Tina Gabrielle - In the Barristers Chambers
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Independent Evelyn Darlington is unimpressed by most marriageable men of her acquaintance, who all believe a womans intelligence is inferior to a mans. The daughter of an Oxford professor, she mistakenly believes she has found her perfect husband in Randolph Sheldon, her fathers Fellow at the University. But when her would-be fiance is accused of murdering an infamous actress in the Drury Lane Theatre, Evelyn is on the hunt for the best barrister in London to defend him. Jack Harding earned his fame and fortune in the courtroom. He is known as a brilliant lawyer and a jury master, but remains emotionally unavailable, believing that romantic entanglements will result in lost trials. Not wanting to mix business and pleasure, a reluctant Jack agrees to help Evelyn despite his intense attraction to her. As Evelyn aids Jack in investigating a list of suspects, the danger surrounding them heightens and the attraction between them sizzles. Even as they work to clear Randolphs name, Evelyn finds herself falling in love with Jack, with all of their lives at stake.
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Books by Tina Gabrielle
IN THE BARRISTERS CHAMBERS
A PERFECT SCANDAL
LADY OF SCANDAL
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Authors Note
As an attorney in the United States, I have always wanted to write about two of my passions: romance and the fascinating aspects of legal history.
My research revealed just how vastly different jury trials were in early nineteenth-century England than they are today. Trials at the Old Bailey were short, averaging ten minutes or less, and took place in clusters. It was not uncommon for a jury to hear twelve or more cases in a day. Juries were expected to present their verdicts immediately after each case, without leaving the room, and they often gathered in the corner as they discussed their verdict.
Without modern science, DNA evidence or forensics, witness testimony was considered the best evidence. Judges often interrupted to ask questions of witnesses. As for a defendants rights, there were few. There was no presumption of innocence, no right to remain silent. Rather than the prosecution presenting sufficient evidence to convince the jury that the defendant is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, the defendant had the monumental burden of disproving the prosecutions evidence. This is a significant difference from modern trials and the adage innocent until proven guilty.
In the beginning of the book, I took the liberty of hosting Slip Dawsons trial for keeping a brothel at the Old Bailey Courthouse in London. Typically, this offense was a misdemeanor and tried elsewhere. I also mention pro bono work, which is used today to describe volunteer legal services for the indigent, but it is not clear when the practice of pro bono actually began. Our modern legal system, although arguably not perfect, is a freedom that should not be taken for granted.
It was a pleasure to write this book, and I hope you enjoy reading my book as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
Chapter 1
April 5, 1814
London, Old Bailey Courthouse
Honorable Tobias Townsend, presiding
London, Old Bailey Courthouse
Honorable Tobias Townsend, presiding
They aint whores!
What would you call seven women who live under your roof then, if not a brothel? Prosecutor Abrams asked, stalking forward.
Me lady friends, they are, Slip Dawson explained.
All seven of them?
Me mum always said I ad a way with the ladies, Slip whined.
Did your mother tell you to freely share your women with all the men of the City of London? Abrams asked sharply, giving the accused a stony glare.
An imposing barrister at the defense table jumped up. I object, my lord. The prosecution has not brought forth one man from the City of London to testify as to bedding any of Mr. Dawsons lady friends.
The judge sighed and rested his chin in hand, a look of complete boredom on his face. Four of the twelve-member jury rolled their eyes; others snickered.
Evelyn Darlington sat perched on the edge of a wooden bench in the center of the spectators gallery. Her eyes never wavered from the defense barristerthe only man in the room she knewJack Harding. He was the reason she was here, witnessing this spectacle, along with all the other observers in the packed courtroom.
The late-afternoon sun streamed in through the windows, raising the temperature in the crowded room by twenty degrees. Too many unwashed bodies in too small a space should have repulsed her.
Instead, she sat in her seat completely enthralled.
Jack Harding was precisely as she remembered him, as only a few lines near his eyes gave away the years that had passed since she had last seen him. He was tallover six feet three incheswith chiseled features that gave him a sharp and confident profile. His eyes were a deep green that reminded her of the ferns that thrived during the summer months. His lips were curved in a smile, but she knew they could be either cunning or charming, or both.
Beneath his barristers wig, she knew his thick brown hair had an unruly wave that he had often impatiently brushed aside when he was concentrating on a legal treatise. He was dressed in a black barristers gown that would make the complexions of most men appear sallow, but the dark color only served to enhance his bronzed skin.
But perhaps his most fascinating appeal was his attitude of complete relaxation as if he were unperturbed by the judge, jury, prosecutor, and even the audience sitting in the courtroom staring at him. He was infused with a confidence that made one hang on every word that fell from his lips. Without a doubt, Jack Harding probably had women, from all stations in society, swarming around him.
A snort beside her drew her attention. Es got em by the throat, e does.
Evelyn turned to look at the man seated to her left, a squat fellow with beady eyes and fleshy jowls. The overpowering stench of onions wafted from his skin. He smiled, revealing no teeth and swollen gums.
She shifted inches to the right only to brush up against a heavyset woman with a bloodstained apron, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and work-roughened hands. A butchers wife, no doubt.
Tis a matter of time till old Abrams gives up. The woman laughed and rubbed the calluses on her hands. Aint nobody can git past that Jack Harding.
Just like old times, Evelyn thought. Jack Harding could charm the habit off a nun and cunningly argue the most complicated legal points while doing so.
But thats why she was here, watching him... waiting for him. For the years, it seemed, had only polished his raw talent.
The rest of the trial went as expected. Prosecutor Abrams argued about Slip Dawsons entourage of female inhabitants. Jack countered each argument by pointing out the prosecutions distinct lack of evidence followed by a number of witnesses who testified as to Slips stellar character and good standing in the community.
Exactly eleven and a half minutes after the start of the trial, the judge cleared his throat, cutting off Prosecutor Abrams in midsentence.
As all of the relevant evidence has been presented, Judge Tobias said, I ask for the jury to deliberate on the charges and come to a verdict.
The jury, not bothering to leave the courtroom, huddled in the corner.
In what must have been record speed, the foreman stoodhis barrel-shaped chest puffed up with self-importance. We the jury find Slip Dawson not guilty of keepin a brothel.
The spectators burst into cheers, turning the courtroom into a scene of chaos. Hands reached out to give Slip Dawson a hearty slap on the back as he proceeded out of the rooma free man.
The pounding of Judge Tobiass gavel was a distant thumping, completely ignored by the people.
Evelyn stared as Slip passed, a cockeyed smile on his face, and she wondered how many of todays observers were patrons of his lady friends.
Her gaze returned to Jack Harding.
Jack extended his hand to Abrams. The prosecutor looked like he had sucked on a lemon, sulking in defeat, but he shook hands with Jack nonetheless. Jack then bent to gather his papers and litigation bag from the desk.
She waited until he turned to make his way out of the courtroom, then stepped into the aisle.
Mr. Harding, she called out.
He stopped abruptly, his gaze traveling over her face, then roaming over her figure before returning to her eyes. His lips curled into a smile.
I believe you have the advantage of knowing my name. How can I be of assistance, Miss...
Lady Evelyn Darlington.
His brow furrowed in confusion before his eyes widened in surprise.
Why, Lady Evelyn! I dont believe it. You were a girl the last time I saw you. Its been a long, long time.
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