Chapter 2
On the other side of the cell block, a rumpled gentleman listened to the brothers with half irritation and half amusement. Getting maligned by a pair of half-grown American pups did not sit well with him, but their banter reminded Phileas of enjoying such sport with his own brother.
Phileas Fogg was turned away from the boys. He had come out of the fight without too much damage. Looking down at his torn left lapel, he remembered the fishermen who had used it for a handhold. A few bruises, a damaged jacket, but otherwise unhurt.
Phileas cursed his insistence at escorting Rebecca to meet with the smuggler. Why she, specifically, had been sent to accept the packet from its courier, had to have been pure devilry on someone's part. I didn't like her going to the docks by herself and was proven right. We were accosted twice on the way to the rendezvous. The courier refused to accept her. I had to step in to protect the fool and make the pickup for her.
I hadn't had the packet in my hands a minute before all hell broke loose downstairs. Yelling and crashes… At the top of the stairs, I saw Rebecca in a full-fledged brawl. She and a tall boy were fighting off a group of fishermen. Rebecca's helper and I put them down with a second boy, a copy of the first.
We were at the door with the packet when the constables arrived. They pushed the combatants, me included, back into the pub. Thankfully, she was allowed to escape with the packet.
Where is she? Rebecca should have had me released hours ago. My cousin is going to owe me a great deal after this.
Two jailers noisily returned to the cellblock. The brothers were released from their cell first, and then Phileas. The two were led down a long hall and he into another where Sir Jonathan Chatsworth waiting.
"Rebecca told me of your difficulties," Chatsworth said, finishing with a clerk at a tall desk. "Your help is appreciated." He said that tightly, showing just how much he did not want to acknowledge Phileas's services. Chatsworth led the way out a door and up a narrow stairway to Rebecca, who was sitting in the gallery over the courtroom.
"What is going on?" Phileas whispered.
"My gallants are before the judge," Rebecca said.
She patted a seat in invitation for him to sit.
He would have declined and insisted they leave, but she raised her hand to silence him when the judge spoke.
"You two gentlemen do not have to say anything," the judge said. "The witnesses before you have already told me enough to prove your innocence. I just want to know what you were doing in that pub and if you have a place to go when I release you. State your names and homes and business."
The young men stepped forward, and by some silent agreement, one did the talking for both. "I am Matthew Ridgemont, your honor," Matt said respectfully in an unmistakable American drawl. "This is my brother, Mark Ridgemont. We were just resting up after the trip from Texas, your honor. Our home is Galveston Texas, in America. We were not looking for trouble. We were just having a drink. We plan to stay in London for a few weeks before going on to Cambridge."
The judge looked down at the speaker with a frown. "What business do you have in Cambridge? Do you have relatives there we may commend you to?"
"No sir," Matthew Ridgemont said. "We… my brother and I, are to start classes this fall." He fumbled for something in his coat pocket.
The bailiff took the folded papers from him and handed them to the judge.
The judge took some time reading before returning them. "It all seems in order. The judge looked back at both and said in an incredulous tone, Seminary studies?"
Both boys had the grace to look sheepish.
"That was our mother's idea," Matthew said, looking down. "We were planning to take other courses, too."
"A good idea," the judge said. "Something tells me neither of you is bound for the church. You will be in London for the next three weeks?"
The young men yes sired in answer.
"Set them free," the judge ordered. "See to it I do not see you again before you leave for Cambridge."
"Yes, your honor," both boys said again, in unison, and followed the bailiff away.
After they left, the judge called a halt to further business to leave the bench. His footsteps sounded on the narrow stairs as he came into the gallery to meet with the observers. Sitting down beside Sir Jonathan, he said, "The letter the young man showed me states they are to start seminary studies at Cambridge, just as they said. They are nineteen years of age. They come with references and a stipend while attending classes. Just a pair of young men of good family, beginning university."
"Thank you, Judge Banks," Sir Jonathan said.
The judge then rose, going back to his business.
"Why are you interested in a pair of university students from America?" Phileas said.
"The packet you helped obtain included information about arms smuggling going on between English suppliers and former confederate buyers," Sir Jonathan said. "Since the war's end, we have been attempting to curtail the movement of weapons to the southern region. The army has disbanded, but weapons are still being shipped. That does not sit well with America's new president. War commerce with the former confederacy has become a sore point in our relations. The Queen wants these shipments stopped. Those two young men are the nephews of a once active shipper of weapons. I am having them watched in case their uncle has them doing business for him."
"I see," Phileas said. "Will Rebecca be going back to school?" he said, grinning at her.
"Hardly," Sir Jonathan said, giving Rebecca an amused glance, too. "She will keep track of our young visitors while in London, and if necessary, she will go on to Cambridge as a secretary at the Seminary as soon as that can be arranged."
Sir Jonathan went silent for a moment, thinking. "Would that we could plant someone in the university to watch them more closely; say, someone young enough to pass for a student?" The director bid the Foggs goodnight and left.
Phileas groused as he and Rebecca headed down the stairs. "What took you so long? I should have been out of here hours ago."
"Sir Jonathan wanted to clear the court before he had you and those two released," Rebecca said. "The fewer people who saw you leave without going before the judge, the better."
Phileas said nothing, but didn't quite buy it. He was sure Sir Jonathan had other reasons for leaving him languishing in prison for longer than needed.
"What Sir Jonathan said about a student watcher over the Ridgemont brothers was not a bad idea," Rebecca said offhandedly. "You would not be interested in returning to Cambridge for some graduate work, would you, Phileas?"
Phileas laughed out loud. "No, I would not and get that thought out of your head right now. My university days are long over. Besides, if you will remember, I studied engineering, not divinity."
"Yes," Rebecca said, giving him a sweet smile. "No doubt, the reason for your less than saintly lifestyle."
Before she could get too pleased with herself for that remark, she was suddenly jerked backward into a wall of male muscle.
"Saintly lifestyles are for saints, but I would consider it, if you would stop driving me crazy. Stop taking assignments that put you in such situations. If I hadn't been with you–"
"But you were," Rebecca said, turning in his arms. This was an old argument, and she didn't want to fight with him, so she kissed him. putting all the love growing in her since they started their courtship. It stopped the argument, but started something else she wasn't sure was a good idea. Especially on the streets in front of a courthouse.
She pulled away. "Thank you for being there, and yes, I will need to stop taking every assignment. I have a plan for that."
Phileas let her go. "You do?"
Rebecca smiled. "What do you say to helping me apply for a different position. Something higher up, with less field work."
"I'm at your service. What position."
She rose on her toes and whispered it into his ear.
Phileas pulled back. "You really want to do that?"
A question she had been asking herself for weeks. She turned, took his arm, and started to walk away from the small audience they had attracted. "I am a senior agent. There is no other path forward but retirement. I don't want to leave the service yet."