Honor could understand why. To not tell a man you were carrying his child and then to secretly abort it…
A shudder rippled through Genevra’s narrow shoulders. “He’s been a monster to me, Mrs. Davis. I live in a constant state of terror.”
“Has he beat you?”
She shook her head. “No. But he refuses to speak to me or let the servants speak to me for days on end. Sometimes he tells my friends that I’m not at home when they call and makes me watch while they leave. Sometimes he locks me in the attic. He won’t give me any money for new clothes, and worst of all, he threatens to take my son away from me.” Genevra Graham burst into tears. “If I don’t get away from him, I’ll go mad!”
Honor patted the distraught woman’s shoulder. “Mrs. Graham, has your husband ever committed adultery?”
She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “How would I know that?”
“Pray that he has, because in New York State, you can obtain a divorce only on those grounds.”
Genevra’s hazel eyes widened. “But—but he’s so cruel to me! And any love I had for him is dead and gone. Can’t I divorce him for that?”
Honor shook her head. “I’m afraid not. While some states accept cruelty as grounds for divorce, New York does not.” She paused. “Perhaps your abortion is just an excuse for his cruelty. Perhaps his real reason is that he has a mistress.”
Genevra frowned. “If he wanted another woman, I would gladly give him a divorce, but he hasn’t asked me.” Her gaze hardened. “He would rather keep me his prisoner out of spite.”
A sudden sound caused the woman to leap to her feet and stare at the door in terror. When her husband didn’t come barging in, she sighed heavily, then began pacing the room. “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?”
Honor rose. “Your situation isn’t hopeless, Mrs. Graham. If you wish me to take your case, I’ll start investigating your husband. If we can prove he has committed adultery, we may have a case.”
“And if you can’t?”
“Then I’d advise you to take up residency in another state such as Connecticut, where the divorce laws are more lenient.”
“I can’t. I don’t have the money. Gordon took away all my good jewelry, so I can’t even pawn my diamonds.”
“Don’t you have any friends who will lend you the money?”
“All of their husbands are Gordon’s friends. And they wouldn’t dream of defying their husbands.”
Honor said, “Then how do you expect to pay the court costs and my fee?”
Genevra Graham gave her a sheepish look. “I thought you might be persuaded to waive your fee.”
Honor experienced a flash of resentment. Didn’t the woman realize that Honor had rent and Elroy’s wages to pay as well as other expenses? Then she calmed down. “I can’t do that, but if I win your case, I’ll ask the judge to have your husband pay your legal costs as part of your settlement. If I lose, you’ll owe me nothing. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough.” Genevra looked relieved. “I was afraid that I’d be doomed to spend the rest of my life in a living hell with that monster.”
“I’ll do the best I can, but no promises.” Honor paused. “Are you sure you don’t want someone more experienced to represent you?”
“You’re the only lawyer I know,” Genevra said, “and since you’re a woman, it will be easier for me to meet with you. I can always pretend I’m making a social call. If Gordon even suspects that I’m planning to divorce him…” She shuddered.
Honor patted her hand. “I’ll do my best to keep it a secret until it’s too late.”
Genevra began trembling again. “We’ll have to be very, very careful. Gordon is a powerful man. He’s also got a wicked temper, and he might try to harm you if he knows you’re helping me.”
Honor raised her stubborn chin. “No man is above the law. Now, assuming that it’s too dangerous for us to meet in my office, is there somewhere else in the city where we can meet without being seen?”
A frown marred Genevra’s brow. “I think Gordon has been having me watched, but perhaps we can meet at the home of a mutual friend. Provided, of course, that he is in one of his generous moods and lets me out of the house.”
Honor gave Genevra her card. “Just tell me where and when.”
She left the guesthouse first and returned to the main house, unaware that she was being observed from an upstairs window.
Chapter Eleven
Two months later, on a balmy June evening at eight o’clock, Honor sat in the library writing to Aunt Theo while waiting for Robert to come home from work.
Since Theo’s return from Italy in the spring, her letters had been light and humorous, with amusing anecdotes about the many paintings she had bought as well as her adventures terrorizing the horses and dogs of Boston in the new Duryea motorcar, but Honor sensed a false brightness to their tone. She could tell that her aunt missed Wes.
She looked up to find Robert standing in the doorway, one hand on the knob, and she smiled warmly in welcome. “Long, hard day? You look tired. Tilly’s been keeping supper warm.”
Robert didn’t return her smile. “Is it true that you’re representing Genevra Graham in a divorce case?”
Honor set down her pen and rose. “Yes. She approached me while we were at Coppermine in April, and I agreed to take her case.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There was no need for you to know.”
Honor hadn’t even been sure that Genevra had grounds for divorce until last week, when her clever, persistent sleuth, Elroy, had discovered that Gordon Graham was keeping a mistress named Araminta deGrey in high style at the posh Spanish Flats across from Central Park.
Her husband’s green eyes hardened to glass, and his hand tightened with white-knuckled intensity on the doorknob. “Whatever possessed you to take the case?”
Honor stiffened and mentally girded herself for the argument she could see looming between them. “The woman wants to divorce her husband and asked me if I would represent her. I jumped at the chance. It will be my first court case, and I’m heartily looking forward to it.”
“Honor, Gordon Graham is a wealthy, powerful man.”
“Why should that make any difference to me?”
“It should make a great deal of difference to you! Not only does he have the money and influence to hire the best lawyers in New York City, but he also has the power to ruin us.”
Honor tugged at her locket on its new cord. “What about his wife?” Her voice rose. “Am I supposed to leave her twisting in the wind because I’m afraid of offending her almighty husband?” She paced around the small room to dissipate some of her anger. “Everyone is entitled to legal representation, Robert. Or have you so quickly forgotten that?”
His cheeks turned crimson. “I’m only concerned for you. You don’t have the experience. His lawyers will tear you to pieces in the courtroom.”
“You didn’t let your lack of experience keep you from taking a position with Delancy and LaRouche.”
“That was different. I never go into court.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I’ve got to undergo my baptism of fire sooner or later. Mrs. Graham has faith in me in spite of my inexperience, and all I can do is my best.”
Robert crossed the room and grasped her hands. “I’m asking you to drop the case.”
Honor pulled away. “Why? Because you’re concerned about me or because Gordon Graham is Nevada LaRouche’s friend?” When Robert turned a guilty shade of red and said nothing, she added, “Did LaRouche pressure you to ask me to drop this case?”
“He hasn’t said a word about it.”
Somehow she doubted that. “Good. Because I refuse.”
Robert whirled away and stood by the bookshelves, anger emanating from him in palpable waves. “Don’t you ever think before you act? Don’t you ever consider the possible consequences of your actions?”
Honor crossed her arms, seeking to put a physical barrier between them. “Of course I do. But I don’t accept or reject cases just so someone who is wealthy and powerful will think kindly of me.”
“Well, you should—if not for your sake, then for mine.”
“For your sake? What does this case have to do with you?”
He shrugged. “You never know. I may want to go to work for Graham someday.”
Honor flung up her hands in exasperation. “You, you,
you
!
You’re the only one who matters in this marriage.” She fought to control her rising temper. “I have to move to New York City because you want to work for a man like J. Pierpont Morgan. I have to keep my profession a secret from your bosses because they are prejudiced against women lawyers. Now I’m supposed to give up my first important case because you may want to work for Graham someday.”
He glared at her. “I’ve never heard you complain before.”
Honor shook with anger. “Well, you’re hearing it now.”
“Honor—”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Robert, but don’t ask me to give up this case, because I can’t, and I won’t.”
“Fine,” he snapped. “Tell Tilly not to hold supper. I’m going out, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
Honor took a hesitant step forward. “Don’t leave with these bad feelings between us.”
“I need some time alone.” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the library. A minute later Honor winced when she heard the apartment door slam. Then silence.
She stood in the center of the library, breathing deeply until her anger vanished. Then she sat at her desk to finish her letter. She found she couldn’t concentrate, so she put her pen down, leaned back in her chair, and rubbed her neck.
“How dare he!” she muttered, her annoyance returning.
The preparations for Genevra Graham’s divorce case were proceeding better than Honor hoped. Once Elroy discovered Graham’s adulterous liaison, Honor and Genevra had begun meeting secretly. The moment Honor had enough information to file for the divorce, Genevra took their son and left her husband. Only Honor knew that her terrified client had fled to the house of friends in Rhinebeck, New York, just three days ago to await the trial’s August court date.
Matters had progressed too far for Honor to let Genevra down, no matter how badly her own husband or Nevada LaRouche wanted her to step aside.
Two days later Honor was sitting in her office surrounded by a fortress of law books piled on her desk when there came a knock at her door.
“Door’s open, Elroy,” she said without looking up.
The door swung open, but no Elroy came rushing in like a whirlwind. Even as Honor continued writing, she became aware of the hand-tooled black cowboy boots.
She looked up, tried to hide her surprise, and failed. “Mr. LaRouche.”
“Morning.” He was dressed for Wall Street today in a black frock coat, waistcoat, and black striped cravat. He held a silk top hat. Honor thought a black Stetson would have been more appropriate with his longish fair hair curling around the back of his collar. He glanced toward the outer office, where Elroy should have been. “No one was out there, so I took the liberty of letting myself in. Hope you don’t mind.”
She pushed a stray lock of hair away from her cheek and rose, resenting the way this out-of-place man became right at home in her office the moment he stepped through the door. “Of course not.” She indicated one of the chairs across from her desk. “Do sit down.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” LaRouche waited politely until she sat back down, then eased his tall, lanky frame into one chair and set his hat on the other.
Honor leaned back in her chair so she wouldn’t feel overpowered by LaRouche’s quiet, unnerving presence. She looked him right in the eye. “I know you’ve come to discuss the Graham divorce.”
He gave a low, appreciative whistle. “You don’t beat around the bush.”
“If you’re here to try to persuade me to drop the case, you may as well turn around and walk right out that door.”
LaRouche shook his head, his eyes bright with an amusement at odds with his serious demeanor. “You sure do jump to conclusions, ma’am. Might be a serious failing for a lawyer.”
Honor kept her features composed. “If you’re not here to discuss the Graham divorce, then why are you here?”
“To invite you and your husband to the opera.”
Her jaw dropped. “The opera?”
“You heard me. Maria Morelli is singing at the Metropolitan tonight, and since Delancy still keeps his box, I thought you and Davis would like to come along. After dinner at Delmonico’s, as my guests.”
Honor felt as disoriented as Lewis Carroll’s hapless Alice when she tumbled down the rabbit hole. What other surprises did Nevada LaRouche have up his sleeve?
He smiled slowly. “Judging by the look on your face, I’d say you’re wondering how a simple fellow like me could enjoy opera.”
Despite the fact that her corset suddenly felt too tight, Honor said, “I would never make the mistake of thinking that you’re a simple fellow, Mr. LaRouche. On the contrary, I think you’re quite complex.”
Heat flickered in the depths of his eyes for just a second, then disappeared. “Actually, I don’t understand a word of it, but the music is right pretty.” He studied her for a moment with that disquieting gaze. “Would you and your husband like to go?”