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palm, mumbling something about how she was robbing him blind, she was. She handed him back the shilling, grinning impishly. “Spend it on yerself, McBride.”
    He took the shilling, smiling in return. “I’ve a book fer ye, today, as well, Lily.” He was awed by the fact that Lily could read, and he saved every book that came his way for her. He’d inadvertently helped her amass a truly eclectic library, including an encyclopedia of animals, a volume of Greek myths, the works of Shakespeare, and of course, Pride and Prejudice and the book of bawdy stories.
    “ Robinson Crusoe” she read aloud from the cover of the book. “Thank you, McBride. I will cherish it.”
    “See that ye do,” he said sternly, embarrassed suddenly by his own generosity.
    Lily smiled, stood on her toes to lean across the counter, kissed his stubbly cheek, and dashed from the shop.
     
     
    Gideon had returned to the Westminster chambers with a slight limp. Bloody little pickpocket and her deadly aim. But then again, he’d been even more impassioned than usual during his summary today; one juror had even been moved to tears. Perhaps he should thank the pickpocket.
    “Well done, Mr. Cole.”
    “Impressive as usual, Mr. Cole.”
    “Excellent summary, Mr. Cole.”
    Gideon nodded and murmured his thanks to his colleagues as he wended his way through the small crowd to join the other barristers in the chambers at Westminster Hall. He always allowed himself but a moment to savor a courtroom victory before he once again threw himself upon the mercy of the solicitors who milled about, looking for barristers upon whom to bestow their cases. Fortunately, Gideon, with his habit of winning, was in demand with solicitors. He was particularly in demand with one solicitor, unfortunately.
    And oh, dear God, there he was .
    Mr. Dodge was small and top-heavy; his round torso overhung two twiggy little legs, a fringe of graying hair encircled his otherwise shiny pate, and the alert beak of his nose supported a pair of spectacles through which peered a pair of sharp blue eyes. Those sharp blue eyes were scanning the courtroom for his prey: Gideon Cole.
    Gideon had faced Napoleon’s hordes. He’d been in any number of bare-fisted fights. He’d once even fought a duel, though he could scarcely now remember over what.
    But only Mr. Dodge could strike terror into his very bowels.
    Mr. Dodge knew his weakness.
    As surreptitiously as his height would allow, Gideon inched toward the courtroom’s exit.
    “Oh, Mr. Cole—”
    Gideon lengthened his stride, forcing the solicitor to scuttle after him in an undignified manner.
    “Mr. Cole! I’d like just a moment of your time, if you would, Mr. Cole,” Dodge panted, unperturbed by this frosty reception.
    “I’ve given you all the moments I intend to give you, Mr. Dodge.”
    Mr. Dodge managed to scurry around Gideon’s long-legged frame and plant himself in his path. “I do think I have a case that will interest you, Mr. Cole,” he said firmly, his beaky little nose pointed up at Gideon.
    Gideon groaned and covered his face with his hands. An interesting case was precisely what he feared. “Mr. Dodge, I don’t want to hear about any orphans cheated of their inheritances or any such tragedies.”
    “But it’s not an orphan this time, Mr. Cole.”
    Gideon parted two fingers and peeped cautiously out.
    “It’s a widow,” Dodge informed him brightly.
    Gideon jerked back. “Go away, Mr. Dodge.”
    “But Mr. Cole—”
    “I mean it, Mr. Dodge. Find some other foolish, softhearted barrister to torment.”
    “I fear you’re the only one, Mr. Cole,” Dodge told him sympathetically. “And you’re so very good at it. You always, always win.”
    “And I’m never, ever paid.”
    “Oh, now, gentlemen such as yourself don’t need money, do they? You’ve a tree that sprouts pound notes on an estate somewhere.” Dodge thrust a sheaf of papers at Gideon. The case’s brief.
    “Very funny, Mr. Dodge.”