Page 4 of Give Him a Chance

There was a reason the two court men were holding such tight grips of his arm. Lucy would not have been surprised, her pulse fluttering most unaccountably, if this Mr. Dixon could release himself from those handcuffs with a mere wrench of his arms.

He was tall, taller than both the man who flanked him, and his dark curls sorely needed a brush. There was a sharpness, a precision in his eyes that spoke of intelligence rarely seen in the docks of a court like this. There was a curve to his mouth, almost as though the man were smiling.

Which, Lucy told herself firmly as she did only what everyone else in the courtroom was doing, and watched the man’s progress from the doorway to the dock, was impossible.

What sort of man would smile upon finding himself in such a position?

Mr. Dixon grinned as he sat down in the dock. “Judge Bonner, we meet again.”

“Sadly, for both you and I,” snapped the judge. “Order, order!”

He was required to call order, for there were shouts from the gallery…and all of a feminine persuasion.

“Oh, Mr. Dixon, Mr. Dixon!”

“I love you, Dixy, I love you!”

“Dixon, Dixon, over here!”

Lucy inexplicably flushed as she watched the aforementioned Mr. Dixon smile and wave at the majority of those in the gallery, who, she now realized, had come to see him and no other prisoner on today’s docket.

Clearly, he was a lady’s man, she observed darkly, trying not to judge the man but finding it a little difficult not to do so. Perhaps he was involved in…Well. In that sort of thing.

Organizing ladies of the night.

Even the thought made her cheeks burn, and so it was most unfortunate that at that very moment, she caught the gaze of the man himself.

Mr. Bernard Dixon.

Heat, molten and unexpected, burned through Lucy’s entire body. She was burning, burning up with the pleasure of his notice, and all she wanted to do was please him, gain his attention, make him notice her—

Mr. Dixon’s attention meandered on.

Lucy tried to take in air, but it was almost impossible to do so.

What had just happened? For a moment, it had been as though she had been a mere insect trapped in amber, unable to do anything but look upon the handsome man who was so charismatic, she had been utterly entranced by him by a mere look.

Was this what love was?

Surely not. No, she was being idiotic, Lucy told herself steadily. She had met enough confidence tricksters in her time advocating for prison reform to know one when she saw one.

At least, she wasalmostcertain that was what had just happened.

“Order, order!” cried Judge Bonner, banging his gavel against the block with a glare at the gallery that slowly brought silence to the courtroom. “Well, Dixon, it’ll be transportation for you if I have my way—”

“No!” cried a clear, confident, and ringing voice.

For a heartbeat, Lucy looked around to see who had spoken. They had done so with such fire, such certainty, that she wished to ask the person afterward just how they had managed to do such a thing.

The trouble was, she had a strange feeling it had been…herself.

“Lady Lucy,” hissed the solicitor seated beside her. “You must not get involved, especially after you’ve already been warned. I know he is apparentlycharming”—he whispered the word as if distasteful, but the way his aquiline nose raised in the air, it was clear the prisoner’s adoring devotees had perturbed him—“but I thought you displayed more fortitude than that.”

Lucy ignored him. Not only because there was a more pressing matter at hand, but also because she was not entirely sure how to answer the accusation. She hardly knew what to think of the strange sensations she was experiencing herself.

“Transportation to Australia to work as a slave is a barbaric practice,” Lucy said loudly, her confidence suddenly returning as she stood once more on familiar ground. “So many prisoners die on the journey itself.”

Yes, this is it. Facts and statistics and reasons for the law to change, Lucy thought wildly as her tongue took over and she found herself on her feet once again.