Falling for Mr. December by Kate Hardy Page B

‘So we can actually go inside?’
    He nodded. ‘And it’s got the Templar effigy tombs. I think you’ll like them.’
    * * *
    She did. Not just the round church itself, but also the way the blues, purples and reds from the sunlight coming through the stained glass windows shone onto the dark marble pillars surrounding the Templar effigy tombs. This was her idea of the perfect day—and it had come from a very unexpected source.
    â€˜That’s William Marshal. He served under four English kings, and was the regent for Henry III,’ Nick explained as they stood in front of the tombs. ‘Next to him is his son William.’
    Stone effigies that were nearly a thousand years old, darkened by age, portraying knights wearing their mail armour, holding a shield and sword, with dogs at their feet. Sammy was entranced by them, particularly the little dogs, and took plenty of detail shots.
    â€˜I love this church. It’s so peaceful,’ she whispered. ‘Though inside it doesn’t look as old as it actually is.’
    â€˜It was badly damaged in the second world war during the Blitz,’ Nick whispered back, ‘so it had to be restored. But I can show you something really, really old.’
    It turned out to be a Norman doorway with a rounded decorated arch, with beautiful geometric ironwork spreading across the wood. Again, Sammy took plenty of photographs, focusing on the details that caught her eye.
    â€˜Come with me,’ Nick said, and took her into the gardens.
    There was a long, tree-lined avenue that Sammy found irresistible, and she made him pose in the centre of it.
    â€˜This is the Broadwalk,’ he said. ‘The London plane trees were planted here in Victorian times.’
    And in the Peony Garden there was an ancient wall and an iron railing with wisteria tumbling down it. ‘It’s amazing that these gardens are smack in the middle of the city and only a few steps away from the Thames,’ Sammy said. ‘They’re stunning. I thought I knew London pretty well, but I had absolutely no idea they were here.’
    â€˜Most people don’t—though the gardens are open to the public,’ Nick said, ‘and it’s the perfect place to chill out on a summer lunchtime. If I’m not in court, I’ll sometimes eat a sandwich out here. It’s a good place to think, too, when you’re stuck on some knotty legal problem.’
    Sammy found the brass sundial in the centre of one of the gardens equally fascinating. ‘Why is there a Pegasus in the middle of the sundial?’ she asked.
    â€˜It’s the symbol of Inner Temple. It’s said that it was chosen for Robert Dudley.’
    â€˜The guy Elizabeth the First was in love with?’
    â€˜At the time, he was her Master of the Horse,’ Nick said. ‘He took part in the Christmas revels here in the middle of the sixteenth century, and his followers all wore the symbol of Pegasus. It’s thought to come from there.’
    â€˜It’s a beautiful piece of brasswork,’ she said. ‘Though I still think Dudley was a bit of a baddie. It was a little bit too convenient how his wife fell down the stairs and broke her neck. So did Amy Robsart trip or was she pushed?’
    â€˜We’ll never know the truth,’ Nick said.
    She paused. ‘Would you have defended Robert Dudley in a court of law if he’d been up on a charge of murdering his wife?’
    He didn’t hesitate. ‘If I was asked to, yes.’
    She looked at him. ‘Would you defend someone you absolutely knew was a criminal?’ Because that was something she really couldn’t get her head round. ‘How could you defend someone you knew was guilty?’
    Nick smiled. ‘That’s the first question everyone asks a barrister. First of all, in law, everyone is presumed innocent unless proven guilty. Secondly, everyone has a right to representation and