Chapter 35.

Elizabeth made the four-day journey from Helmshead to London in two and a half days-a feat she managed to accomplish by the expedient, if dangerous and costly, method of paying exorbitant sums to coachmen who reluctantly agreed to drive at night, and by sleeping in the coach. The only pauses in her headlong journey were to change horses, change clothing, and gulp down an occasional meal. Wherever they stopped, everyone from post boys to barmaids talked about the trial of Ian Thornton, Marquess of Kensington.

As the miles rolled past, day receded into black night and gray dawn, then began the cycle again, and Elizabeth listened to the pounding hooves of the horses and the terrified pounding of her heart.

At ten o'clock in the morning, six days after Ian's trial had begun, the dusty coach she'd been traveling in drew up before the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Hawthorne's London town house, and Elizabeth hurtled out of it before the steps were down, tripping on her skirts when she hit the street, then stumbling up the steps and hammering on the door.

"What in heaven's name-" the dowager began as she paused in the hall, distracted from her worried pacing by the thundering of the bra.s.s knocker.

The butler opened the door, and Elizabeth rushed past him. "Your Grace?" she panted. "I-"

"You!" the dowager said, staring woodenly at the disheveled, dusty woman who'd deserted her husband. caused a furor of pain and scandal, and now presented herself looking like a beautiful dust mop in the dowager's front hall when it was all but too late. "Someone should take a strap to you," she snapped.

"Ian will undoubtedly want to attend to that himself, but later. Now I need"-Elizabeth paused. trying to still her panic. to carry out her plan step by step-"I need to get into Westminster. I need your help, because they'll not want to let a woman into the House of Lords."

"The trial is in its sixth day, and I don't mind telling you it is not going well."

"Tell me later!" Elizabeth said in a commanding tone that would have done credit to the dowager herself. "Just think of someone with influence who will get me in there someone you know. I'll do the rest once I'm inside."

Belatedly, the dowager comprehended that regardless of her unforgivable behavior, Elizabeth was now Ian Thornton's best hope for acquittal, and she finally galvanized into action. "Faulknerl" she barked. turning to address what seemed to be the staircase.

"Your grace?" asked the dowager's personal maid who materialized on the balcony above.

"Take this young woman upstairs. Get her clothes brushed and her hair into order. Ramsey!" she snapped. motioning to the butler to follow her into the blue salon, where she sat down at her writing desk. "Take this note directly to Westminster. Tell them that it is from me and that it is to be given immediately to Lord Kyleton. He'll be in his seat at the House of Lords." She wrote quickly, then thrust the missive at the butler. "I've told him to stop the trial at once. I've also told him that we will be waiting for him in front of Westminster in my coach in one hour. He is to meet us there so that he can get us into the House."

"At once, your grace," said Ramsey, already bowing himself out of the room.

She followed him out. still issuing orders. "On the oft' chance Kyleton has decided to be derelict in his duties and not attend the trial today, send a footman to his house, another to White's, and another to the home of that actress be thinks no one knows be keeps in Florind Street. You," she said, bending an icy eye on Elizabeth, "come with me. You have much to explain, madam, and you can do it while Faulkner attends to your appearance."

"I am not." Elizabeth said in a burst of frustrated anger, "going to think of my appearance at a time like this."

The d.u.c.h.ess's brows shot into her hairline. "Have you come to persuade them that your husband is innocent?"

"Well, of course I have. I-"

"Then don't shame him more than you already have! You look like a refugee from a dustbin in Bedlam. You'll be lucky if they don't hang you for putting them to all this trouble!" She started up the staircase with Elizabeth following slowly behind, listening to her tirade with only half her mind. "Now, if your misbegotten brother would do us the honor of showing himself, your husband might not have to spend the. night in a dungeon, which is exactly where Jordan thinks he's going to land if the prosecutors have their way."

Elizabeth stopped on the third step. "Will you please listen to me for a moment-" she began angrily.

"I listen to you all the way to Westminster," the dowager snapped back sarcastically. "I daresay all London will be eager to hear what you have to say for yourself in tomorrow's paper!"

"For the love of G.o.d!" Elizabeth cried at her back, I wondering madly to whom she could turn for speedier help.

An hour was an eternity! "I have not come merely to show that I'm alive. I can prove that Robert is alive and that he came to no harm at Ian's hands, and-"

The d.u.c.h.ess lurched around and started down the stair" case, her gaze searching Elizabeth's face with a mixture of desperation and hope. "Faulknerl" she barked without turning, "bring whatever you need. You can attend Lady Thornton in the coach!"

Fifteen minutes after the d.u.c.h.ess's coachman pulled the horses to a teeth-jarring stop in front of Westminster, Lord Kyleton came bounding up to their coach with Ramsey " trotting doggedly at his heels. "What on earth-" he began. .

"Help us down," the dowager said. "I'll tell you what I can on the way inside. But first tell me how it's going in there."

"Not well. Badly-very badly for Kensington. The head prosecutor is in rare form. So far he's managed to present a convincing argument that even though Lady Thornton is rumored to be alive, there's no real proof that she is."

He turned to help Elizabeth, whom he'd never met, down from the coach while continuing to summarize the prosecutors' tactics to the d.u.c.h.ess: "As an explanation for the rumors that Lady Thornton was seen at an inn and a posting house with an unknown man, the prosecutors are implying that Kensington hired a young couple to impersonate her and an alleged lover-an implication that sounds very plausible, since it was a long time before she was supposedly traced, and an equally long time before the jeweler came forward to give his statement. Lastly," he finished as they rushed past the vaulted entryway, "the prosecutors have also managed to make it sound very logical that if she is still alive, she is obviously in fear for her life, or she would have shown herself by now. It follows, according to them, that Lady Thornton must know firsthand what a ruthless monster her husband is. And if he is a ruthless monster, then it follows that he'd be fully capable of having her brother killed. The brother's disappearance is the crime they believe they have enough evidence on to send him to the gallows."

"Well, the first part of that is no longer a worry. Have you stopped the trial?" the d.u.c.h.ess said.

"Stopped the trial," he expostulated. "My dear d.u.c.h.ess, it would take the prince or G.o.d to stop this trial."

"They will have to settle for Lady Thornton," the dowager snapped.

Lord Kyleton swung around, his gaze riveting on Elizabeth, and his expression went from shock to relief to biting contempt. He withdrew his gaze and quickly turned, his hand reaching for a heavy door beside which sentries stood at attention. "Stay here. I'll get a note to Kensington's barrister that he is to meet us out here. Don't speak to a soul or reveal this woman's ident.i.ty until Peterson Delham comes out here. I suspect he'll want to spring this as a surprise at the right moment. "

Elizabeth stood stock still, braced against the pain of his blistering look, aware of its cause. In the eyes of everyone who'd followed the stories in the newspapers. Elizabeth was either dead or an adulteress who'd deserted her husband for an unidentified lover. Since she was here in the flesh and not dead, Lord Kyleton obviously believed the latter. And Elizabeth knew that every man in the cavernous chamber on the other side of that door-including her husband-was going to think exactly the same thing of her until she proved them wrong.

The d.u.c.h.ess had hardly spoken at all in the coach during their ride here; she'd listened closely to Elizabeth's explanation, but she obviously wanted it proven in that chamber before she accepted it herself. That withholding of faith by the dowager, who'd believed in Elizabeth when scarcely anyone else had, hurt Elizabeth far more than Lord Kyleton's condemning glance.

A few minutes later Lord Kyleton returned to the hallway. "Peterson Delham was handed my note a moment ago. We'll see what happens next."

"Did you tell him Lady Thornton is here?" "No, your grace," he said with strained patience. "In a trial, timing can mean everything. Delham must decide what he wants to do and when he wants to do it."

Elizabeth felt like screaming with frustration at this new delay. Ian was on the other side of those doors, and she wanted to burst past them and let him see her so badly that it took a physical effort to stand rigidly still. She told herself that in a few minutes he would see her and hear what she had to say. Just a few more minutes before she could explain to him that it was Robert she'd been traveling with, not a lover. Once he understood that, he would surely forgive her-eventually-for the rest of the pain she'd caused him. Elizabeth didn't care what the hundreds of lords in that chamber thought of her; she could endure their censure for as long as she lived, so long as Ian forgave her.

After what seemed like a lifetime, not a quarter-hour, the doors opened, and Peterson Delham, Ian's barrister, strode into the hall. "What in G.o.d's name do you want, Kyleton? I've got all I can do to keep this trial from becoming a ma.s.sacre, and you drag me out here in the middle of the most d.a.m.ning testimony yet!"

Lord Kyleton looked uneasily at the few men strolling about the hall, then he cupped his hand near Peterson Delham's ear and spoke rapidly. Delham's gaze froze on Elizabeth's face at the same instant his hand locked on Elizabeth's arm, and he marched her forcibly across the hall toward a closed door. "We'll talk in there," he said tersely.

The room into which he hauled her contained a desk and six straight-back chairs; Delham went straight to the desk and flung himself into the chair behind it. Steepling his fingers. he gazed at Elizabeth over the tops of them, scrutinizing her every feature with eyes like blue daggers, and when he spoke his voice was like a blast of ice: "Lady Thornton, how very good of you to find the time to pay us a social call! Would it be too pushing of me to inquire as to your whereabouts during the last six weeks?"

At that moment Elizabeth's only thought was that if Ian's barrister felt this way about her, how much more hatred she would face when she confronted Ian himself. "I-I can imagine what you must be thinking. " she began in a conciliatory manner.

He interrupted sarcastically, "Oh, I don't think you can. madam. If you could, you'd be quite horrified at this moment."

"I can explain everything," Elizabeth burst out. "Really?" he drawled blightingly. "A pity you didn't try do that six weeks ago!"

"I'm here to do it now," Elizabeth cried, clinging to a slender thread of control.

"Begin at your leisure," he drawled sarcastically. "There are only three hundred people across the hall awaiting your convenience."

Panic and frustration made Elizabeth's voice shake and her temper explode. "Now see here, sir, I have not traveled day and night so that I can stand here while you waste time insulting me! I came here the instant I read a paper and realized my husband is in trouble. I've come to prove I'm alive and unharmed, and that my brother is also alive!"

Instead of looking pleased or relieved he looked more snide than before. "Do tell, madam. I am on tenterhooks to hear the whole of it."

"Why are you doing this?" Elizabeth cried. "For the love of heaven, I'm on your side!"

"Thank G.o.d we don't have more like you." Elizabeth steadfastly ignored that and launched into a swift but complete version of everything that had happened from the moment Robert came up behind her at Havenhurst. Finished, she stood up, ready to go in and tell everyone across the hall the same thing, but Delham continued to pillory her with his gaze, watching her in silence above his steepled fingertips. "Are we supposed to believe that Banbury tale?" he snapped at last. "Your brother is alive, but he isn't here. Are we supposed to accept the word of a married woman who brazenly traveled as man and wife with another man-"

"With my brother. Elizabeth retorted, bracing her palms on the desk, as if by sheer proximity she could make him understand.

"So you want us to believe. Why, Lady Thornton? Why this sudden interest in your husband's well-being?"

"Delham!" the d.u.c.h.ess barked. "Are you mad? Anyone can see she's telling the truth-even I-and I wasn't inclined to believe a word she said when she arrived at my house! You are tearing into her for no reason-"

Without moving his eyes from Elizabeth, Mr. Delham said shortly, "Your grace, what I've been doing is nothing to what the prosecution will try to do to her story. If she can't hold up in here, she hasn't a chance out there'"

"I don't understand this at all!" Elizabeth cried with panic and fury. "By being here I can disprove that my husband has done away with me. And I have a letter from Mrs. Hogan describing my brother in detail and stating that we were together. She will come here herself if you need her, only she is with child and couldn't travel as quickly as I had to do. This is a trial to prove whether or not my husband is guilty of those crimes. I know the truth, and I can prove he isn't."

"You're mistaken, Lady Thornton," Delham said in a bitter voice. -'Because of its sensational nature and the wild conjecture in the press, this is no longer a quest for truth and justice in the House of Lords. This is now an amphitheater, and the prosecution is in the center of the stage, playing a starring role before an audience of thousands allover England who will read about it in the papers. They're bent on giving a stellar performance, and they've been doing just that. Very well," he said after a moment. "Let's see how well you can deal with them."

Elizabeth was so relieved to see him stand up at last that not even his last remarks about the prosecution's motives had any weight with her. "I've told you everything exactly as it happened, and I've brought Mrs. Hogan's letter here to verify the part about Robert. She will come here herself, as I said, if it's necessary. She can describe him for everyone and even identify him from portraits I have of him-"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps you've described him well for her and paid her to do this," he remarked, again a.s.suming the prosecutor's role. "Have you promised her money for coming here, by the way?"

"Yes, but-"

"Never mind, " he clipped angrily. "It doesn't matter." "It doesn't matter?" she repeated dumbly. "But Lord Kyleton said the prosecution's best case, and most d.a.m.ning case, has always been about my brother."

"As I've just told you," he said coldly, "it is not my primary concern at this moment. I'm going to put you where you can hear what I'm saying for the next few moments without being seen by anyone. My a.s.sistant will come to escort you to the witness box."

"Will-will you tell Ian I'm here?" she asked in a suffocated little voice.

"Absolutely not. I want him to have his first glimpse of you along with everyone else. I want them to see his initial reaction and judge its validity." With the d.u.c.h.ess following behind he led them to another door, then stepped aside, and Elizabeth realized they were in a secluded alcove where they could see everything and everyone without being seen. Her pulse began to race as her senses tried to take in the entire kaleidoscope of color and movement and sound. The long, chamber with its high, vaulted ceilings was buzzing loudly with hundreds of muted conversations taking place in the galleries above and on the benches below, where lords of the realm sat, waiting impatiently for the trial to continue.

Not far from their alcove the scarlet-robed and bewigged Lord Chancellor was seated on the traditional red Woolsack, from where he would preside over the trial.

Below and about him were more grim-faced men in scarlet robes and powdered wigs, including eight judges and the Crown's prosecutors. Seated at another table were men whom Elizabeth presumed to be Ian's solicitors and their clerks, more grim-faced men in scarlet robes and powdered wigs. Elizabeth watched Peterson Delham striding forward down the aisle, and she tried desperately to see around him. Surely Ian would be seated at whatever table. . . her frantic gaze skidded to a stop, riveting on his beloved face. His name rose to her lips, and she bit down to stop herself from crying out to him that she was there. At the same time a teary smile touched her lips, because everything about him-even the nonchalant way he was sitting-was so achingly, beautifully familiar. Other accused men must surely have sat at rigid and respectful attention, but not Ian, she realized with a pang of pride and a twinge of alarm. As if he intended to display his utter contempt for the legality, the validity, of the proceedings against him, Ian was sitting in the accused box, his right elbow resting on the polished wooden ledge that surrounded him, his booted foot propped atop his knee. He looked dispa.s.sionate, cold, and in complete control.

"I trust that you're ready to begin again, Mr. Delham," the Lord Chancellor said irritably, and the instant his voice rose the great hall grew instantly quiet. In the galleries above and on the benches below, lords stiffened with attention and turned alertly toward the Chancellor-everyone did. Everyone, Elizabeth noted, except for Ian, who continued to lounge in his chair, looking impatient now, as if the trial was a farce taking his time away from weightier matters.

"I apologize again for this delay, my lords," Delham said after pausing to whisper something to the youngest of Ian's solicitors, who was seated at a table near Delham. The young man arose abruptly and started around the perimeter of the room-heading, Elizabeth realized, straight toward her. Turning back to the Lord Chancellor, Delham said with extreme courtesy, "My Lord, if you will permit me a little leeway in procedure at this time, I believe we can resolve the entire issue at hand without further debate or calling of witnesses."

"Explain your meaning, Mr. Delham," he commanded curtly.

"I wish to call a surprise witness to the witness box and to be permitted to ask her only one question. Afterward my lord prosecutor may question her at any length, and to any degree he desires."

The Lord Chancellor turned to consult with a man Elizabeth surmised must be the bead prosecutor the Attorney-General. "Have you any objection, Lord Sutherland?"

Lord Sutherland arose, a tall man with a hawk nose and thin lips, garbed in the requisite scarlet robes and powdered wig. "Certainly not, my lord," he said in a tone that was almost snide. "We've waited for Mr. Delham twice already today. What is one more delay in the execution of English justice?"

"Bring your witness forward, Mr. Delham. And after this I'll countenance no more delays in these proceedings. Is that understood?"

Elizabeth actually jumped when the young solicitor stepped into the alcove and touched her arm. Her eyes riveted on Ian, she started forward on wooden legs, her heart thundering against her ribs, and that was before Peterson Delham said in a voice that carried to the highest tiers of seats, "My lords, we call to the witness box the Marchioness of Kensington!"

Waves of shock and tension seemed to scream through the huge chamber. Everyone leaned forward in their seats, but Elizabeth didn't notice that. Her eyes were on Ian; she saw his entire body stiffen, saw his gaze snap to her face. . . and then his face hardened into a mask of freezing rage, his amber eyes turning an icy, metallic gold.

Shaking beneath the blast of his gaze, Elizabeth walked into the witness box and repeated the oath that was being read to her. Then Peterson Delham was strolling forward. "Will you state your name, please. for the benefit and hearing of all within these chambers?"

Elizabeth swallowed and. tearing her gaze from Ian's. said as loudly as she could, "Elizabeth Marie Cameron."

Pandemonium erupted all around her. and white-wigged heads tipped toward one another while the Lord Chancellor called sharply for silence.

"Will the court permit me to verify this by asking the accused if this is indeed his wife?" Delham asked when order was restored.

The Lord Chancellor's narrowed gaze swung from Elizabeth's face to Ian. "Indeed."

"Lord Thornton," Delham asked calmly, watching Ian's reaction, "is this woman before us the wife whose disappearance-whose murder-you have been accused of causing?"

Ian's jaw clenched, and he nodded curtly. "For the information of those present, Lord Thornton has identified this witness as his wife. I have no further questions,"

Elizabeth clutched the wooden edge of the witness box. her widened eyes on Peterson Delham, unable to believe he wasn't going to question her about Robert.

"I have several questions, my lords," said the Attorney General, Lord Sutherland.

With trepidation Elizabeth watched Lord Sutherland stroll forward. but when he spoke she was staggered by the kindness in his voice. Even in her state of fright and desperation Elizabeth could actually feel the contempt, the male fury, being blasted at her from all around the chamber -everywhere but from him.

"Lady Thornton," Lord Sutherland began. looking con. fused and almost relieved that she was here to clear up matters. "Please. there is no need to look frightened. I have only a few questions. Would you kindly tell us what brings you here at this late date, in what is obviously a state of great anxiety, to reveal your presence?"

"I-I came because I discovered that my husband is accused of murdering my brother and me," Elizabeth said, trying to speak loudly enough to be heard across the echoing chamber.

"Where have you been until now?" "I've been in Helmshead with my brother, Rob-" "Did she say brother?" demanded one of the Crown's solicitors. Lord Sutherland suffered the same shock that rocketed through the chambers causing another outbreak of conversation, which in turn caused the Lord Chancellor to call for order. The prosecutor's shock, however, did not last very long. Recovering almost at once, he said, "You have come here to tell us that not only are you alive and unharmed," he summarized thoughtfully, "but that you have been with the brother who has been missing for two years-the brother of whom no one has been able to find a trace-not your investigator, Mr. Wordsworth, nor the Crown's investigators, nor even those hired by your husband?"

Elizabeth's startled gaze flew to Ian and ricocheted in alarm from the glacial hatred on his face. "Yes, that's correct."

"And where is this brother?" For emphasis he made a sweeping gesture and looked around as if searching for Robert. "Have you brought him so that we can see him as we're seeing you-alive and unharmed?"

"No," Elizabeth said. "I haven't, but-" "Please just answer my questions," Lord Sutherland admonished. For a long moment he looked nonplussed, then he said, "Lady Thornton, I believe we would all like to hear why you left the safety and comfort of your home six weeks ago, fled in secrecy from your husband, and have now returned at this last desperate hour to plead that we have all somehow made a mistake in thinking your life or your brother's life could be in danger. Begin at the beginning, if you please."

Elizabeth was so relieved that she was being given a chance to tell her story that she related it verbatim, just as she'd rehea.r.s.ed it in the coach over and over again carefully leaving out parts that would make Robert seem like a liar or a madman bent on having Ian hang for murders he didn't commit. With careful, rehea.r.s.ed words she swiftly painted Robert as she truly saw him-a young man who had been driven by pain and deprivation to wrongly seek vengeance against her husband; a young man whom her husband had saved from the gallows or lifelong imprisonment by charitably having him put on a ship and taken abroad; a young man who had then suffered, through his own unintentional actions, great trials and even vicious beatings for which he had wrongly blamed Ian Thornton.

Because she was desperate and frightened and had practiced the speech so many times, Elizabeth delivered her testimony with the flat unemotionalism of a rehea.r.s.ed speech, and in a surprisingly short time she was done. The only time she faltered was when she had to confess that she had actually believed her husband guilty of her brother's beatings. During that awful moment her gaze slid penitently to Ian, and the altered expression on his face was more terrifying because it was bored-as if she were a very poor actress playing a role in an exceedingly boring play he was being forced to watch.

Lord Sutherland broke the deafening silence that followed her testimony with a short, pitying laugh, and suddenly his eyes were piercing hers and his raised voice was hammering at her, "My dear woman, I have one question for you, and it is much like my earlier one. I want to know why."

For an inexplicable reason, Elizabeth felt icy fear starting to quake through her, as if her heart understood that something awful was happening-that she had not been believed, and he was now going to make absolutely certain that she would never be. "Why-why what?" she stammered.

"Why have you come here to tell us such an amazing tale in hopes of saving the life of this man from whom you admit you fled weeks ago?"

Elizabeth looked beseechingly to Peterson Delham, who shrugged as if in resigned disgust. In her petrified state she remembered his words in the anteroom, and now she understood them: "What I've been doing to her is nothing to what the prosecution will do to her story. . . . This is no longer a quest for truth and justice. . . this is an amphitheater, and the prosecution is bent on giving a stellar performance. . . .

"Lady Thornton!" the prosecutor rapped out, and he began firing questions at her so rapidly that she could scarcely keep track of them. "Tell us the truth, Lady Thornton. Did that man"-his finger pointed accusingly to where Ian was sitting. out of Elizabeth's vision-"find you and bribe you to come back here and tell us this absurd tale? Or did he find you and threaten your life if you didn't come here today? Isn't it true that you have no idea where your brother is? Isn't it true that by your own admission a few moments ago you fled in terror for your life from this cruel man? Isn't it true that you are afraid of further cruelty from him-"

"No!" Elizabeth cried. Her gaze raced over the male faces around and above her, and she could see not one that looked anything but either dubious or contemptuous of the truths she had told.

"No further questions!" "Wait!" In that infinitesimal moment of time Elizabeth realized that if she couldn't convince them she was telling the truth, she might be able to convince them she was too stupid to make up such a lie. "Yes, my lord," her voice rang out. "I cannot deny it-about his cruelty, I mean."