Part 34 (2/2)
From that point on, the rest of the proceedings seemed to move with the swiftness of a necessary, but meaningless ritual. Obviously realizing that he hadn't a chance of discrediting the testimony of the Arianna's entire crew Lord Sutherland put only a few perfunctory questions to Captain Granthome, and then allowed him to be dismissed. After that, there remained only the closing statements of both barristers, and then the Lord Chancellor called for a vote.
In renewed tension, Elizabeth listened and watched as the Lord High Steward called out the name of each lord. One after another, each peer arose, placed his right hand upon his breast, and declared either ”Not guilty upon my honor,” or ”Guilty upon my honor.” The final vote was 324 to 14, in favor of acquittal. The dissenters, Peterson Delham's a.s.sistant whispered to Elizabeth were men who were either biased against Ian for personal reasons, or else they doubted the reliability of her testimony and Captain Granthome's.
Elizabeth scarcely heard that. All she cared about was that the majority were for acquittal, and that the Lord Chancellor had finally turned to p.r.o.nounce judgment and was speaking.
”Lord Thornton,” the Lord Chancellor was saying to Ian as Ian slowly rose, ”it is the finding of this commission that you are innocent of all charges against you. You are free to leave.” He paused as if debating something, then said, in what struck Elizabeth as a discordant note of humor, ”I would like to suggest informally that if it is your intention to abide under the same roof as your wife tonight, you seriously reconsider that notion. In your place I would be sorely tempted to commit the act that you have already been accused of committing. Although,” he added as laughter began to rumble through the galleries, ”I feel certain you could count on an acquittal here on grounds of justifiable cause.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes against the shame that she hadn't let herself feel over her testimony. She told herself that it was better to be mistaken for an absurd henwit than a scheming adulteress, but when she opened them again and saw Ian striding up the aisle, away from her, she no longer cared one way or another.
”Come, Elizabeth,” the dowager said, gently putting her hand on Elizabeth's arm. ”I've no doubt the press will be out there. The sooner we leave, the better our chance to evade them.”
That proved to be pure whimsy, Elizabeth saw as soon as they emerged into the sunlight. The press, and a mob of spectators who'd come to hear firsthand news of the day's trial, had gathered in front of Ian's path. Instead of trying to dash around them Ian shouldered his way through them, his jaw clenched. Drowning in agony, Elizabeth watched as they called epithets and accusations at him. ”Oh, my G.o.d,” she said, ”look what I've done to him.”
The moment Ian's coach thundered away, the crowd turned, looking for new prey as the lords began emerging from the building.
”It's her!” a man from the Gazette who wrote about the doings of the ton shouted, pointing toward Elizabeth, and suddenly the press and the mob of spectators were descending on her in terrifying numbers. ”Quick, Lady Thornton,” an unfamiliar young man said urgently, dragging her back into the building, ”follow me. There's another way out around the corner.”
Elizabeth obeyed automatically, clutching the d.u.c.h.ess's arm as they plowed back through the lords who were heading for the doors. ”Which coach is yours?” he asked, looking from one to the other.
The d.u.c.h.ess described her vehicle, and he nodded. ”Stay here. Don't go out there. I'll have your coachman drive around this side to fetch you.”
Ten minutes later the d.u.c.h.ess's coach had made its way to the side, and they were inside its safety. Elizabeth leaned out the door. ”Thank you,” she told the young man, waiting for him to give his name.
He tipped his hat. ”Thomas Tyson, Lady Thornton, from the Times. No, don't look panicked,” he said rea.s.suringly. ”I haven't any notion of trying to barge in there with you now. Accosting ladies in coaches is not at all my style.” For emphasis he closed the door of the coach.
”In that case,” Elizabeth told him through the open window with her best attempt at a grateful smile, ”I'm afraid you're not going to do very well as a journalist.”
”Perhaps you'd consent to talk to me another time-in private?”
”Perhaps,” Elizabeth said vaguely as their coachman sent the horses off at a slow trot, wending their way around the vehicles already crowding into the busy street.
Closing her eyes, Elizabeth leaned her head wearily against the squabs. The image of Ian being chased by a mob and called ”Murderer!” and ”Wife killer!” dug viciously into Elizabeth's battered senses. In an aching whisper she asked the d.u.c.h.ess, ”How long have they been doing that to him? Mobbing him and cursing him?”
”Over a month.” Elizabeth drew a shattered breath, her voice filled with tears. ”Do you have any idea how proud Ian is?” she whispered brokenly. ”He is so proud. . . and I made an accused murderer out of him. Tomorrow he'll be a public joke.”
The dowager hesitated and then said brusquely, ”He is a strong man who has never cared for anyone's opinion except perhaps yours and Jordan's and a very few other's. In any case, I daresay you, not Kensington, will look the fool in tomorrow's papers.”
”Will you take me to the house?” ”The one on Promenade?”
Elizabeth was momentarily shocked out of her misery. ”No, of course not. Our house on Upper Brook Street.”
”I do not think,” the d.u.c.h.ess said sternly, ”that is a wise idea. You heard what the Lord Chancellor said.”
Elizabeth disagreed, with only a tremor of doubt. ”I would much rather face Ian now than dread doing it for an entire night.”
The dowager, obviously determined to give Ian time to get his temper under control, remembered a pressing need to stop at the home of an ailing friend, and then at another. By the time they finally arrived in Upper Brook Street it was nearly dark, and Elizabeth was quaking with nerves-and that was before their own butler looked at her as if she were beneath contempt. Obviously Ian had returned, and the servants' grapevine already had the news of Elizabeth's testimony in the House of Lords. ”Where is my husband, Dolton?” she asked him.
”In his study,” Dolton said, stepping back from the door.
Elizabeth's gaze riveted on the trunks already standing in the hall and the servants carrying more of them downstairs. Her heart hammering wildly, she walked swiftly down the hall and into Ian's study, coming to a halt a few feet inside, pausing to gather her wits before he turned and saw her. He was holding a drink in his hand, staring down into the fireplace. He'd removed his jacket and rolled up his s.h.i.+rtsleeves, and Elizabeth saw with a fresh pang of remorse that he was even thinner than he'd seemed in the House. She tried to think how to begin, and because she was so overwhelmed with emotions and explanations she tackled the least important-but most immediate-problem first, the trunks in the hall. ”Are-are you leaving?”
She saw his shoulders stiffen at the sound of her voice, and when he turned and looked at her, she could almost feel the effort he was exerting to keep his rage under control. ”You're leaving,” he bit out.
In silent, helpless protest Elizabeth shook her head and started slowly across the carpet, dimly aware that this was worse, much worse than merely standing up in front of several hundred lords in the House.
”I wouldn't do that, if I were you,” he warned softly. ”Do-do what?” Elizabeth said shakily.
”Get any nearer to me.” She stopped cold, her mind registering the physical threat in his voice, refusing to believe it, her gaze searching his granite features.
”Ian,” she began, stretching her hand out in a gesture of mute appeal, then letting it fall to her side when her beseeching move got nothing from him but a blast of contempt from his eyes. ”I realize,” she began again, her voice trembling with emotion while she tried to think how to begin to diffuse his wrath, ”that you must despise me for what I've done.” ”You're right.” ”But,” Elizabeth continued bravely, ”I am prepared to do anything, anything to try to atone for it. No matter how it must seem to you now, I never stopped loving-”
His voice cracked like a whiplash. ”Shut up!” ”No, you have to listen to me,” she said, speaking more quickly now, driven by panic and an awful sense of foreboding that nothing she could do or say would ever make him soften. ”I never stopped loving you, even when I-”
”I'm warning you, Elizabeth,” he said in a murderous voice, ”shut up and get out! Get out of my house and out of my life!” , ”Is-is it Robert? I mean, do you not believe Robert was the man I was with?”
”I don't give a d.a.m.n who the son of a b.i.t.c.h was.” Elizabeth began to quake in genuine terror, because he meant that-she could see that he did. ”It was Robert, exactly as I said,” she continued haltingly. ”I can prove it to you beyond any doubt, if you'll let me.”
He laughed at that, a short, strangled laugh that was more deadly and final than his anger had been. ”Elizabeth, I wouldn't believe you if I'd seen you with him. Am I making myself clear? You are a consummate liar and a magnificent actress.”
”If you're saying that be-because of the foolish things I said in the witness box, you s-surely must know why I did it.”
His contemptuous gaze raked her. ”Of course I know why you did it! It was a means to an end-the same reason you've had for everything you do. You'd sleep with a snake if it gave you a means to an end.”
”Why are you saying this?” she cried.
”Because on the same day your investigator told you I was responsible for your brother's disappearance, you stood beside me in a G.o.dd.a.m.ned church and vowed to love me unto death! You were willing to marry a man you believed could be a murderer, to sleep with a murderer.”
”You don't believe that! I can prove it somehow-I know I can, if you'll just give me a chance-”
”No.”
”Ian-”
”I don't want proof.”
”I love you,” she said brokenly.
”I don't want your 'love,' and I don't want you. Now-” He glanced up when Dolton knocked on the door.
”Mr. Larimore is here, my lord.”
”Tell him I'll be with him directly,” Ian announced, and Elizabeth gaped at him. ”You-you're going to have a business meeting now?”
”Not exactly, my love. I've sent for Larimore for a different reason this time.”
Nameless fright quaked down Elizabeth's spine at his tone. ”What-what other reason would you have for summoning a solicitor at a time like this?”
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