Part 31 (2/2)
People in the gallery s.h.i.+fted in antic.i.p.ation, whispering to one another, excitement mounting. This was what they had come for.
Harvester looked at Zorah, then at Rathbone, then at Gisela.
Gisela sat, pale as ice, without responding. For any change in her expression, she might not have heard them.
”Then proceed, Countess Rostova,” the judge ordered.
”It was before the accident, I cannot remember exactly how many days, but it is immaterial,” she resumed, looking at no one in particular. ”It was wet and there was quite a sharp wind. I rose early. I don't mind the rain. I walked in the garden. The daffodils were magnificent. Have you smelled the wet earth after a shower?” This remark seemed directed towards the judge, but she did not wait for any reply. ”Gisela rose late, as usual, and Friedrich came down with her. Indeed, he was so close behind her he accidentally trod on the hem of her skirt when she hesitated coming in through the door. She turned and said something to him. I cannot remember exactly what, but it was sharp and impatient. He apologized and looked discomfited. It was somewhat embarra.s.sing because Brigitte von Arlsbach was in the room, and so was Lady Wellborough.”
Rathbone took a deep breath. He had seen the look of surprise and distaste on the jurors' faces. He did not know whether it was for Zorah or for Gisela. Whom did they believe?
Please G.o.d that Hester was right. Everything rested upon one fact and all she had deduced from it.
”Please continue, Countess Rostova,” he said with a crack in his voice. ”The rest of this typical day, if you please.”
”Brigitte went to the library to read,” Zorah resumed. ”I think she was quite happy alone. Lady Wellborough and Evelyn von Seidlitz spent the morning in the boudoir, talking, I imagine. They both love to gossip. Gisela asked Florent to accompany her to the village. I was surprised, because it was raining, and she hated the rain. I think he does too, but he felt it would be ungallant to refuse her. She had asked him in front of everyone, so he could not do so politely. Friedrich offered to take her, but she said rather tartly that since Rolf had already expressed a desire to talk with him, he should stay and do so.”
”She did not appear to mind that Friedrich should spend time talking with Count Lansdorff?” Rathbone said with affected surprise.
”On the contrary, she practically instructed him to,” Zorah replied with a little shake of her head, but there was no hesitation in her voice.
”Can she have been unaware of Count Lansdorff's purpose in coming to Wellborough Hall?” Rathbone asked.
”I cannot imagine so,” Zorah said frankly. ”She has never been a foolish woman. She is as aware as any of us of the political situation in Felzburg and the rest of Germany. She lives in Venice, and Italy is also on the brink of a struggle for unification and independence from Austria.”
”We have heard that she is uninterested in politics,” Rathbone pointed out.
Zorah looked at him with ill-concealed impatience.
”To be uninterested in politics in general is not at all the same thing as being unaware of something that is going on which may affect your own survival,” she pointed out. ”She has never been uninterested in what may ruin her.”
There was a murmur in the gallery. One of the jurors leaned forward.
”Ruin her?” Rathbone raised his eyebrows.
Zorah leaned a little forward. ”If Friedrich had returned to Felzburg without her, she would be a divorced wife, publicly set aside, and have only the worldly means he chose to give her. And even that might not lie entirely within his power to decide. His personal fortune comes from royal lands at home. Many of them are on the Prussian borders. If there were a war to retain independence, Klaus von Seidlitz would not be the only one to lose the majority of his possessions. She was always aware of that.”
A chilly smile crossed her face. ”Just because a person spends her life in the pursuit of pleasure, dresses sublimely, collects jewels, mixes with the rich and the idle, does not mean she is unaware of the source of the money or does not keep a very sharp mind to its continuing flow.”
Again there was the rumble from the gallery, and a man raised his voice in ugly comment.
”Is that deduction, Countess Rostova?” Rathbone inquired, ignoring the crowd. ”Or do you know this of your own observation?”
”I have heard Friedrich mention it in her presence. She did not wish to know details, but she is very far from naive. The reasoning is inescapable.”
”And yet she was happy-in fact, eager-that Friedrich should spend time alone in conversation with Count Lansdorff?”
Zorah looked puzzled, as if she herself did not understand it, even in hindsight.
”Yes. She instructed him to.”
”And did he?”
”Of course.”
The gallery was silent now, listening.
”Do you know the outcome of their discussion?”
”Count Lansdorff told me Friedrich would return only on condition he could bring Gisela with him as his wife, and in time as his queen.”
One of the jurors let out a sigh.
”Did Count Lansdorff hold out any hope that he could be prevailed upon to change his mind?” Rathbone pressed.
”Very little.”
”But he intended to try?”
”Naturally.”
”To your knowledge, did he succeed?”
”No, he did not. At the time of the accident Friedrich was adamant. He always believed the country would have them both back. He believed that all his life. Of course, it was not true.”
”Did he express any belief that Count Lansdorff would yield?”
”Not that I heard. He simply said that he would not consider going without Gisela, whatever the country's need or anybody's conception of his duty. He thought he could face the issue.” She said it with little expression in her voice, but her face was twisted with contempt and it was beyond her control to hide it.
Harvester turned to Gisela and whispered something, but she did not appear to answer him, and he did not interrupt.
”I see,” Rathbone acknowledged. ”And the rest of the day, Countess Rostova?”
”The weather improved. We had luncheon, and then some of the men went riding over the open country. Gisela suggested that Friedrich go with them, but he preferred to remain with her, and I believe they walked in the gardens, then had a game of croquet.”
”Just the two of them?”
”Yes. Gisela asked Florent Barberini to join them, but he felt he would be intruding.”
”Prince Friedrich seems to have been very devoted to his wife. How can Count Lansdorff, or anyone, seriously have believed he would set her aside and return to Felzburg to spend the rest of his life without her?”
”I don't know,” she said with a little shake of her head. ”They did not live in Venice. They had not seen them closely for years. It was something you would not accept as true unless you had seen it. Friedrich seemed hardly able to do anything without her. If she left the room, one was aware he was waiting for her to return. He asked her opinion, waited for her praise, depended upon her approval.”
Rathbone hesitated. Was it too soon? Had he laid sufficient foundation yet? Perhaps not. He must be sure. He glanced at the jurors' faces. They were looking confused. It was too soon.
”So on that day they played croquet together through the afternoon?”
<script>