The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [346]
She was quiet and confident as she was led to her place, and when the charge was read out and she was asked how she pleaded, her answer came in a clear, firm voice. ‘Not guilty.’
A glance around the courtroom told her she was well supported. The Grockletons were there. Mr Gilpin, who had urged her to tell the truth in the simplest way, was sitting next to them. Then Mrs Pride. How earnestly the housekeeper had urged her, the day before: ‘You must save yourself, Miss Fanny, after everything that has happened. You have your own life to lead now.’ But it was the other figure, smiling at her, who had asked her to marry him – it was Wyndham Martell who had made her promise to fight, at last, when he begged her: ‘Do it, dear Fanny, for me.’
The prosecution’s case was straightforward. First, the shop assistant was called. She stated that she had watched the defendant for some time, seen her bag open, seen her inspecting the lace and drop a piece into the bag, which she then closed before making her way swiftly out of the shop. The shop assistant described how she had run after the thief, stopped her outside and how, with the manager present, the lace had been found in Fanny’s bag.
‘What did the accused say when confronted with this theft?’
‘Nothing.’
The court buzzed for a moment, but the judge called for silence and told Fanny that she could cross-question the witness.
‘I have no questions, My Lord.’
What did this mean? People looked at each other.
The manager was called. He confirmed the events. Again Fanny was offered the chance to question him. She declined.
A woman who had witnessed the confrontation gave her testimony. Still Fanny did not challenge anything. Mr Grockleton was looking concerned, his wife ready to spring out of her seat. Mrs Pride’s lips were pursed.
‘I call the accused, Miss Albion,’ the prosecuting lawyer announced.
He was a small, plump man. The tabs of his starched lawyer’s collar moved back and forth against his thick, fleshy neck when he spoke. ‘Would you please tell the court, Miss Albion, what took place on the afternoon in question.’
‘Certainly.’ She spoke gravely and clearly. ‘I proceeded round the shop exactly as the court has heard.’
‘Your bag was open?’
‘I was not aware of it, but I have no reason to doubt that it was.’
‘You came to the table on which the lace was displayed? And do you deny that you took a piece of lace, dropped it in your bag, and went towards the door?’
‘I don’t deny it.’
‘You do not deny it?’
‘No.’
‘You stole the lace?’
‘Evidently.’
‘The same piece of lace that was found in your bag outside the shop, as described by the manager and a witness?’
‘Precisely.’
The lawyer looked a little puzzled. He glanced at the judge, shrugged. ‘My Lord, members of the jury, there you have it from the mouth of the accused. She stole the lace. The prosecution rests its case.’ He returned to his place, murmured something to his clerk about the foolishness of women trying to defend themselves without lawyers and awaited the defence, as the judge indicated to Fanny that she might proceed.
The court was absolutely silent as Fanny stood before them. ‘I have only one witness to call, My Lord,’ she declared. ‘That is Mr Gilpin.’
Mr Gilpin took the witness stand with great dignity; he confirmed he was the vicar of Boldre, the holder of various degrees, the author of certain well-respected works and that he had known Fanny and her family all her life. Asked to describe her position in life, he explained that she was the heiress to the Albion estate and a considerable fortune. Had she ever been short of money to spend, she asked him, and he replied that she had not.
Requested to describe her character, he did so very fairly, explaining the nature of her somewhat quiet