The William Monk Mysteries_ The First Three Novels - Anne Perry [451]
Hester blushed hotly, but there was far too much guilt in her for her to find any denial.
It was Peverell who came to her rescue.
“Would you have every accused person put to death quickly, Mama-in-law, to save them the pain of struggle? I doubt that that is what they would choose.”
“And how would you know that?” she demanded. “It might well have been exactly what Alexandra would choose. Only you have all taken that opportunity away from her with your interference.”
“We offered her a lawyer,” Peverell replied, refusing to back away. “We have not told her how to plead.”
“Then you should have. Perhaps if she had pleaded guilty then this whole sorry business would be over with. Now we shall have to go into court and conduct ourselves with all the dignity we can muster. I presume you will be testifying, since you were there at that wretched party?”
“Yes. I have no choice.”
“For the prosecution?” she enquired.
“Yes,”
“Well at least if you go, one imagines Damaris will be spared. That is something. I don’t know what you can possibly tell them that will be of use.” There was half a question in her voice, and Hester knew, watching her tense face and brilliant eyes, that she was both asking Peverell what he intended saying, and warning him of family loyalties, trusts, unspoken ties that were deeper than any single occasion could test or break.
“Neither do I, Mama-in-law,” he agreed. “Presumably only my observations as to who was where at any particular time. And maybe the fact that Alex and Thaddeus did seem to be at odds with each other. And Louisa Furnival took Thaddeus upstairs alone, and Alex seemed extraordinarily upset about it.”
“You’ll tell them that?” Edith said, horrified.
“I shall have to, if they ask me,” he said apologetically. “That is what I saw.”
“But Pev—”
He leaned forward. “My dear, they already know it. Maxim and Louisa were there, and they will say that. And Fenton Pole, and Charles and Sarah Hargrave …”
Damaris was very pale. Edith buried her face in her hands.
“This is going to be awful.”
“Of course it is going to be awful,” Felicia said thickly. “That is the reason why we must think carefully what we are going to say beforehand, speak only the truth, say nothing malicious or undignified, whatever we may feel, answer only what we are asked, exactly and precisely, and at all times remember who we are!”
Damaris swallowed convulsively.
Cassian stared at her with huge eyes, his lips parted.
Randolf sat up a trifle straighter.
“Offer no opinions,” Felicia continued. “Remember that the vulgar press will write down everything you say, and quite probably distort it. That you cannot help. But you can most certainly help your deportment, your diction, and the fact that you do not lie, prevaricate, giggle, faint, weep or otherwise disgrace yourself by being less than the ladies you are—or the gentlemen, as the case is. Alexandra is the one who is accused, but the whole family will be on trial.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Randolf looked at her with a mixture of obligation, gratitude and an awe which for one ridiculous moment Hester imagined was akin to fear. “As always you have done what is necessary.”
Felicia said nothing. A flicker of pain passed across her rigid features, but it was gone again almost as soon as it was there. She did not indulge in such things; she could not afford to.
“Yes, Mama,” Damaris said obediently. “We will all do our best to acquit ourselves with dignity and honesty.”
“You will not be required,” Felicia said, but there was a slight melting in her tone, and their eyes met for a moment. “But of course if you choose to attend, you will be noticed, and no doubt some busybody will recognize you as a Carlyon.”
“Will I go, Grandmama?” Cassian asked, his face troubled.
“No, my dear, you will certainly not go. You will remain here with Miss Buchan.”
“Won’t Mama expect me to be there?”
“No, she will wish you to be here where you can be comfortable. You will be told all you need to know.” She turned away from