Chapter 30
Thirty
“What is the meaning of this?” Queen Charlotte demanded as Warner stormed towards her.
His heart hammered in his chest as his eyes found Adele’s. He took in the rumpled appearance of her clothes, the red marks on her wrist. His uncle stood in front of her, his eyes narrowed, mouth open.
Every part of Warner longed to stride forward, to take his uncle by the scruff of the neck and fling him as far away from Adele as possible, but he knew it would not help matters.
He wanted to put himself between his wife and the man who had killed his own son, but he knew too well how the games of the court would be used to damn them all. I am on thin enough ice as it is.
Warner tore his gaze away and looked up at the Queen. He fell to a knee, his head bowed. “I must beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty. I was not told of this audience until a half hour ago.”
It was a lie. There had been no messenger, and Warner knew why. His Uncle opened his mouth to speak, but Warner continued before the man could get a word out.
“Your Majesty, will you allow me to join this audience? To speak on behalf of my wife as is my right?” His eyes met the Queen’s.
Queen Charlotte’s expression gave away nothing. “You may speak though I do not appreciate the manner of your entry.”
“Of course.” Warner stood. “I have proof that my wife is not the cause of my cousin’s death. In fact, this whole thing is little more than a witch hunt designed to protect the real culprit.”
A murmur ran through the crowd, and Warner forced himself not to look at Adele.
“A bold accusation, Your Grace. I trust you have proof to support such a claim,” Queen Charlotte said. “You hold a life in your hands.”
“I know.” Warner tried not to think of what might happen if his plan failed.
It was not the time for doubt. I will burn the world down if I cannot convince them of her innocence.
“My wife’s eccentricities are well known, but as many of us will know, grief takes many forms and not all of them can be predicted.
Yet even in the throes of loss, Duchess Adelaide sought justice. ”
“So she claims —” his uncle began, but Warner continued as though he had not spoken. “And of course, there are many who would be only too happy to provide testimony to this effect. If I might bring them in?”
Queen Charlotte’s eyes narrowed, but she waved a hand. The doors to the chamber swung upon. Warner let his eyes drift briefly over the people striding in: the widows, his cousin, Adele’s sisters, a nervous looking man with greasy hair, and a hooded figure lurking at the back.
“Lady Cora, would you be so kind as to tell her Majesty what you told me.”
“Of course. Your Majesty, Lady Adelaide is one of the truest friends I have ever known. She is a little unorthodox, but who among us is not from time to time? And in truth, part of her behaviour of late is my own fault. I could see that she was hurting and wanted to take her mind off things. To give her a little distraction.”
Warner studied the Queen’s face as Lady Cora continued to speak. One by one, people gave testimony to Adele’s character, speaking of her generosity and her kindness. They told the Queen of how Adele had wanted to find the killer.
“If I had known she was taking such risks, I would never have let her do so alone!” Lady Rowen shook her head. “She kept her investigation a secret because she knew we would accompany her and did not want to risk our safety. That is the kind of person she is — she always puts others ahead of her.”
“This is all well and good — but that does not prove anything except that her loved ones think highly of her,” Duke Erindale interrupted. “It does not absolve her of guilt.”
Warner turned to face his uncle. “No, it does not. But it does tell us of the lengths she was willing to go to to find the real culprit. After all, it was Adele who discovered that the most likely way to procure such an amount of cyanide would be to mix a particular paint pigment with oxygenated water. Prussian Blue, to be precise.”
Warner stepped towards the other Duke, towering above the older man. “The same paint you ordered to use when you redecorated Kidlington house.”
“That is hardly proof of anything; it is a popular colour, and I wanted to spoil my son.”
“It would not be proof on its own, no. But I also happen to have a list provided by a less than savoury chemist of all the people who have bought oxygenated water from him in the last few months.” Warner pulled the list from his pocket and held it up so that everyone could see.
“Shortly before the wedding, a Mr. Andrew Purkiss purchased a large amount of oxygenated water. The description of the man matched a servant at my uncle’s estate. ”
“And what proof have you of this?” Queen Charlotte asked.
“Mr. Fawcett, you are the one who sold the oxygenated water, were you not?” Warner gestured to the greasy chemist.
“Yes, Your Grace. I only remember him because I struggled to make change for him. I thought maybe he was a thief — what kind of servant has money like that?” Mr. Fawcett wrung his hands.
There were gasps around the room. Warner did not take his eyes from his uncle.
“This same servant made false accusations against my wife, claiming that he had proof of her guilt. He left a note with his young lover that detailed the truth of things — you see, he was worried that he might not survive and that the reward he was promised would be withheld.”
“He was right of course. He was found dead a week ago.” Warner watched his uncle’s eyes widen as he stepped backwards. “Cyanide poisoning.”
The smell of roses wafted across him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Adele stiffen. He forced his hand behind his back, moving so that she was shielded from his uncle’s gaze.
“Clearly, this is a lie to discredit my good name. I remember the man; he was caught stealing, and I released him from my employ without a reference.” Duke Erindale shrugged, but Warner could see tiny beads of sweat on his uncle’s brow.
“Clearly he was working with the Duchess, and she poisoned him.”
“But why would she do that?” Warner asked as though genuinely curious.
Behind him, he sensed Adele stir slightly. He forced his attention to remain on the man before him. Baiting the trap.
“They were the ones who had access to the drinks. It would remove suspicion from her. It would be only too easy for her to convince them to poison Eric’s drink.
” His uncle made a dismissive gesture, the mask of pain slipping back onto his face.
“Every man has a price; I thought my servants loyal, but that misplaced trust has cost me my son.”
Liar. Warner took a step towards the man, his voice all innocent curiosity. “But Uncle, you were the one who called for the toast. You were the one who insisted that they drink out of your own wedding glasses, were you not?”
“That only proves that I wished to celebrate what should have been a joyous day. What reason would I have to kill my own son?” The Duke glared up at him.
“What reason indeed?” Warner’s voice was cool and soft as he gestured around the room. “You wanted to protect your legacy. Your good family name. You could not stand the thought that his title would pass to the child of a servant.”
“You said the blood would pollute our line beyond repair. That you would be damned before you let a ba—” Toby stopped himself with an effort. “Well, it does not bear repeating before such company. But you made clear that you thought very little of Eric’s plan, Father.”
“Words said in anger do not mean I killed my first born. You have no proof.” The Duke’s eyes flashed. “Do not let him poison you against me with his lies.”
“The only one lying here is you, Uncle.” Warner gestured to the hooded figure. “Miss Martha, I believe it is time for your testimony.”
Martha strode forwards, and Warner stood to let her pass. His movement brought him close to Adele. His arm brushed against hers, and he felt the warmth spread through him.
“How did you find her?” Adele murmured, too quietly for anyone else to hear.
“The journal,” Warner replied as Queen Charlotte asked, “And who are you?”
“I am Miss Martha Lockley, Your Majesty. Lord Eric was my love.” Martha’s voice shook.
“I was deep in grief when His Grace, Duke Erindale, found me and offered me more money than I had ever dreamed of to disappear. He said he would make sure I would be looked after, that my child would be looked after, on one condition…”
Beside him, Adele let out a hiss of disbelief, and Warner saw her hands curl into tight fists. His fingers twitched, but he placed his hands behind his back.
“He is the reason she disappeared.” Adele’s lips barely moved.
“Yes. The house she bought was mentioned in the journal — that’s how I found her.” Warner explained as Martha continued speaking.
Martha was shaking. “He said that if I promised that my child would never try and claim the title of Duke, we would want for nothing. I agreed. There was little hope for me, and when my daughter was born, I thought finally it would be over. Then Duke Scarfield came to find me, he told me what he had learned, and I realised that it was the Duke Erindale all along.”
“Lies. All of it lies. My son would never lie with a servant.” His uncle gave everyone an imploring smile, and Warner found himself taking a step towards him.
The feel of Adele’s hand on his arm stilled him, and he breathed in the smell of her, letting the scent of rose calm his rising fury. “You thought you had destroyed all evidence of their affair. You forced Martha to give it to you when you visited her. But you did not find everything.”
Warner pulled the journal from his pocket. “He called Martha Marigold — but the details are all in here. He loved her, he intended to raise their child as his own, and Adele agreed to help him. She made a sacrifice for him and continued to seek justice.”
“You killed him, and you tried to blame it on me.” Adele’s voice shook.
“Shut up, you stupid little wh—” his uncle began, but Warner’s fist in his mouth stopped him.
Duke Erindale collapsed to the ground, and the room descended into momentary chaos before Queen Charlotte’s voice rang out.
“That is quite enough.” Everyone stilled as the Queen stood from her throne and walked towards them.
“Duke Erindale, I find you guilty of murder. You have taken the life of your own son. I would strip you of your title and your life, but you still have an heir remaining. You will be hanged until dead, three days hence.”
“Your Majesty — please!” His uncle scrambled to his feet.
“Take him away.” Queen Charlotte made a gesture, and several armed guards appeared and dragged the screaming duke from the room. The cold fury in the Queen’s gaze softened as she turned to face Warner and Adele.
He swallowed as she began to speak. “You will, of course, be given a full pardon by His Majesty. It will be made clear that you have been maligned and that there is no truth to the accusations against you.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Adele dropped into a curtsey beside Warner.
“You are lucky that so many people love you so dearly, Duchess Scarfield. Few have such staunch advocates.” Queen Charlotte looked from Adele to Warner to the blood on Warner’s knuckles. “See that your cut is tended to by someone competent. I would not have it sour.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Warner bowed to her.
“You are all dismissed. I think that is quite enough excitement for one day.” Queen Charlotte gestured for them to leave, and everyone obeyed her command.
As soon as the door to the audience chamber shut, there were delighted yells. Warner moved aside, letting the widows and Adele’s sisters fling their arms around her.
A lump formed in his throat as he saw tears roll down her cheek. I nearly lost her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tobias moving away, his shoulders slumped.
“Are you all right, Cousin?” Warner asked.
“No.” Toby shook his head. “But I think that is to be expected.”
“Would you like me to stay with you?” Warner searched his cousin’s face even as his heart tugged him back towards Adele.
Toby gave him a wry smile. “I know who you wish to go to, Cousin. And I will not keep you from her. Not for all the money in the world.”
“But —” Warner began, but Lady Cora and Lady Rowen appeared beside them.
“You two will join us at the townhouse, will you not?” Lady Cora gestured to the thinning crowd.
Toby opened his mouth, and Warner was certain he would make an excuse, but Lady Rowen fixed his cousin with a look. “You have just found out your father killed your brother; you should not be alone.”
“I fear I would be poor company, dear Lady.” Toby swallowed.
“No one is expecting you to be good company. But I am not about to send a man who has just learned what you learned off to be by himself.” Lady Rowen jerked her head towards the waiting crowd. “Adele is family which means you are too. Take an hour before you sit alone with your ghosts.”
“Please, cousin.” Warner put a hand on Toby’s shoulder. “Do not be alone.”
Toby nodded and let Lady Rowen bring him towards the group.
“Do not think you will be able to slip away, Duke.” Lady Cora slipped an arm through his.
“I would not dream of it.” His eyes found Adele’s, and the crushing vice around his chest finally eased.