Chapter 35 #2
“Yes,” agreed Rosalind. “I’ve seen it many times.
But what worries me is that when a person is being questioned in front of a coroner, or the magistrates, and they are caught in a moment of …
confusion, it rarely goes well for the witness.
” She paused just a moment to let Clara absorb this.
“If Elizabeth spoke in anger, if she swore to what she wished was true rather than what she knew, it could jeopardize the entire inquiry against Mrs. Lynn.”
It was true. All of it. But Rosalind was still left with a growing consciousness of her own guilt.
She had steered conversations in this manner before, but it had generally been with strangers, or with persons she understood to be lying.
She had never faced a friend—two friends—and worked so hard to lead them down her chosen path.
She was playing them both false and she was sure this must show in her countenance and that Devon would see it instantly.
But Devon wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Clara.
“Elizabeth cannot be exposed to censure or ridicule now,” Clara said. “It would do lasting harm. I feel sure of it. And Cynthia … Cynthia cannot bear another shock. She is nearly crushed under all that has already happened.”
Rosalind swallowed her guilt in one great lump.
When she was sure she could control her voice, she said, “Mr. Harkness asked the coroner to delay the inquest, just for a day or two so that more facts can be determined, and to minimize the chance that any of the findings will be … misinterpreted at the trial.”
“Is there really a chance of that?” asked Clara.
“Mrs. Lynn has been engaged in a series of schemes,” said Rosalind. “We cannot assume she is friendless and helpless. We know, in fact, that she has collaborators in London. It may well be that during the course of her career there she has gained some influence with powerful men.”
“You’re talking about the potential for extortion,” said Devon.
“Or something very like it,” agreed Rosalind. “Her influence, if it exists, might be used to garner aid for her trial. Our proofs, and our witnesses must be strong, from the first stage to the last.”
Clara turned pale, and Rosalind felt her heart sink further yet.
Someone was knocking at the door.
“Come,” called Devon curtly. The door opened. It was Adam.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” he said. “But I’ve made a discovery that you should hear, Casselmaine.”
“Yes, yes, come in.” Devon ran his hand through his hair again, as if he thought he could find some remaining bit of patience there. “What is it?”
Adam did come in, and he closed the door behind himself. He glanced toward Rosalind and she silently returned her thanks for his interruption.
“I was speaking with Thrush,” said Adam. “When we finished, the new footman, Duggin, came to ask if he should talk to his cousin who is apprenticed to a locksmith about the scullery door.”
“The scullery?” echoed Clara.
Adam nodded. “According to Thrush, the lock on that door has been broken for some time. No one on the staff was told to do anything about it, so no one did. It means that anyone could have come or gone through that door at any time during the party, and none the wiser.”
Clara and Devon stared at each other. Rosalind watched this new development sink in and settle with them both. It mixed with what she’d already said, and raised new fears, and new understanding.
“It is probably nothing,” Adam went on. “But it is the kind of detail that can turn a simple matter into a complex one if it is raised during a trial.”
“Especially when it becomes known that there was an allegation of cheating during the card party,” added Rosalind.
Devon went dead white. “Who …” Rosalind opened her mouth, but he held up his hand. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Damn.” He spat the curse through clenched teeth. “Apologies,” he added to Clara. She waved it away.
Rosalind said nothing. Accusations of cheating at cards could lead to duels, and similar lethal behaviors, and everyone knew it. Combined with an open door … many conclusions might be drawn by a jury.
“Did Layng grant your request for more time?” Devon asked Adam.
“No,” said Adam. “And he says he will not, unless I can produce reliable witnesses, which I cannot promise I’ll be able to find in time.”
“To say Elizabeth is lying,” breathed Clara.
“Or to prove that she is telling the truth,” said Rosalind. “We don’t know now which it will be. We do know Elizabeth is angry and that she has been through great loss. Her judgment may not be as clear as it would be under other circumstances.”
“Do you want me to speak to Layng?” Devon asked Clara. “I might be able to buy Harkness and Miss Thorne, and Elizabeth, additional time.”
Clara did not answer. Instead, she walked over to one of the shelves and picked up a framed etching.
“Morning’s Pride,” she said. “She was Kinsdale’s Pride’s dam.
Mother was up all night with the stable hands while she was being born.
Papa bemoaned her unladylike behavior and she just laughed and said he’d be glad of it when he saw all the new foals we’d breed off her. ”
“Clara—” said Devon.
“No, no, don’t,” she said. “It must be done. I see that. Eliza beth will be even more furious, but I think she will understand, eventually.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. Devon saw and started to his feet. He crossed to her, but stopped halfway.
Rosalind turned immediately to Adam. “I should go speak with Mrs. Kendricks.”
“I’ll go with you,” Adam offered. “I have some questions for her as well.”
They did not flee, precisely, but they did remove themselves from the bookroom with considerable dispatch. Adam closed the door behind them, firmly.
“I hope I shall not have to engage in that sort of conversation again for a very long time,” murmured Rosalind as they walked down the corridor toward the entrance hall.
Adam brushed his fingers against the back of her hand in understanding.
“You overheard the conversation, I assume?” Rosalind asked when they were safely out of earshot of the bookroom.
“That was why I came in when I did.” Adam had far fewer scruples than she did when it came to eavesdropping.
“Is it true then, about the scullery door?”
“It is, and it complicates matters, but there’s more.”
“What is it?”
They had reached the entrance hall, and the door to below-stairs. Adam glanced sharply about to make sure there was no one to hear. Even so, he stepped close to her.
“I already spoke with Mrs. Kendricks,” he breathed. “She had a message from Laurel.”
Rosalind felt her brows rise.
“It seems Elizabeth went out earlier today, and Laurel followed her. She went to the King’s Swan, and she spoke with Mrs. Lynn.”