Chapter Sixteen
The coach had scarcely stopped before Victoria opened the door.
She crossed the entrance hall without waiting to be announced, Elias at one shoulder and Cole at the other. Pruett remained only long enough to hear that Sophy was in the west nursery before going upstairs to her.
Sir Roland Hemsworth met them in the small saloon adjoining the drawing room. The door beyond stood closed, but voices carried faintly through it.
“Lady Harwood,” he said. “I had not expected you quite so soon. Or so well accompanied.”
His gaze passed over Elias and Cole before returning to her.
“You have gained admittance to the house,” he said. “Though I daresay that does not, of itself, give you the child.”
“Not yet,” Victoria replied.
His eyes moved to Cole’s case, and understanding sharpened his expression.
“Right,” he said. “You have shown me a ruined man’s accusations and four words upon a draft, and imagine they will suffice.”
“I showed you enough to make you open the gate.”
“I opened it because Sir Giles is coming, and I have no objection to letting him dispose of this nonsense.”
“Then we agree upon one thing.”
Roland’s mouth tightened.
Victoria crossed to the long table and placed the copied endorsement upon it between them.
“You built the whole of this upon the belief that I would remain frightened, isolated, and grateful for whatever terms you offered me. You were wrong.”
“I acted to preserve my cousin’s daughter from an unsuitable household.”
“You paid one man to compromise me and another to learn my daughter’s movements.”
“Crayle will say whatever purchases his escape.”
“That is why we brought the drafts.”
Roland looked at the paper but did not touch it.
“You still cannot prove what those words concern.”
“No,” Victoria said. “Mr Cole will do that before the court. You need only decide whether Sir Giles first hears the evidence from us or the explanation from you.”
Roland’s control slipped by a degree.
“You presume a great deal upon a handful of words.”
“I presume nothing. I came with Crayle’s sworn account, the trail of his debts, and your own hand upon the payment. You may call each piece insufficient by itself. Sir Giles will be asked to consider them together.”
“And what do you expect of me?”
“My daughter.”
“The order places her in my care.”
“The order has been suspended.”
“By a judge in London who has heard only your account.”
“As Sir Giles heard only yours.”
The answer landed. Roland looked towards the door, though there had been no sound from the hall.
“You have spent months making every door appear closed to me,” Victoria continued.
“You took Sophy because you believed the law would move too slowly to stop you. Now the law has reached your house, and the man whose confidence obtained your first order is on his way to read what you kept from him.”
Roland’s face had gone very still.
“You imagine Sir Giles will turn against a family he has known thirty years.”
“I think that is why the truth will shame him.”
A carriage sounded upon the gravel outside.
Neither of them looked away from the other.
“That will be Sir Giles,” Victoria said. “When he enters, you may give him whatever innocent meaning you have devised for ‘the remainder upon completion.’”
The front door opened below. Voices crossed the hall.
Victoria took the copied draft from the table and returned it to Cole.
“Now,” she said, “we shall do this in the daylight.”
The room had been handsome once and was handsome still in the cold manner of the whole house, its tall windows giving upon the leafless avenue and its fire lit too late to warm anything.
Sir Giles Marret was shown in with the look of a country justice who had ridden out expecting to settle a friend’s domestic difficulty and was beginning, from the temperature of the room, to suspect he had entered a graver matter.
Roland remained at the hearth with the glass he was not drinking, arranging his face into the expression of a wronged and patient man.
Cole set his case upon the long table without being invited, drew out his papers, and squared them.
The small, deliberate sound of them being made ready was the only sound in the room for a moment.
It did more to unsettle Roland than any speech could have done, because it was the sound of a man who had come not to plead but to prove.
“Lady Harwood,” Roland said smoothly, “you have come a long way to make a scene in a house of mourning. I had hoped we might spare the child the sight of her mother in a state.”
“My daughter has already seen herself taken from her home under a lie,” Victoria replied. “I do not think my presence can frighten her worse than you have.”
Roland turned his patient expression upon Sir Giles.
“You see the difficulty. A mother governed by distress, a second husband known for his temper, and a child already placed by lawful order in her guardian’s care. I ask only that the arrangement remain undisturbed until the court can consider the matter properly.”
“That would be reasonable,” Cole said, “if the order had been honestly obtained.”
Sir Giles shifted in his chair.
“Your name, sir?”
“Cole. I act for Lord and Lady Harwood.”
“And you have brought papers which, I understand, could not wait until a civilised hour.”
“I have brought evidence that Mr Hemsworth procured possession of the child upon allegations he had himself contrived.”
“That is a grave accusation.”
“It is supported by a sworn statement, financial instruments, and an endorsement in Sir Roland Hemsworth’s own hand.”
Roland gave a small, incredulous laugh.
“You propose to overturn a father’s testamentary appointment with papers assembled overnight in haste?”
“I propose first to show Sir Giles what stands behind the order he granted.”
Cole drew the order from his case.
“Sir Roland represented that the child was endangered in her mother’s household and that immediate removal was necessary. Those representations supplied the urgency by which Lady Harwood was denied notice or opportunity to answer.”
“A mother invariably denies neglect,” Roland said. “They always do.”
“I do not rely upon the mother’s denial.”
Cole placed another document beside the first.
“This is the sworn statement of Sir Peregrine Crayle.”
A muscle stilled in Roland’s face.
“Crayle is a drunkard and a ruined man. He would swear to anything for the price of a bottle.”
“He might,” Cole agreed. “Which is why his statement is not the only evidence.”
Sir Giles held out his hand.
“Let me see it.”
Cole passed him the pages.
“Sir Peregrine states that Sir Roland Hemsworth acquired control of his debts during the spring and used that control to compel his conduct at Ashcombe. He was instructed to follow Lady Harwood from the ballroom, prevent her departure, and create the appearance of a compromising encounter.”
Sir Giles glanced up. “For what purpose?”
“To force her into marriage with Crayle. Sir Roland judged a ruined and dependent husband more easily directed than a widow with control of her own child.”
“This is absurd,” Roland said.
Cole continued as though he had not spoken.
“When Lady Harwood married the Earl of Harwood instead, Sir Peregrine was retained for another purpose. He was to testify, if required, that her conduct at Ashcombe had been willing. Later, he was instructed to provoke the earl before witnesses, so that the Harwood household might be represented as violent.”
Sir Giles’s eyes moved from the statement to Roland.
“You are describing a considerable conspiracy, Mr Cole.”
“I am.”
“Against a widow who possessed no great political consequence and whose fortune has now been secured to her. What justified such expense?”
“The child,” Victoria said.
The men looked towards her.
“Sir Roland spoke of family duty,” she continued.
“But family honour does not commonly require purchased debts, foreign bankers, false testimony, and men paid to learn when a child leaves her home. Sophy possesses a substantial trust under her father’s will.
Sir Roland was named her guardian and would have had the management of it during her minority. ”
“That is a lie,” Roland said.
“No,” Cole replied. “The trust accounts establish the amount and the guardian’s authority over its administration. They show what control of the fund would place in Sir Roland’s hands. The rest will require a full accounting.”
Sir Giles frowned.
“And you believe that was his object?”
“I believe the evidence gives us ample reason to ask the question.”
Roland’s composure tightened.
“You turn ordinary estate business into conspiracy because it suits you.”
“No,” Victoria said. “You turned my daughter into estate business because it suited you.”
The answer silenced the room.
Sir Giles returned to Crayle’s statement.
“This remains the word of a man who admits himself bought.”
“Precisely,” Cole said. “Though, once again, I shall not ask you to rely upon his word alone.”
He laid two thin papers beside the statement.
“These drafts passed through the banking house involved in the purchase of Sir Peregrine’s debts. He retained them against the day he might require protection from the man who held him.”
Sir Giles picked up the first.
“And this proves Hemsworth’s involvement?”
“The course of the money remains to be confirmed. The second paper is more immediate.”
Cole turned it over.
“Read the endorsement.”
Sir Giles did so.
His gaze remained upon the four words for some time.
“‘The remainder upon completion.’”
“In Sir Roland’s hand,” Cole said. “The writing may be compared with his correspondence. The bank may be compelled to produce its records. Crayle has agreed to submit to examination and repeat his statement before the court.”
Roland set down his glass.
“A line upon a draft proves nothing. Completion of what? A debt? A transaction? A dozen innocent meanings might be given to it.”
“Then you will have ample opportunity to supply one,” Cole replied. “Under oath.”
The room became very quiet.