Chapter 30
As their hackney turned off Newgate Street towards the Old Bailey, the road was blocked by two stationary carriages, whose drivers were shouting at one another after nearly colliding. In frustration Elizabeth leaned out of the window and called to the cabbie, who responded by joining in the shouting match. Suddenly the road cleared and the hackney resumed its uneven progress.
She smiled reassuringly at Helena. ‘Almost there. I only hope we are in time.’
‘The clock struck four just after we reached Aldersgate,’ Harte said.
‘Then the court should still be in session.’ Elizabeth regarded the groom approvingly, grateful that he had agreed to accompany them all the way to London. Her party, including Bertha and Agnes as well as Helena, had set off in great haste at noon on the previous day, with the aim of meeting the southbound Union stagecoach at Market Harborough. By taking this route she hoped to minimise any chance of encountering Pritchett, who preferred the route from Rugby. The only suitable carriage was a phaeton, a tight fit for a party of five plus luggage, but at least it was light and fast, so that they made good time. In Market Harborough there was a tense two-hour wait before two coaches rolled in, and luckily there was just room. While they waited, there was a discussion over whether Abel Harte should accompany them to London, or drive the phaeton back to Wistham Court. Now very much in his debt Elizabeth was reluctant to make further demands on his time, but to her relief he insisted on leaving the phaeton at the carriage house of an inn, and coming with them. She saw that with no other man in the party, he felt it was his duty to take care of Helena, whom he had served for many years; and of course, he also had a particular interest in Agnes.
By evening they were past Northampton, where they stopped for the night at a coaching inn near Olney. Elizabeth, to her embarrassment, had no money left, but fortunately she had persuaded Helena to load her purse from Mrs Partridge’s housekeeping funds, so they could afford comfortable rooms. Early next morning the coaches left, finally reaching their destination at the Bull and Mouth inn, Aldersgate Street—providentially a mere ten-minute ride from the Old Bailey.
On arriving at the grand domed foyer Elizabeth quickly ascertained that the trial was still in progress, and after consulting Helena suggested that Harte should take Bertha and Agnes for a bite to eat, and return in an hour. The women then hastened to a cloakroom, where Elizabeth tried to relieve her tired eyes by splashing them with water, and arranged a black veil as best she could over the colourful welts and bruises on her face. A gulp of water, two deep breaths, and she felt as ready as she ever would be for the next encounter.
As they edged through the half-open door into the courtroom, Elizabeth immediately spotted Darcy in the witness box, with the jury regarding him coldly and the gallery listening in rapt attention. ‘After that we both fell to the ground, and I must have passed out.’ A sigh ran round the room, most people on the edge of their seats as they waited for the next question. Someone whispered loudly, ‘Gut shot!’ In her stomach she felt a lurch of fear: it was really happening, Darcy was on trial for murder, and the bespectacled gentleman on the bench might on the morrow sentence him to deportation or death by hanging. At least nobody had remarked their entry into the courtroom, and grateful for this, she identified Lord Harbury sitting near the front, told Helena to remain at the door, and with head bowed trod carefully down the aisle. The welcome sight of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Bingley distracted her for a moment, but neither of them sensed her approach.
Reaching Lord Harbury’s side, she whispered very softly: ‘Excuse me your lordship, but we must talk immediately, for I have evidence that will shame your family if I am forced to reveal it.’
He turned sharply, and said in bewilderment, ‘Madam, have I had the pleasure …’
‘We met at the theatre,’ she reminded him. ‘I am Miss Bennet, and I have come with your niece, who can confirm the accuracy of my story.’ She pointed to the back of the courtroom, and on throwing a glance over his shoulder he was visibly startled.
‘Helena? What is she doing here?’
‘We need …’ Elizabeth began again, but cut short her plea on seeing that he was already getting to his feet. As she retreated to give him room she glanced towards the witness box, and discovered to her horror that Darcy was observing her intently. She span round, blood rushing to her face as she heard him mutter her name, and with her eyes fixed to the floor strode back up the aisle.
In Lord Harbury’s company it was not difficult to find a meeting place, and before long they were seated in the luxurious privacy of the Lord Mayor’s Clerk’s Room, which boasted four leather chairs and a mahogany desk with prestigious prints and certificates adorning the walls. Shocked as he must have been by Elizabeth’s unexpected approach, Lord Harbury’s manners remained impeccable, as with calm courtesy he ordered for tea, sandwiches and cakes to be brought, reminding her that she was hungry as well as exhausted.
Deliberately, Elizabeth unlaced her bonnet and removed the attached veil, keeping her eye steadily on Lord Harbury.
His reaction did not disappoint. ‘Miss Bennet, have you met with an accident? I’m distressed to see your face so sorely bruised.’
‘You’re very kind.’ She sighed. ‘And your kindness redoubles my pain at the first piece of news that I have to recount.’ She pointed to her face. ‘I received these injuries not by accident, but by deliberate infliction, at the hands of your nephew Sir Arthur Kaye. Two days ago, after visiting Miss Kaye, I was forcibly detained by Sir Arthur’s gamekeeper at a remote cottage. When your nephew arrived, he ordered the gamekeeper to hold me while he, ah, took his pleasure on my person. He was in the act of removing my dress when I managed to free one of my hands and rake his cheek with my nails. You may have noticed the injury, which fortunately discouraged him from proceeding any further. In return he twice slapped my face, with the results you now see.’
He frowned. ‘I hope you are aware, Miss Bennet, of the very serious nature of such an accusation.’
‘Indeed I am, sir.’
‘Then you will pardon my incredulity. Why would Sir Arthur order your detention, let alone abuse you in such a manner? What could his motive possibly be?’
Elizabeth glanced at Helena, who was observing the exchange with curious impassivity, as if they were merely engaged in a routine discussion of the weather. ‘Sir Arthur had every reason to fear me, for with Miss Kaye’s help I was investigating the conduct of your late brother-in-law.’ She spread her arms, as if to signal that all would now be revealed. ‘You see, I am not a neutral party in his quarrel with Mr Darcy. I have known Mr Darcy for some time, and he has rendered great service to my family. I know him to be a decent and honourable man, who would never have engaged in such a quarrel without good cause. I think you well understand his motive in refusing to apologise to your brother-in-law. Sir Osborne was a cruel blackguard who shamelessly exploited his servants, some of them almost children, to satisfy his own sordid lusts. On meeting Helena, Miss Kaye, I discovered that a series of maids had been abused, some dismissed because they became pregnant, and some discarded in town, probably given or sold to bawdy houses. This is why I went to Wistham, and this is why Sir Arthur, on discovering my purpose, ordered for me to be kept under lock and key until the trial was over, and Mr Darcy safely removed from the scene.’
Lord Harbury glanced at his niece, as if looking for signs that she would confirm this story. Elizabeth hoped that Helena would say something in her support, but she remained silent, her eyes staring blankly ahead.
He turned back to Elizabeth, frowning. ‘And have you any evidence to back up these extraordinary assertions?’
‘I have brought two maids, Bertha and Agnes. Bertha is thirteen, a child really, and was the girl that Mr Darcy rescued. I suppose Mr Darcy could have called her as a witness, but he feared a servant might not be believed, and in any case did not wish to expose her to this further ordeal. Agnes was Helena’s ladies maid until a few days ago, when
she was removed on Sir Arthur’s instructions, and imprisoned in the same cottage as myself. We would presumably be there still, had we not managed yesterday morning to engineer an escape. She can bear witness to the experiences of other maids who were once her friends. Among the families in Wistham, I have talked with one maid who was dismissed after becoming pregant with Sir Osborne’s child, and a woman named Mrs Clover whose daughter Lucy has disappeared in London.’
She looked across at Helena, hoping that she would add a few words about Lucy Clover, but was again met with silence.
Lord Harbury spread his hands, like a man striving to remain patient in the face of blatant unreason. ‘You must excuse me, Miss Bennet, but again I see no evidence, only hearsay. Yes, I grant you that my brother-in-law may have overstepped the mark with this maid—Bertha I think you said—when he was interrupted by Mr Darcy. These relationships across classes are an unfortunate fact of life, but they are complex, and sometimes it is unclear who is exploiting whom. Plainly this has upset you, and I’m sorry it has been brought to your attention. I would have expected better of Mr Darcy, or whoever is responsible for advising you. But these other stories are simply unsubstantiated. Who is to say, if a maid becomes pregnant, who was the father? How do we know under what circumstances the other maid, Lucy, disappeared in London? Perhaps she left of her own free will.’ He faced her very deliberately. ‘Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that you can persuade me by evidence of this kind to intervene in my nephew’s prosecution of Mr Darcy.’
There was a long silence, and dejectedly Elizabeth realised she had failed. After all her efforts and sacrifices, her loss of Bridget’s friendship, her abuse by Arthur Kaye, her deceit of Helena, it had come to this: the evidence rested ultimately on the word of servants, and as such would be dismissed. Yes, there was her own testimony on what had transpired in the cottage, but this could also be dismissed as a fabrication motivated by bias, since she would be seen as Darcy’s confidant, willing to say anything to procure his release.
Desperately she returned to Sir Osborne’s assault on Bertha, the only point that Lord Harbury seemed disposed to concede. ‘Can you honestly claim that your brother-in-law was a decent and honourable man, sir? Consider that Bertha was just thirteen years old, a mere child. What kind of gentleman would mete out such treatment to a girl of such a tender age?’
He sighed, as if frustrated by her naivety. ‘These are not matters that a young lady such as yourself can possibly speak of, Miss Bennet. I know you mean well, but you must understand that people vary, and that a maid of thirteen years may have already reached maturity. We’re speaking here of a young woman of thirteen, not a child of ten. Sir Osborne was no saint, but to accuse him on this evidence of molesting children is outrageous.’
Elizabeth was on the point of disputing this when there was an almost inaudible whimper on her left, and Helena Kaye said, very softly and without expression: ‘I was ten, the year after mother died.’
Lord Harbury threw his niece a momentary glance, as if surprised that she was still in the room. ‘What has that to do with it?’
Helena’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. ‘I was ten, so I was only a child.’
A shiver passed through Elizabeth’s body. She turned to Helena and said very gently and matter-of-factly: ‘Only a child?’
‘Father, please, I don’t want to.’ Helena stared ahead with eyes half-closed, as if in a trance.
‘My dear, are you feeling unwell?’ Lord Harbury said.
Helena’s voice switched to a low growl. ‘It will be our secret and you must never tell anyone. Never, never, never, do you understand?’
Elizabeth and Lord Harbury regarded each other in horror, as Helena continued in a babyish voice: ‘No father, please, I don’t like it, No, No, No …’ Then she screamed. ‘No! Sorry father, I’m a bad girl, but I don’t want to!’
Elizabeth moved to her side and put an arm around her. ‘Helena dear, it’s all right, you’re safe, nobody will ever harm you again.’ She looked up at Lord Harbury. ‘Sir, you’re her family, please help me …’
Wheels were obviously spinning furiously in his mind, and Elizabeth instantly understood. If he admitted the truth of what Helena had revealed, he would have to accept that Sir Osborne was a monster—not merely a rake who enjoyed seducing servant girls, but a sick pervert who had violated his own child. Would he take this momentous step, despite its implications for the trial, or would he coldly betray Helena and reject her revelation as fantasy?
Elizabeth longed to appeal to him further, but by instinct held back. She watched, transfixed, until suddenly his expression softened, and with a cry of pain he kneeled beside his niece and enfolded her in his arms. ‘Oh my dear child, I’m so sorry. Forgive me. I had no idea.’
Elizabeth carefully stepped back and returned to her chair. Minutes passed, until eventually Lord Harbury struggled stiffly to his feet, and Helena, now calmer, took out a handkerchief to dry her eyes.
‘I’m sorry, uncle,’ she said quietly. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken. It was our secret. Father said I should tell no-one, not even my best friend, not even Arthur.’
He shook his head, obviously devastated. ‘Don’t worry about that, my dear. You’ve done nothing wrong. We will talk about it later if you wish. Meanwhile’—he rose to his feet—‘I need to talk in private with Miss Bennet.’ He turned to Elizabeth. ‘Can you please excuse me for a moment while I find someone who can stay with my niece?’
Chapter 31
Elizabeth waited, still shaking with emotion, until Lord Harbury returned alone. He looked more composed, and addressed her quietly as he took his seat, the combative tone now gone from his voice.
‘Thank you for your patience. I returned to the courtroom to find an acquaintance of mine, Lady Carmichael, who has agreed to take Helena to the tea-room.’
‘Is Mr Darcy’s testimony still in progress?’
‘Our counsel has just begun cross-examination.’ He glanced at a clock on the mantelpiece. ‘They should adjourn for the day in half an hour.’
‘So the trial is set to continue tomorrow?’
‘Yes.’ He sighed deeply. ‘Miss Bennet, there are a number of things I need to say to you. But first, may I express my dismay that a member of my family has treated you so ill. I am no longer going to dispute the truth of what you have told me. I see it from your honest and brave countenance; I see it also in the warning signs I have noticed in the behaviour of my brother-in-law, and also on occasions my nephew. Do not misunderstand me. I’m not saying that I will own these facts in public. I am admitting them to you now, in private, because I am truly sorry and I trust your discretion.’
‘I thank you for your gracious words, sir. However, as regards my discretion, you will be aware that I’m very desirous of a favourable outcome to this trial.’
He studied her closely. ‘Let us speak plainly. You’re saying that unless the prosecution is dropped, you will make public everything that has been revealed today. The abuse to yourself, to the servants, even—to my niece. Do I understand correctly?’
‘I don’t want to blackmail you, Lord Harbury. I want you to take your nephew in hand, and instruct him to reach a settlement with Mr Darcy, not because you have been threatened, but because it is the right thing to do.’
‘And if I refuse?’ he demanded.
‘Then I will do my utmost to protect the people I care for,’ Elizabeth returned.
He stared at her. ‘You would never do that. You would not shame my niece by making public what we learned a few minutes ago. It would destroy her happiness for ever.’
She shrugged, with the hint of a smile. ‘Who knows what I am capable of? Mr Darcy once compared me to a tigress defending her cubs.’
‘You give me no assurance in that regard?’
‘I give you no assurance of anything, Lord Harbury, until I have your word that all charges against Mr Darcy are to be dropped.’
There was a long silence, before he raised his palms i
n resignation.
‘You are a remarkable woman, Miss Bennet.’
She laughed with a sudden release of tension. ‘An ambiguous compliment if ever I heard one, sir. Jezebel was a remarkable woman.’
‘You mentioned the word settlement. Assuming that my influence over my nephew is as effective as you seem to believe, what would be the terms?’
‘We should discuss that with Mr Darcy, but for my part, I would suggest full acceptance of Mr Darcy’s defence—namely, that he rescued Bertha from abuse at Sir Osborne’s hands, and could not bring himself to apologise for this when challenged.’
‘And what of your own mistreatment? I assume Mr Darcy is not yet aware of this?’
‘No. I dread to think what he will do when I tell him.’
‘Call my nephew out, I would imagine. Any gentleman would.’
Elizabeth raised her hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘And so on until we are all dead! This has to stop.’
He studied her closely. ‘You are willing to forgo any public exposure of my nephew? To pardon him, in other words?’
‘Pardon him!’ Elizabeth failed to suppress a snort of laughter. ‘Sir, your nephew is a depraved halfwit, and I have no interest in him whatever except to prevent him from harming people I care for. Yes, I will tell Mr Darcy, and do all in my power to dissuade him from seeking redress from one so worthless. For the rest, I will keep silence—unless of course my hand is forced. I see no benefit in upsetting my family.’ She raised a forefinger. ‘But I am concerned also for Helena, and some families in Wistham, over whom Sir Osborne’s shadow still hangs. Indeed I fear for them at this moment, since Sir Arthur’s steward Mr Pritchett will have returned to Wistham Court and liberated the gamekeeper and his assistant.’
Darcy's Trial Page 18