The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The next trial the following morning was that of William Davidson. Alistair took Viola’s suggestion and tried everything he could to discredit the previous witnesses, but the constables who were permitted to testify, of which there were very few, were practically reading from a prepared playscript.

  Lord Eldon soon grew impatient, and put an end to any reasonable attempt at cross-examination.

  So Alistair made a last-ditch attempt to save the unfortunate man by any means at his disposal.

  "William Davidson was born in Jamaica in 1781, the illegitimate son of the Jamaican Attorney General and a local black woman. He was sent to Glasgow at the age of fourteen to study law.

  "While in Scotland he became involved in the demand for parliamentary reform. As a young man, William Davidson became a sailor and was eventually press-ganged into the Royal Navy," Alistair informed the court.

  "On his discharge he returned to Scotland, and his father sent him to study mathematics in Aberdeen. Davidson did not enjoy his studies and moved to Birmingham, where he started a cabinet-making business. Davidson fell in love with the daughter of a prosperous merchant and all seemed well.

  "The father disapproved of his daughter’s relationship, and suspected that Davidson was after her seventy-thousand pound dowry, so he arranged for him to be arrested on a false charge of theft. It did not hold up, but between that and his being black-balled at the instigation of the merchant, he lost everything.

  "He moved to London and married a working-class widow with four children. In the next few years she had two more babes, and it was a good solid marriage.

  "Davidson became a Wesleyan Methodist and taught at the local Sunday School. This came to an end when he was falsely accused of attempting to seduce a female student.

  "His entire life had been blighted by racism, and I would argue that racism was again a factor in persecuting him for the Cato Street conspiracy.

  "William Davidson was not a long standing member of the Spenceans to the exclusion of all else. He really became involved in radical politics again only after the Peterloo Massacre. After Richard Carlile was found guilty of blasphemy and seditious libel, and sentenced to three years’ imprisonment in October 1819, Davidson became revolutionary, all right. I shall tell you precisely how revolutionary.

  "He joined the Marylebone Union Reading Society, where for twopence a week he was able to read radical newspapers such as the Republican and the Manchester Observer.

  "It was at the Marylebone Union that Davidson met John Harrison, a member of the Spencean Philanthropists in London. Soon afterwards Davidson also became a Spencean. He met Arthur Thistlewood, and within a few months became one of the Committee of Thirteen that ran the organisation.

  "George Edwards pointed out to Arthur Thistlewood an item in The New Times that several members of the British government were going to have dinner at Lord Harrowby’s house at 39 Grosvenor Square.

  "William Davidson agreed to join Thistlewood and several other Spenceans in the plot to go to the house and confront the ministers dining at Lord Harrowby’s house on 23rd February.

  "Thistlewood selected Davidson as one of the Executive of Five whose job it was to organise the petition, since he had worked for Lord Harrowby in the past and knew some of the staff that worked at Grosvenor Square.

  "Edwards had egged them all on, insisting that Harrowby and the others would be there, even though several of Davidson’s old colleagues told him that the Earl of Harrowby was not in London.

  "When Davidson reported this news back to Arthur Thistlewood, Edwards insisted that the servant was lying, and that the assassinations should proceed as planned. Thistlewood believed Edwards, and agreed.

  "During the arrests, Davidson attempted to fight his way out, but Constable Benjamin Gill hit him on the wrist with his truncheon, and claimed he had dropped a blunderbuss.

  "It is Davidson’s contention that he is innocent, and has been the victim, as always, of prejudice against black people. Gifford will try to tell you that he took the supposed blunderbuss out of pawn to use in the attempted assassinations. But how could this be known were it not for the fact that there were so many police infiltrating the group of Spenceans and egging them on to further and further excesses?"

  There seemed to be some sympathy for Davidson, but he was convicted because he had been taken in the loft and had fought so hard for his freedom that he had violently resisted arrest by his former supposed friends.

  Alistair’s heart sank as the jury declared him guilty, and Eldon gave him the capital sentence as well.

  Viola squeezed his hand. "We still have the other seven men. You know we can still—"

  "God help me, but I just don’t know any more. Maybe if we changed the plea—"

  Philip shook his head. "We need to try one more time. Richard Tidd is up next, Brunt’s friend."

  Alistair did his best, and his testimony ran along the precise same lines as Brunt’s. He was an ordinary shoemaker until the economic deprivation caused by the war caused him to turn to Radical politics.

  Then Gifford’s lying witnesses went to work on him. Viola listened to the damaging testimony with a growing sense of despair, but she tried to remain cheerful for Alistair’s sake. She had to admit that she had never met a more admirable and principled man in her life than her husband.

  But each day as the trials had worn on and the lies were repeated over and over again, and he was given no chance to do his job properly, she saw a little bit of the spark within him die.

  He was heart-sick and still badly shaken by all that had happened to him, and had nearly happened to his three friends. Not to mention her. Now his faith in the very justice system he had revered all his life was being shredded from him bit by bit, and more lives were being lost with every passing moment.

  Tidd was found guilty too, and sentence pronounced on him. Alistair and Viola went home to lick their wounds once more.

  Finally she said to him that night in bed, after some particularly pensive lovemaking, "I’m sorry, Alistair. I know how much you want to save them, but you know what Sidmouth said."

  "That’s no reason not to try," he gritted out.

  "No, I know that. But you can’t win, my love. Not at the rate we’re going. I think you just need to be grateful if he is going to keep his end of the bargain and let the Rakehells remain unmolested."

  "Oh, darling, I know it could have been so much worse. But this country could be so much better."

  She stroked his shoulder. "I know. But I think this is also going to be the end one way or the other. People know exactly what the government ministers are capable of now, sending innocent men to their deaths. Tricking and duping them. Yes, there will be four or five martyrs if Sidmouth keeps his word, but it will be upon their bones that the new reform movement will spring up."

  Alistair nodded, and sat up a moment. "Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t win. But I can certainly get public opinion on my side."

  "But you know the laws about sedition—"

  "There are other Radicals besides Randall and Thomas. We need to get them to ask the questions, not let this whole thing die down even when the verdict is finally in on all of them. When Thistlewood and whoever else is going to the scaffold has been passed sentence upon. Even when they are hung drawn and quartered, we will not let England forget. Will you help me?"

  "Of course, darling, if I can."

  He kissed her hard, and leapt out of bed, dragging on his dressing gown.

  "We’re going to change our plea to guilty for the other six men, with their permission of course. There's no sense in dragging out this farce longer than necessary. Then we need to go to George and find Sebastian. I know they can get us what we need. If I can’t save Thistlewood well, by God, I will save England."

  Viola nodded, and prayed that Alistair was right.

  So Viola tracked down her old friend at The New Rose, and told George Alistair’s plan. He did not seem in th
e least surprised. In fact, he looked almost as if he had been expecting her.

  "But do know what this could mean for Sebastian?"

  "I know. But then he’s been a spy for a long time, hasn't he. He has all the right contacts, and in any case, he wants out. You steal the information we need, we blackmail them into letting him go. You too if you want out of the service."

  He shook his head. "Perhaps some other time. I still haven’t given up hope of finding my brothers yet."

  Viola smiled gently. "All right, but if you change your mind—"

  George shrugged. "It’s been too long. I’m not even sure I can find another way of life after this. But Sebastian has chances now that we never dreamed of. And you’re married to a far better man than any of us could have hoped. I admire Alistair’s guts. He’s a tiger for justice. I’m only sorry he can’t win."

  Viola lifted her chin proudly. "No one ever imagined a tiny nation like England could ever beat Napoleon, but we did. Wellington held firm, eveyone did their duty, and we defeated him. It may take time, but we will win Parliamentary reform and freedom. Perhaps one day even women will get to vote."

  "Not in our lifetime," George said with an incredulous shake of his head.

  "Perhaps not, but nothing will ever change if we don’t fight for what we want, the kind of world we would like to live in."

  "You’re a brave woman, Viola."

  She patted his hand. "No, you’re the brave one. Fighting behind the scenes, doing the right thing, and no one ever getting to know how truly brave you are. How much you’ve lost. And no woman ever getting to enter into your life because you’re so afraid she’ll find out what you are. Or what you think you are."

  He looked surprised, but nodded. "Yes, that’s pretty much it."

  "And you’re too honest and decent to even have a quick futter. It must be so difficult."

  "Glad you didn’t use the word hard," he said with a shaky laugh.

  "One day, George, one day soon. Sometimes people can surprise you."

  George shook his head. "No, I think I’ve pretty much seen it all now. Though I have to admit you and Alistair did startle me a bit. I didn’t think either of you had it in you to stick to the course. I just hope you won’t regret this."

  She squared her shoulders and said stoutly. "The Rakehells would have died if we hadn’t done something. And poor Philip. So no, not a single regret. And by the way, thank you for helping him. I know you were the one who broke in through the servants’ quarters of the other house and saved his wife and children."

  "He wasn’t supposed to tell you!" George exploded.

  Viola smiled. "He didn’t. You did. The body switches. Very clever. No matter what you do, what happens, George, you’ll always be my hero, After Alistair, of course. And possibly Sebastian."

  "Thanks, love. You take care."

  "And you. And tell Sebastian to come home soon."

  "I will when I see him again. He’s out of the country at the moment," he said with a grin.

  "Hmm, that sounds promising. Philip spoke to you, didn’t he? After Thistlewood was convicted. I thought I saw you."

  "Aye, there’s a certain ferrety-faced spy who might be persuaded to come back to England to stand trial."

  Viola’s heart soared. "Oh, George, if Sebastian could only manage—"

  George shrugged one shoulder, his face now closing up into its usual impassive expression. "We’ll just have to wait and see."

  CHAPTER FORTY

  But the trial of the Cato Street Conspirators wrapped up far sooner than Alistair hoped. Viola had passed on the message, but four days later on April 28th, the jury went into deliberation on the last six men, who had agreed to plead guilty.

  Alistair and Viola held their breath and clutched each other’s hands nervously as they sat with Thistlewood and the others.

  "I want to thank you all. You give it the best attempt you could. No matter what happens, you can’t blame yourself," Thistlewood said. "We were going to be killed no matter what. I only hope the last six of us pleading guilty will shame them into showing mercy."

  "There’s still an appeal," Alistair said hopefully.

  Thistlewood shook his head. "Unless we can get Edwards, there’s no chance."

  Alistair and Viola held their breath, but after several hours, the other six men were found guilty. Alistair slumped against the table as he heard each of the sentences being read out. At last he dragged himself to his feet to face Lord Chief Justice Eldon once more.

  "It remains only for me to ask for clemency in this case, but my Lord shall do as he sees fit. Or as his political masters decide."

  Eldon gazed at him steadily. "The sentence is quite clear for treason. Death by hanging, drawing and quartering. However, in view of the circumstances, I am prepared to be lenient in some instances.

  "In this one, for example," he added after an agonising pause. "It is quite clear that there is a difference between rioting, and inciting to riot. Therefore those people who instigated these heinous acts are the most culpable."

  "In that case why do I not see Edwards in the dock?" Alistair retorted.

  Viola had to clamp her hand over her mouth to stop herself from seconding his statement.

  Eldon glared at Alistair. "You will not interrupt again, nor will I listen to any more nonsense about this man Edwards. As I was saying, the ring leaders have quite clearly been Arthur Thistlewood, John Brunt, James Ings, Richard Tidd, and William Davidson. Therefore they shall receive the capital sentence, and may God have mercy on ttheir souls.

  "But as for the others, John Harrison, James Wilson, Richard Bradburn, John Shaw Strange, James Gilchrist and Charles Copper, they too ought to be given the capital sentence. But I am prepared to commute it to transportation to the Antipodes for life, since they were willing to plead guilty in the end."

  Alistair nodded. "Half."

  "Excuse me?"

  "That was the bargain Lord Sidmouth gave me the night of the arrests. The night he tried to murder my friends the Duke of Ellesmere and the Earl of Hazelmere. That I would get to save half of the men arrested."

  "My God, the man has taken leave of his senses!" Gifford exploded.

  Alistair looked at him coolly. "No, actually I’ve only just come to them. I thank you for your clemency for the six men, and deplore your harshness with the other five. It only remains now for you to set a date of execution. And this is the last time I shall be appearing before the King’s Bench if this is the sort of justice one can expect in this country."

  "How dare you—"

  "Edwards was the insitgator, and I shall prove it. Though alas, I doubt I shall be able to prove in time to save these men unless you are prepared to wait a week or so for their executions."

  Eldon looked down his long nose and shook his head. "No, the first of May shall be the date. No sense in keeping them around in the shadow of the noose. It’s cruel."

  Alistair threw his shoulders back and looked Eldon straight in the eye. "You mean there's no sense in running the risk of me filing and appeal because I'm able to offer up more evidence on their behalf, because this whole thing has been such a rushed affair. You mark my words, I shall not rest until Edwards is found and his role in this whole sorry business made fully known."

  Eldon glowered at him. "The case is over."

  "I wish to appeal."

  "Denied," he said peremptorily.

  There was a murmur of discontent all around the room now.

  "It’s over. There are no grounds for appeal, Mr. Grant."

  "Half." Alistair shook his head. "Half. Those lousy bas—"

  Viola grabbed his arm. "No, love, it will do you no good."

  "And transportation for the rest. Given all Philip has told me about the prisons, the hulks and the penal colony, it might be even worse than simply being hung."

  Alistair stared around him in dismay as he realised it really was all over. The courtroom emptied quietly, everyone subdued at the sight of how hard and pass
ionately he and his whole team had fought, and how it had all come to nothing. They had been outmanoeuvred at every turn, but justice certainly had not been done.

  "Come, my dear, let’s go home," Viola urged. "There is nothing you can do here at the moment. Come rest and have something to eat."

  Philip sighed. "I’m sorry. I know it isn’t much consolation, but Sidmouth did keep his word. And with any luck the Rakehells will remain safe. Also you and Viola and her brother."