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“Then you can do something excitingly desperate, of course.”
Friday 23 October
Westcott’s office
Mr. Radford wore his wig, along with the rest of his courtroom attire. Although he was the one on trial, he was his own barrister as well.
Yes, Clara had seen him in court garb before, but she hadn’t yet become accustomed to the effect. He was elegant. And intimidating. And somehow the robe and wig and lace made him even more potently male.
As she took him in, a little light broke through the black cloud threatening to swallow her.
But only for a moment. The courtroom garb wouldn’t win any admiration from Mama. It shouted Barrister! A felony, because he was murdering her social prestige and therefore her life.
Papa would be the real problem, though. Unlike Mama, he didn’t scold or storm about the house. He only grew quieter and more thoughtful. Not a promising sign.
Since Clara’s parents hadn’t wanted to bring any more people than absolutely necessary into this “farce,” as Mama called it, Mr. Alcox read out the charges. These were more numerous than what Papa had first compiled. He’d merely charged Mr. Radford with being unsuitable in rank and fortune.
This, in Mama’s view, was grossly inadequate. The list she’d compiled was twice as long as and three times more incomprehensible than what Mr. Alcox eventually made of it.
As condensed and translated by Mr. Alcox, Mr. Radford’s crimes were:
1.Soliciting the hand of a young lady he was unable to provide for in a style in any way approaching that to which she was accustomed since birth.
2.Lack of social standing, which would lead to the lady’s becoming an outcast from the society to which she properly belonged.
3.Belonging to a family stained by the scandal of divorce, thereby causing her ladyship to be besmirched by association.
4.Having no social connections he could rely upon to aid him in advancing either in professional or social rank to one more appropriate to her ladyship.
5.Being unlikely to obtain the necessary social connections, due to his consorting with, representing, and/or prosecuting persons of the lowest order, including known criminals.
6.Making deadly enemies among the aforementioned low persons, which circumstance would place Lady Clara in physical danger.
7.Number six increasing the likelihood of Mr. Radford’s untimely demise, he would soon leave her ladyship alone and without the protection of friends—he having none to speak of—thanks to items number two and three.
8.While his diligent care was alleged to have saved her ladyship’s life, it must be pointed out that she would not have required saving, had Mr. Radford not placed her ladyship in a situation leading directly to her becoming severely ill.
9.In relation to number eight: exploiting a position of trust to gain the affections of an innocent girl.
10.Failure to restrain her ladyship from engaging in unsuitable behavior. It was unavailing to claim, as Lady Clara had done, that she insisted on putting herself in jeopardy. Any gentleman who cannot control a headstrong young woman is unfit to carry out the responsibilities of a husband.
Though more than half the list struck Clara as pure nonsense, and made her want to shake her mother, Mr. Radford listened to it all gravely, quite as though he had been charged with heinous crimes.
In lieu of a judge, Mr. Alcox asked, “How do you plead, Mr. Radford?”
He threw Clara one quick glance she couldn’t read.
“Not guilty,” he said.
“This is absurd,” Mama said, turning to Papa. “How can you—”
“Quite right, my dear,” Papa said. “Since this is an informal court, let’s waive the formalities. Mr. Radford, you may proceed.”
Radford set his hand on Westcott’s desk, tidied for the occasion, and bowed his head as he always did when preparing to speak.
He hadn’t heard the full list of charges until this moment. Apparently, Lady Warford had been adding and changing items to the very last minute.
Not that it mattered. He’d known what to expect. He’d understood he was taking a great gamble. He’d seen no alternative.
He raised his head and briefly met Clara’s blue gaze before turning to the parental jury.
He couldn’t look at her for very long and keep a straight face, and today of all days he needed to keep his wits about him.
She’d donned a yellow walking dress for the occasion. The high neckline was the only sober thing about it. It was a redingote, closed along the front by large silk buttons, and at the top by a braided rope from which a pair of little silk pinecones dangled. Embroidered scallops ran down the two sides of the front as well as around the short cape that flowed over gigantic sleeves. Her hat was relatively subdued, boasting no more than half a dozen bows and only a few sprigs sprouting from the top, not much higher than the brim. Inside the brim, ruffles and little flowers framed her face.
Keeping her in the style to which she was accustomed would be a challenge—but then, the result would be so entertaining.
If her stony-faced parents would allow him to keep her.
He said, “Ten charges is a heavy count, indeed. We’ve sent men, women, and children to eternity on a single charge. However, let us remember that marriage, especially among the higher orders, is a far more serious matter than a mere murder among the lowest ranks.”
“I object,” Lord Warford said. “We did not come here for satire and a lecture on social inequalities.”
“Yet social and financial inequality is what your lordship charges me with,” Radford said. “But let us begin at the beginning. Item one: my lack of income. I urge the jury to dismiss this charge. By my own count, at least three of the applicants for Lady Clara’s hand—including a gentleman to whom she was briefly engaged—were less able to provide for her than I am. The latter gentleman, for instance, was deeply in debt.”
“It’s hardly the same thing,” said Lady Warford.
“It is certainly a question worth weighing,” he said. “It seems the gentleman in question was accepted under duress, because he’d compromised Lady Clara in very public circumstances. A scandal, in short. In that case, may we also strike number three? The scandal of my mother’s divorce is quite elderly, having occurred nearly thirty years ago. Lady Clara’s occurred only a few months ago. I believe that makes us even, at the very least.”
“Warford, I protest
,” Lady Warford said. “Will you not put this fellow in his place? The idea—to equate a fortune hunter leading Clara astray—”
“He has a point,” Lord Warford said. “More than one. We may not like what he has to say, but we’ve promised to give the gentleman a fair hearing. In fairness, we must consider dismissing items one and three. Several of Clara’s suitors were on short allowance or in debt.”
“She refused them!”
“It makes no matter. We charged Mr. Radford only with soliciting her hand. The law turns on fine and precise points, my dear.”
“Then as to that, the so-called scandal with that unpleasant man lasted not a day, thanks to his offering for her,” said his lady.
“And the divorce which so troubles you was old news when King George III was still alive,” his lordship said.
“Warford, you cannot take this man’s arguments seriously.”
“I do, indeed,” said he. “And it wanted no great leap of intellect to anticipate Mr. Radford’s response to the scandal item. I recommend you allow the gentleman to continue. For one thing, matters will proceed more swiftly. For another, I do not wish to find myself obliged to strike item number ten as well.”
This sounded promising, but Radford knew Lord Warford was a canny politician. He’d agreed to a fair hearing to accommodate his daughter. On the other hand, he had to live with his wife. But most important, he had rational fears for his daughter’s future, which Radford would have uphill work overcoming.
Meanwhile, he’d disposed only of the easiest issues. The other charges were sticky, indeed, and his emotional self was squirming.
He took a moment to make certain he was completely detached and able to look on from a proper distance at the proceedings.
“Item two,” he said.
Clara needed all her ladyship training to keep her hands loosely folded in her lap and her mouth shut.
She could feel her parents turning against Mr. Radford more and more with every exchange. Mama resented being contradicted by anybody, let alone a Nobody. Clara could feel her seething, though she was doing her best glacier impression. One couldn’t trust Papa’s humor. He was good at using it to get the better of the opposition.
