Henry looked at Thomas thoughtfully. “So you have said. Have you further proof of your innocence?”
“My child by Cordelia Hargrave is present, Your Grace.”
The crowd in the hall gaspedand twittered.
“And do you know how she came to survive your betrothed’s murder, Annesley?”
“Caris Hargrave claimed her as a distant relation, my liege. She was brought up at Darlyrede as their niece.”
“What is this person’s name, Annesley?”
“She was given the name Euphemia Hargraveat her birth.”
“You were not there to directly witnessthese events?”
“Nay, Your Grace. I was by then in Scotland. I had no idea our child had survived until I met her when she came for me.”
“In Scotland,” Henry clarified with a scowl.
“Aye, Your Grace.” Thomas cleared his throat self-consciously.
Henry’s shrewd gaze went directly to Effie, and he nodded tothe intendant.
“The king calls Euphemia Hargrave.”
Effie gained her feet at the announcement of that hated moniker, and made her way slowly down the aisle, where she again paid homage to the king’s presence. She could feel the stares like fleas beneath her gown. Henry nodded at the intendant again.
“The king calls Lady Caris Hargrave.”
Caris made a great show of feebleness as Vivienne Paget helped her to stand and shuffle forward toward the king. She was perhaps only four feet from Effie’s side, and it caused Effie’s stomach to turn.
“Your Grace,” Caris croaked. “Forgive my poor health.”
“Fetch the lady’s chair,” the king called out. Once she was again seated, this time in the aisle, the king continued. “Lady Hargrave, is the woman to your right the one known to you as Euphemia Hargrave?”
Caris turned her gaze toward Effie, and although the woman’s feigned expression was one of weariness and perhaps even a touch of fear, Effie clearly recognized the sparkle of angerthat hid there.
“She is, Your Grace.”
“The same one you claimed was your niece, who went missing from Darlyrede house some ten and five years past?”
Caris looked back to the king. “I confessthat is true.”
“Is she, in fact, your granddaughter, born of Cordelia Hargrave?”
Effie could hear the tension in the air as everyone gathered strained their ears, waiting for the answer Caris Hargrave would give.
“She is, Your Grace.”
The crowd brokeout in murmurs.
“Miss Hargrave,” Henry said, raising his voice to be heard above the commotion. “Why did you abscond from your home at Darlyrede House?”
A million things rushed through Effie’s mind at once. She knew she could put herself and her family at the Warren in grave danger with how she chose to answer the king. She thought of George Thomas, and Gorman, and of Mari and Gale. She lookedat her father.
The truthwould be heard.
“Because I knew that Caris Hargrave had killed my mother, and that Vaughn Hargrave was a monster who was, along with several others in positions of power, responsible for the abduction and torture of hundreds—perhaps thousands—of innocent people in Northumberland and beyond.”
