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Fuck, I said to Belle, they’re going to pull the “our grief made us do it” card.
No great surprise, though in your father’s case, it wasn’t grief but a malicious need to both get rid of you and to make you pay for your perceived inadequacies.
Grief being the contributing factor to forcibly marrying me against my will would be hard to prove, though. Especially when the marriage deal included me inheriting a large chunk of Clayton’s estate and a child bonus. Grief usually made bad bargains, not good.
Perhaps, but it’ll be hard to disprove it, too.
“Were you at all aware the marriage was being proposed?” Anthony asked. “Did you venture any opinion as to the suitability of the connection?”
“It was mentioned in passing, but I said the decision had to be Elizabeth’s.”
“And when the marriage contracts were signed? What was your response? Did you question your daughter?”
“I didn’t need to—Lawrence assured me she had agreed to the contract. I had no reason to question the statement.”
Her gaze flicked across to my father. Theirs had never been a love match but rather a merger that had made them “the” power couple in Canberra. But that look suggested the alliance had fractured beyond repair. Of course, I had no idea if that was the truth or if it was simply an act for the benefit of the watching council.
I wanted to believe the former. I suspected the latter was closer to the truth.
“When did you discover otherwise?” Anthony was saying.
“This year, when I spoke to my daughter for the first time since she left Canberra.”
“I didn’t just leave, I fucking ran in terror,” I said, unable to help myself.
The adjudicator banged the gavel loudly. “Ms. Grace, please refrain from comment unless requested to do so.”
I nodded. Anthony gave me a somewhat sympathetic look, then continued to question Mom. Basically, her responses remained the same—she was grieving, she didn’t see the marriage contract, didn’t speak to me about it, she had no reason to think I was in any way being coerced.
Anthony handed over to Mr. Moderno, who fired off a range of questions that to me seemed only half-heartedly aimed at trying to trip her up. He didn’t, of course, but that was no surprise. My parents had been dealing with legal aggravations like this for most of their lives.
The next witness called was the lawyer who’d drawn up the contract, and who basically confirmed that it was solely my father and Clayton he’d dealt with—my mother was not present at any of the meetings.
Which made me wonder if this was their way of clearing Mom’s name so that she could continue the family business unbesmirched while Dad served whatever minor penance was handed out.
The final witness was the church chancellor, who wasn’t present at the wedding and who couldn’t do much more than confirm that the marriage had been recorded and was indeed legal.
The adjudicator declared the day’s proceedings finished at one forty-five, and once again my father and his counsel left in a hurry.
As Anthony packed up his things, I rose and said, “Has that witness you were waiting for arrived back in Australia yet?”
“No. Plane got delayed.”
There was something in his tone that had my eyebrows rising. “Deliberately?”
“The conspiracy theorists in the team think so.”
“And you?”
“While I’m aware of the existence of weather spells, it’s a bit of a jump to think one could be arranged at such short notice.”
I snorted. “If you have the power and the money, the impossible can very easily become probable—especially when said power and money are held by witches.”
Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “That’s a very cynical attitude to have, young lady.”
“I notice you didn’t deny it.”
“I really can’t when I actually agree.” He hefted his bag onto his shoulder. “Your father takes the stand tomorrow, so it should be an interesting day.”
