AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Daniel knew Kitteridge was tense. Not only did he want to win this case, as he wanted to win all cases, but his sympathies were very much with Ebony. Graves had been his client, and he had seen enough of him to dislike him heartily. She was, technically speaking, not his client: he sought her information in order to clear Graves.
‘That must have been a dreadful shock to you,’ Kitteridge resumed. ‘What did you do?’
‘I argued with her,’ Ebony replied. ‘I don’t remember exactly what I said. I told her I had two children, and the result would be to make them illegitimate. I have not the means to care for them without my . . . as I thought, husband. I appealed to her mercy . . .’ She stopped. The memory was clearly humiliating.
Kitteridge did not help her.
Daniel felt his body knotting tightly. He knew why Kitteridge was silent, but he also knew that had he intervened, it would have been wrong. Did the judge see her distress, and know that she had tried, and failed?
‘She laughed at me,’ Ebony said, lifting her head and staring straight back at Kitteridge. ‘She said she had had her years of being beaten and humiliated by him, and she was owed what she would get out of it now. Either she would tell everyone she was his legal wife, and she could prove it – I never doubted her – or he could pay her off every month for her silence and I could stay . . . and be abused by him, and pretend I didn’t know the truth: I was a kept woman, a mistress and not a wife. And – and my children had no claims on him for inheritance – or help of any sort. I . . .’ She stopped.
‘Is that important to you – inheritance – Mrs . . . Miss Cumberford?’
‘Yes. It is. My son, Arthur, is an invalid. He is confined to a wheelchair. His life depends upon regular medical attention. There is a treatment that might ultimately restore him to something like normality, but it is expensive. Without my husband’s providing for us, we would have no way of survival, let alone medical care. My daughter, Sarah, would have no prospect of a good marriage if she . . . she was known to be illegitimate.’
‘Not in your own society, perhaps,’ Kitteridge agreed. ‘But she might find a man who loved her for herself . . .’ His voice trailed off. That was irrelevant at this point, and he realised it. ‘Did you kill her, Mrs . . . Miss Cumberford?’
Her face was white. ‘Yes . . . I suppose I did. I did not mean to. She was very unkind in her language. She called me a whore, an adventuress, and my children bastards. I called her a few things in return. I don’t remember what, but it was equally unpleasant. She lashed out and struck me. I staggered backwards, and when I regained my balance, I slapped her back, open handed, across her face. She lost her balance and fell sideways. She struck her head on the hearth, and did not move again. I realised she was not breathing, and bleeding from her head.’
‘She was dead?’
‘Yes.’
‘But not burned?’
Her voice was barely audible. ‘No.’
‘Did you seek help? Call a maid, or the butler?’
She stiffened. ‘No.’
That was a lie, and Daniel could see it in her face, in the rigidity of her body. Did the judges see it as clearly as he did? Had Kitteridge meant to do that? Or was he unbelievably clumsy? Or worse than that, was he going to betray her by implicating Sarah, or Falthorne? He would have to! Anyone who defended her would have to. She could not have done it alone. But how far was he going to go? What more was necessary to prove that Graves was innocent?
‘Your husband did not help you in any way – I’m sorry, I mean Mr Graves – did not help you?’
She looked surprised. ‘No, of course not! If he had, he’d have known I was not dead, and would never have tolerated being accused of having killed me, let alone come within days of being hanged.’
Kitteridge looked thoughtful. ‘But Winifred Graves was as much a threat to him as to you, surely?’
She looked blank. ‘She could not make him illegitimate, or rob him of his means to live.’
Kitteridge tried to suppress a twisted smile, and did not entirely succeed. ‘No. And I presume his parting from Winifred Graves was not against his will, to put it mildly. But his marriage to you was bigamous, although you did not know it. Bigamy is a crime.’
‘I didn’t know!’ she protested.
‘Not for you, Miss Cumberford, for the person committing it, Russell Graves. It might have remained a secret if Winifred had not presented herself at your home.’
She struggled with temptation. It was visible in her face.
The judge leaned forward and was about to speak, when she finally answered.
‘He did not know anything about it. It was I who . . . who damaged her face so she would not be recognised. I dressed her in some of my clothes, and set fire to her, and—’
Kitteridge did not allow her to finish. ‘How did you that, Miss Cumberford? It must have taken great nerve, and strength.’
‘I suppose so.’
Kitteridge had to make the judge believe him. Daniel had seen his reluctance before the hearing began.
