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“Hard to tell,” Edgeley replied with the slightest shrug. “People don’t give reasons for things.”
“I am beginning to appreciate what a difficult profession it is,” Daniel said sympathetically. “Whom do you trust? Not Sidney, apparently.”
Edgeley snapped, “Not if you’ve any sense!”
“And yet they didn’t dismiss him? Curious, don’t you think? He has no wealth, no connections, no family influence. Perhaps you can explain that, so the jury understands. I admit, I don’t.”
Jemima held her breath. She was only dimly aware of Patrick stiffening beside her.
“Mr. Edgeley?” Daniel prompted.
“I don’t know!” Edgeley snapped.
“You did tell them, I take it?” Daniel affected innocence. “Perhaps they are corrupt also?”
“I didn’t say they were corrupt!” Edgeley was now very clearly upset.
“No. I believe you still work at the Foreign Office. Or am I mistaken?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And you are about to see Mr. Sidney get his just deserts. You must be very…satisfied?”
“Leave it alone,” Jemima said under her breath. Patrick turned to look at her, puzzled. He could barely have heard her, surely? Then with a flood of horror, she realized why he was staring at her. She wanted Daniel to win! She was cheering him on! It couldn’t be Sidney she was supporting. She would have to explain that, perhaps when they got home. Certainly not now.
Hillyer knew enough to leave the testimony well alone. He called his next witness, another pleasant enough man, older than Edgeley. Hillyer wouldn’t be caught out the same way again. Mr. Stains gave his evidence with a kinder manner. It added little to the picture. It bored Jemima. Hillyer was wasting time, as Daniel said. Why? What was he waiting for?
* * *
—
LUNCHEON WAS AGONY. It was unavoidable that Jemima and Patrick should accept Tobias Thorwood’s invitation to dine with them. A table had already been reserved at a very nice restaurant not far away, and the meal requested in advance so they would not have to wait for service.
Jemima dreaded it.
“We have to,” Patrick murmured when they had a moment alone, the Thorwoods, united outside the courtroom, having gone ahead. “For heaven’s sake, say as little as you can without being rude. No opinion, please, Jem?”
“I promise. Really!” She meant it far more than he might believe. She was aware of just how deeply she loved him by how much this whole case hurt. She did not want even to question him, let alone consider that he might be wrong about Sidney. Or if he was absolutely right, that he had engineered the evidence so the assault would emerge, even though Sidney might not actually have embezzled anything. It wouldn’t matter. If he couldn’t be tried for the assault, let alone convicted, it would still ruin him. There would be nothing left for him in England. No employment. No friends. No acceptance anywhere. Society would punish him indirectly for what it could not get the law to exact. There would be no reprieve. No payment, therefore no freedom from the debt, ever.
Was that really what Patrick wanted? Was there something bigger that she did not know about? Could she ask him, so it would not lie between them any longer?
Not now. They were walking out of the courthouse and into the street. There were five of them. Two motorcars were waiting by the curb.
Jemima sat beside Patrick. Three times she started to ask him just what he knew, then lost the nerve to continue. She could not find the right words. It all sounded accusing. How do you ask someone you love every day, every night, whose triumphs, dreams, and losses you share, if he is framing a man for a crime he did not commit?
They arrived at the hotel and were taken straight to the dining room. It was decorated in a comfortable, time-dulled sort of Persian red, deep and rich. The furniture was heavy, carved oak, and looked as if it hadn’t been moved since it was first put there, perhaps a century ago. The linen was all crisp white, the crystal sparkling, the staff plentiful to attend to every wish. Bottles of white wine nestled in buckets of ice, and a bottle of red wine stood open on the next table, to breathe.
The meal began immediately. It was delicious, served on the best porcelain. At another time, Jemima would have relished it. Now she was hardly even aware of its taste.
“I don’t know what he is driving at,” Bernadette said suddenly, putting her napkin down completely. She seemed to be speaking to Tobias. “What is he achieving? What’s he waiting for? These people are boring the jury as much as they’re boring the rest of us. I suppose he’s building the tension, so that Sir John will be a complete contrast, and they will remember everything he says.”
Jemima thought that made excellent sense, but she did not want to join the conversation. Bernadette must be referring to Sir John Armitage.
Tobias looked slightly surprised. “Is he up this afternoon? I didn’t know that. I’m sure he didn’t mention it when I saw him this morning.” That sounded like an accusation.
“I daresay he thought you already knew,” Bernadette dismissed the oversight.
“Will they ask him why he got Mr. Sidney out of America, so he didn’t have to face charges for breaking into our house?” Rebecca asked suddenly. She had been pushing her food around the plate in a pretense of eating. Now she stopped altogether.
