Betina Krahn (61 page)

The dignified Kingston Gray rose to make his opening argument, and a hush fell over the gallery. The Earl of Landon had only dared to express what virtually every bachelor on the face of the earth had felt at one time or other, to one extent or another—that marriage was an inequitable and archaic institution, which should not be permitted to tyrannize the lives of both men and women any longer. People ought to have choices besides marriage, he believed. And he had written and spoken his opinions in a decent, orderly, and scholarly manner that had harmed no one. In due time the facts would exonerate his client.

Opening the testimony, the prosecutor called a series of witnesses dealing with the publication of Remington’s various articles on marriage. Large sections of his clear, pungent articles from the
Spectator
, the
New Statesman
, and
Blackwood’s Magazine
were read in the court, establishing the fact that he advised the unmarried to stay unmarried and those married to live as if they were not married: men and women each responsible for themselves, at least with regard to work and financial support. Next, the prosecutor presented two renowned social theorists who were asked to give their assessment of what would happen to society if people were to take seriously Lord Carr’s dangerous advice.

As expected, they declared that a chaotic and dangerous situation would result: unstable marriages, difficulties
between men and women, children abandoned to the streets, immorality and sloth, and the eventual collapse of the society as it was currently known. It was damaging testimony from well-credentialed and creditable witnesses.

When it was time for cross-examination, the distinguished Kingston Gray rose, grasped the lapels of his robe, and demanded to know of these learned witnesses whether they knew of any other such advice on marriage, from any other source. Each denied knowing of any creditable thinker who had dared attack marriage in such a heinous and shortsighted manner. Kingston Gray smiled and handed the second witness, an Oxford professor, a book, asking him to read a marked passage.

There was a murmur through the court as the antique-sounding words were read, falling with familiarity on the more educated ear. Kingston Gray asked the professor if he was familiar with the passage, and the gentleman swallowed hard and reddened, saying that he couldn’t recall … he might have heard it somewhere before.

“Does not this writer advocate that those who are unmarried stay that way?”

“Well, yes—”

“And does not this writer go on to advocate that married persons should behave as if they are unmarried?”

“Yes, I suppose, but—”

“Would you look at the title of that book, sir, and tell
the court just what radical and dangerous text it is that exhorts people to such godless and antisocial behavior.”

The professor looked at the title, turned scarlet, and fairly choked on the words.

“The Holy Bible.”

Volleys of laughter, murmurs, and gasps of outrage burst forth from the gallery, as Kingston Gray retrieved his book and raised his voice to address the court in booming tones. “A most radical and dangerous bit of advice from that most radical and seditious thinker, St. Paul the Evangelist. I submit to the court that his book was written nearly two thousand years ago … and these words have been read and discussed countless times over the intervening centuries … without crumbling the foundations of our civilization or making the slightest inroad against what St. Paul deemed the ‘necessary evil’ of marriage. Ideas, my learned justices, are powerful things. But only if people take them to heart and put them into action. There is no proof that my client’s, ideas—however shocking—have damaged society or its members in the least.”

There was another outbreak of reaction in the gallery: cheers and boos and generally rowdy approval for Kingston Gray’s clever gambit. As the prosecutors huddled in conference and the justices conferred among themselves, the bailiffs moved to restore order in the gallery.

When things quieted, Antonia found herself growing tense with expectation and dread. The second half of the prosecutors’ case revolved around the testimony of the five men who had accused him of wrecking their marriages. They were not present in the courtroom, but then neither had been the “expert” witnesses just called.

As the delay progressed, there seemed to be some consternation on the part of the prosecutors, who begged the court for a recess in order to confer with their next witnesses.
Seeing that it was approaching one o’clock, the justices agreed to their request and went them one better, adjourning court for midday recess.

Antonia wilted with relief. She looked down the bench to her Bentick brides and lifted crossed fingers that they understood full well. She cast Remington a wistful look across the way as he was being swept away by his solicitors. Then she went with her ladies to eat at a restaurant, though—in truth—the only thing she hungered for was a few short, sweet words with Remington.

After midday recess, the crier announced the justices, the court convened, and the prosecutor called his first witness of the afternoon.

“Lord Carter Woolworth, present yourself to the court and be sworn in.”

Antonia tensed. She had been expecting this. As the seconds labored by, she watched the doors below … and nearly fainted when one opened and Carter Woolworth stepped inside!

Steadying herself with a grip on Aunt Hermione’s arm, she leaned forward to look down the bench at Elizabeth Woolworth. The young woman’s face was pale and her eyes were dark with distress as she met Antonia’s gaze. Then together they watched him take the witness box and swear to tell the truth. Antonia felt her stomach sink and closed her eyes.

Carter Woolworth glanced up nervously at the gallery and smiled at his blanched wife. And he proceeded to answer the prosecutor’s questions about his association with the Earl of Landon.

“We were at school together, some years ago. Harrow. We went on to Oxford together but hadn’t seen each other for some time, until of late.”

“Let me ask you, your lordship, to recall the events of the night of June seventeenth. Were you or were you not on the street outside your club, White’s, on St. James Street between nine-thirty and ten o’clock?”

“Was I?” Woolworth looked a bit taken aback. “Well, if you say so, sir …”

“No,
I
do not say so.” The prosecutor struck a determined pose. “
You
must say so. Were you or were you not there, sir?”

“Truly, I … cannot recall. I usually have a few drinks at my club. Or more than a few. A fellow loses count … along with a few other faculties.” He tossed a grin toward the gallery, and laughter broke out.

The prosecutor glared at the young lord and tried a different tack. “I submit to you that you may have been on that street at that hour … and involved in an altercation with the earl.…” Kingston Gray objected and was upheld. The prosecutor decided upon a more direct approach.

“Have you or have you not accused Remington Carr of destroying your marriage?”

Woolworth’s amicable facade dropped like a wet curtain. “My marriage, sir, is quite healthy. Why on earth should I accuse a friend and a gentleman of destroying it?”

“Is it not true, my lord, that you and your wife are currently separated?”

“Ye gods—you see how these cursed rumors circulate.” Woolworth grew quite indignant. “My wife is currently visiting a lady friend whose aunt is seriously ill. She has taken time out to come to court to support my testimony.” He pointed to the gallery. “There she is. My wife, Elizabeth.”

As the barristers and justices raised eyes to the gallery, Elizabeth could do nothing but smile weakly, redden, and
nod. The prosecutor was vexed in the extreme. “Have you or have you not discussed the problems of your marriage with the earl?”

“I have. Though I believe to call the normal and usual adjustments of a bachelor to wedded life ‘problems’ might be painting it a bit thick. The earl initiated certain questions and discussions on the subject … during which I was pleased to impart to him whatever wisdom I had gained on the subject of matrimony.”

Antonia’s jaw dropped, and she leaned forward to glance at Elizabeth, whose eyes were wide and shocked. Wisdom? He had tutored the earl on matrimony?

“You expect the court to believe you tutored the Earl of Landon on marriage?” The prosecutor’s face was crimson and the veins in his temples were throbbing visibly.

“I cannot answer for what the court believes, sir. I only know that I have spoken at length with the earl, giving him my views of matrimony. You see, I was—how shall I say it?—a reluctant bridegroom. I had been a bachelor until my thirtieth year and feared the adjustment to family life.” He fixed his gaze upon Elizabeth, in the gallery, and his face softened with a smile.

“But I needn’t have feared. My wife is a wise and understanding woman, who has helped me to learn that most primary of lessons: that a man must leave his father and
mother
and cleave only to his wife, as scripture teaches.” Elizabeth slid to the edge of her seat and gripped the railing before her, watching him declare to her—before God and the government of Britain—that which she most longed to hear.

“A man and his wife become one flesh, it is said, and together they must make their fortune and their way through the ups and downs of life. Thus, the love and affection of a wife supplants those other loves and loyalties
in a man’s heart. And in time that love grows and that union bears the sweet fruit of family life. Especially when a woman is as loving and gracious as my dear Elizabeth.”

There were tears in Elizabeth’s eyes as Gray declined to cross-examine and Woolworth was excused from the witness box. She rose and went to meet him at the far aisle. They stood for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes; then he offered her his arm and she let him lead her out.

Antonia watched them threading their way through the crowd and felt her heart give a single heavy thud, then race a moment later to make up for lost beats. She had little time to think about what it all meant, for when she turned back, she heard the bailiff calling the next witness. “Sir Albert Everstone …”

Forewarned by Woolworth’s testimony, the prosecutor took a stern approach right from the start with Sir Albert. But Everstone also had difficulty recalling the events of the night in question. And no matter how the prosecutor phrased it or belabored it, he could not seem to recall more than having a few drinks with his old school chums, Landon included. Then came the questions about the rocky state of his marriage.

“A scurrilous lie, sir,” Everstone blustered, looking ready to throw down the gauntlet. “Why, my wife and me are the very picture of wedded bliss.”

“How can that be, sir, when you are separated from her?” the prosecutor challenged him.

“Who dares make such a scandalous charge, sir? and on what grounds? My wife is visiting a friend … the lady, in fact, that stood up with her at our wedding. And she has returned recently to attend this court today. There she sits”—he pointed to the blushing Margaret—“in the gallery
now. My dear wife. I’ll take exception with any man who casts aspersion upon my marriage, sir!”

“Did not the Earl of Landon interfere in your marriage by speaking out against the restrictions of married life and trying to persuade you to leave your wife?”

“He never did, sir! And I’ll take any man to task who says he did. Landon is a decent chap and a good friend. We did discuss marriage, on numerous occasions. And I was pleased to give him the benefit of my experience.” He paused and shifted his gaze to Margaret, in the gallery. His gruffness muted, while the urgency of his manner intensified. Margaret leaned forward to meet his gaze and clasped her hands, pressing them to her lips.

“You see, I too went into harness a bit laggardly,” Everstone explained, drawing sympathetic male laughter from the spectators. “I’m known for being a bit close with a coin, and I will say that I feared marriage would be a most costly undertaking. Was quite right about that, sir … costly it is. Requires all a man has got. But I had not reckoned with the yield I would gain on that investment.”

“Which is?” the prosecutor demanded, following the line of Everstone’s gaze to the gallery. The sight of Margaret’s face, filled with heartfelt emotion, infuriated him.

“The profit is … all a woman has inside her. As the good book says: ‘Who can put a price on a virtuous woman? Her price is far above rubies.’ And my Margaret is the pearl without price.” His stern expression melted into a tentative smile as he saw Margaret smile lovingly at him. “Told Landon all that when he asked. I said a man is meant to give his wife worldly goods, to share all he has with her. Teaches a fellow generosity and largeness of heart. It’s easy to give to a woman like my Margaret … who gives a lot back.”

Recognizing the futility of his efforts, the prosecutor yielded to the defense, who had no questions. The justices dismissed Everstone, and the prosecutor asked for a moment to confer with his associates. While they were in conference, Everstone walked up the side aisle to the row where Margaret sat, and extended his hand.

Margaret rose with tears in her eyes and joined him, placing her hand in his and proudly walking out with him.

Antonia watched in confusion. Good Lord—the things they were saying! They had taught Remington about cleaving to their wives and sharing their worldly possessions? It was absurd … preposterous.…

She turned to stare at Remington and found him looking at her with a subtle twinkle in his eye. That knowing glint said that he was somehow responsible for their unexpected testimony—if it could rightly be called “testimony.” It was more like a shameless and irresistible bit of wooing, done at great risk, in front of an entire courtroom. By testifying as they had, Woolworth and Everstone had both proclaimed their own willingness to change and addressed openly the problems that lay at the heart of their marriages. And in so doing they had reclaimed their wives.