“If I am to be able to defend you, I need to know exactly what happened last night, Lady Rainsborough.”
Clare could feel the pressure again. “I don’t think I can remember, Mr. More.”
“Why don’t we start earlier in the evening, then. You attended the Petersham ball?”
Clare nodded.
“With your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Had you quarreled or had any disagreement earlier that day?”
“No ... not really.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, Giles had called on me that afternoon. But I sent him away,” Clare hastened to add. “Justin met him as he was leaving and was ... upset.”
“Upset?”
“Justin sometimes is ... was jealous if I pay any attention to other men.”
“And did you?”
“Did I what?” asked Clare with a puzzled look on her face.
“Pay attention to other men. Or more specifically, to Giles?”
Clare was taken aback by More’s tone. It sounded almost hostile and reminded her of Justin. “Sometimes I smiled and laughed with someone. But that is all. And I purposely didn’t see Giles that afternoon.”
“But your husband was jealous. And you are saying there was no basis for it?” Andrew’s voice was gentler. She was confessing to a smile or laugh as though it were adultery. Just what had Rainsborough done to her, he wondered.
“Justin was a doting husband. He didn’t like it when anyone spent much time with me. Or if it looked like I was enjoying another man’s company. He was especially sensitive about Giles. Because we were almost betrothed before I met Justin.”
“Yes, I remember. So, you sent Giles away and then you and your husband quarreled.”
“No,” said Clare, shaking her head. “Justin apologized for his suspicions. And I reminded him”—Clare frowned as she began to remember—”I reminded him that he had been planning to visit with Dr. Shipton.”
“Dr. Shipton?”
Clare lowered her eyes. “The doctor has had some success in helping people reduce their dependence on laudanum. Justin thought he would see if he could help him overcome a certain dependence on spirits.”
“Lord Rainsborough drank too much?”
“Not all the time. He could abstain for weeks at a time. But when he did drink, then ...” Clare folded her hands across her stomach.
“When he drank?”
“That was when he would get jealous. Accuse me of terrible things ...” Her voice trailed off.
“Hit you?”
She nodded. “I was so hopeful when he first mentioned Dr. Shipton.”
“I understand. You loved your husband, Lady Rainsborough?”
Clare’s eyes filled with tears. “I loved him very much. Once.” The last word was almost inaudible, and Andrew almost missed it.
“Once?”
“I don’t know if I still loved him. You see, it was almost like living with two husbands: the Justin who loved me, and the Justin who beat me. At first it was the Justin who loved me that I lived with most of the time. But lately ...”
“For how long?”
“For at least a year I have wondered if I have been going mad. If I could trust my own perceptions. Because the time he was not drinking became shorter and shorter. I was having a hard time remembering the Justin whom I had loved.” Clare paused and then continued slowly and painfully. “But then he would be there again, for a short time, and of course, I still loved him.”
“Let us go back to yesterday, Lady Rainsborough,” said Andrew as he watched Clare twisting her hands together harder and harder. “You were in harmony with one another by the time you left?”
Clare nodded.
“Did anything happen at the ball?”
“Justin and I danced. Then he went into the card room. I saw him with a glass of champagne, but I was hoping he would have only one. It was all my fault,” she said in an agonized whisper.
“What was?” Andrew asked gently. What could she possibly have done to merit such a beating?
“Giles asked if he could see me alone. I let him convince me to be private with him. I thought Justin was playing cards. I thought we would be out of there ... that he wouldn’t see us.”
“And what did Giles have to say to you?”
“That my father had asked him to speak with me. That my family and friends were concerned about my health.”
“And did you tell him about your ... troubles?”
“Oh, God, of course not,” said Clare vehemently. “I have told no one. What could anyone do, especially Giles?"
“Perhaps someone could have challenged Lord Rainsborough with his behavior?”
At the word challenge, Clare put her hand to her forehead.
“Are you in pain, Lady Rainsborough?”
“No. Yes. It is just that I can’t let it through ...”
Andrew reached out for her other hand and held it loosely in his own. “How do you know that your husband saw the two of you?”
“He made me leave early. He made his usual accusations.”
“Which you denied?”
Clare pulled her hand from Andrew’s and laughed mirthlessly. “I have always denied them. As quietly and calmly as I could. I never let myself be drawn into a quarrel. The few times in the beginning when I did, it only made things worse.” She continued in a level voice that sounded to Andrew as though she were somewhere else. “Sometimes, if you are quiet enough, he will stop.”
“Stop what, Lady Rainsborough,” Andrew asked very quietly.
“Stop hitting you. Or kicking you.”
“Did he hit you last night?”
The river was swelling, swirling, pushing against her brain. The lock wouldn’t, couldn’t possibly hold it. Clare moaned. Oh, God, the water was rushing over, and she was being carried along with it.
“Did he hit you last night, Lady Rainsborough?” Andrew kept his voice as soft and even and expressionless as possible.
“Yes, yes. I kept
telling
him nothing had happened. I promised him I would never see Giles again. He said if I promised, he wouldn’t challenge him.”
“How did he hit you?”
“Oh, as usual,” Clare said with a tired smile. “My face. He banged my head against the mantel.”
“Did he kick you?”
“Oh, yes,” Clare said, almost matter-of-factly. “That usually ended it. But something had changed these past few weeks. He ...”
“Yes?”
“He had started choking me. I thought he was going to kill me this time. And he took out his pistols. I did what he asked: I admitted we were lovers, I said I would never see Giles again. I would have said anything to keep him from challenging Giles. But then, he said he was going to kill me anyway.”
“But you said there was nothing between you and Giles?” Andrew kept his voice innocently puzzled.
“Don’t you understand?” said Clare, suddenly standing up. “Don’t you understand? He said he would challenge Giles. He would have killed him. Giles, who had never done anything but try to help me. Who loved me. Who was my dearest friend. I would have said anything. I would have admitted to anything to prevent that. Justin promised that if I admitted to it, that this would never happen again.”
“What?”
“The beating. But he tricked me. He put his pistol to my head ... and I...” Clare was backing away from Andrew, not seeing him, seeing Justin. “I hit him with the candlestick from the desk.”
“Didn’t that stop him?”
“He started to get up,” said Clare, looking down as though she again saw her husband. “He was getting up, and I remembered the pistol, and I walked right into his arms, and I shot him.”
Clare was shaking violently from head to foot, and Andrew started to approach her slowly.
“
Don
’
t you come near me,
”
she said. He stopped. “He moved. His arm moved, so I picked up the other pistol and put it to his head. But then I was so afraid he wasn’t dead, that he would kill me and then Giles after all ...” She took a long, deep, shuddering breath and then said calmly, almost like a child who has been comforted after a nightmare: “But Sabrina told me that he
is
dead.”
“Lord Rainsborough is indeed dead, Lady Rainsborough,” said Andrew reassuringly.
Clare stood there, and her body gradually became still. She lifted her eyes to Andrew. “Then I killed my husband, didn’t I, Mr. More?”
“I am afraid so, Lady Rainsborough.”
* * * *
Sabrina had gone down to the library, hoping to find something to read that would keep her mind off Clare, but she had forgotten that the library was off-limits for anyone but the Runners, and so she settled herself in the morning room. That was where Andrew found her, pacing back and forth, unable to settle for a minute.
“Sabrina.”
She turned, and Andrew could see from the expression on her face that she was still angry with him.
“How is she? I hope you have not upset her too much? I will go right up to her.”
Andrew caught her arm just as she was about to rush past. “Lady Rainsborough needs her rest, Sabrina. And some time alone.”
Sabrina tried to shrug his hand off her arm. “Let go of me, Andrew. She needs a friend near her.”
“Soon, I agree, but not this moment. I believe she needs to absorb what happened to her.”
“Does she remember, then?” Sabrina asked, giving in and letting Andrew lead her over to the sofa.
“Yes, I am afraid she does.”
“What do you mean ‘afraid,’ Andrew?”
“Had she continued in a state of shock, the amnesia coupled with her rank might have given me a chance to declare her incompetent to testify. I could have brought witnesses forward who would attest to her physical condition and made the argument that she was out of her mind with terror and didn’t really know what she was doing. But now ...”
“But now?” Sabrina repeated.
“She is competent enough to take the stand. And she does remember everything.”
“But surely Justin
had
terrorized her? Surely she was only defending herself.”
“Oh, I believe that. The question is, can I get a coroner’s jury to believe it. She killed her husband, and she did it knowingly. She could have stopped with the blow to his head. But she shot him twice with his own pistols.”
“She was still terrified when I got here, Andrew. Afraid that he was still alive. Surely that shows that she was beside herself with fear? And her face and throat ... the bruises.”
“Yes, well, they will be almost gone by the time of the inquest. We will have to rely on eyewitnesses. The butler ... her abigail.”
“Myself,” said Sabrina matter-of-factly.
“Surely you wouldn’t want the notoriety? Sabrina.”
“Surely I wouldn’t want my good friend convicted of murder!”
Andrew smiled warmly at her, and Sabrina felt a stirring of pleasure at his approval. His brown eyes could change so quickly, from being intent and concentrated to softening with affection. Nonsense, she chided herself. He had no affection for her. Why should he? He hardly knew her. And he had treated her more high-handedly than anyone but Giles dared to!
“I don’t think there will be any need for that. I hope there will not. Or for Giles.”
“Giles?”
“Yes. He could confirm her story that she turned him away from an afternoon visit. And that the only reason he sought her out at the ball was to inquire after her health.”
“Surely, no one would believe anything else?”
“Her husband did. And there are people who would sympathize with a jealous husband over a protesting wife.”
“But we have hardly seen Clare these last two years.”
“I know. And that will count for something. But the law is on Justin Rainsborough’s side.”
“The law allows a husband to murder his wife!” Sabrina said furiously.
“No, of course not. But the prosecuting counselor can make the argument that her life was not truly in danger.”
Sabrina sat quietly for a moment. “Do you think you can win, Andrew?”
“I am going to do my damnedest!” he said with the quirky grin that gave him a gypsy look.
Giles had never felt so helpless. He wanted nothing more than to be with Clare. She needed him, now more than ever. Who else could give her the courage to face what was before her? And all because of Andrew’s ridiculous precautions, he was being kept away.
Giles had been so sure these past two years that his love for Clare had changed. Recently, he had seriously been considering marrying Lucy Kirkman. She was attractive, an enjoyable companion, and would have made him an undemanding wife. She wanted him, and he knew their marriage would also have been physically satisfying. And he needed an heir.
Now the very idea seemed ridiculous. He had been lying to himself all along. Well, perhaps not lying. Perhaps he could have married Lucy and been happy, had Clare truly been in the marriage he supposed her to have. But to find out that Rainsborough had been abusing her. That she had had to bear it all alone. All the old feeling came rushing back. Clare was his love, the one and only one he had ever wanted to enfold in his arms and keep safe. And for now, the only way to keep her safe, according to Andrew, was to stay away from her. He didn’t know if he could bear the frustration.
* * * *
When Andrew finally called, Giles was so eager to hear his report that he quite forgot himself as a host. After they sat down in the library, and Andrew looked over at his friend and said, with a quizzical smile, “Aren’t you going to offer me anything to drink, Giles? Tea? Sherry, Andrew?’ ” He mimicked Giles’s even tones perfectly.
“I apologize. I have been beside myself. Tea? Sherry, Andrew?” he repeated with a smile.
“Sherry would be perfect, Giles.”
Giles rang and had the footman bring them a decanter and a plate of biscuits.
Andrew sipped the sherry slowly and appreciatively. It had been a hard afternoon. He had had some grim cases in the past, but nothing that had turned his stomach like this one. He was not completely against an occasional blow.
He
wasn’t the sort who would ever do it, but he could understand how a man might be driven to it by a certain kind of woman. It seemed to be human nature that the strong sometimes hurt the weak: parents beat their children, masters their servants. He didn’t like it, he didn’t approve of it, he wouldn’t do it, but if it was kept within bounds, he was able to live with it. After all, people paid good money to watch professional pugilists go at it for hours. It wasn’t
his
cup of tea, but there it was.