“I am sorry, Sabrina. If you do that, I may just lose my nerve. It was ... well, not good, exactly, but necessary to tell someone. Mr. More was right. It will have to be made public. I thank you for listening. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
“No, no it wasn’t.”
“I suppose you are wondering: why didn’t she tell someone? Why didn’t she leave? How could she have made love to him again and again after what he did to her?” Clare asked.
“Why, no,” Sabrina stammered.
“You never were a good liar, Sabrina. I find it difficult to explain myself. You see, when Justin was himself, he was the wonderful man I fell in love with. He truly was tender and loving and passionate. It was so easy to believe that the other Justin wouldn’t come back. Not
this
time. Not after his promises and tears and apologies. It is almost like living in a madhouse, I suppose.” Clare paused. “You are also probably thinking: “If only she’d married Giles.”
“I confess I have thought that over the past few days,” Sabrina admitted.
“It is only natural. I suppose I should have. But I only loved Giles as a friend. A dear friend,” Clare hastened to add. “Justin wakened a part of me that I hadn’t known existed. Of course,” she added bitterly, “he awakened it only to torture me for it. Anyway, Giles deserves someone who loves him the way I loved my husband.”
“Yes, he does,” agreed Sabrina. “And I don’t think it is Lucy Kirkman.”
“Lucy is very good at getting what she wants, Sabrina. But I am sure Giles knows that,” Clare added with a smile.
“He does,” said Sabrina, throwing her hands up in mock despair.
Clare sat for a moment and then turning to Sabrina, said quietly: “I think I will have Mr. More come back tomorrow morning, Sabrina. I will tell him the whole story and agree to repeat it at the inquest. Thank you for your help. And I think I will be all right alone from now on.” She laughed. “Hardly alone, I suppose, with a Runner in the house.”
Sabrina protested, but Clare was adamant. “I would love to see you after Mr. More leaves, Sabrina, but you must not neglect your life just to be with me. You mustn’t miss another engagement.”
“All right, Clare. But I will be over tomorrow after my ride, I promise.”
Time had never gone so slowly for Giles as the last few days. All he wanted was to be with Clare, to put his arms around her, to let her cry out all her grief and fear on his shoulder. All he got was quick visits with Sabrina and Andrew, who kept telling him that Clare was doing very well. So when Sabrina returned, obviously planning to stay, he pulled her into the morning room and insisted she sit down and give him a full report.
“You aren’t abandoning Clare, are you?” he protested.
“Clare was very sure that she was ready to be alone, Giles,” answered his sister, “or else I wouldn’t have left. She wants me back in circulation, and she is probably right. I intend to go to the Maxwells’ tonight. What about you?”
“I haven’t gone out since this happened, Sabrina.”
“I know, Giles. And that means that the gossips are having a fine time with Clare’s story. And, no doubt, working you into it as well.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Andrew’s advice was to stay away from Clare. He didn’t add anything else to his instructions,” Giles added sarcastically.
“Andrew More can be a most annoying man, I admit, but I think we can trust him to take Clare through this safely. I finally gave in to his advice today, and found his counsel wiser than I thought.”
Giles looked over at her questioningly.
“He believes that Clare must tell the whole story of her marriage in order to convince the jury of her innocence. I didn’t want him to make her dredge it all up.”
“Indeed, she shouldn’t have to,” protested Giles. “She’s gone through enough.”
“He pointed out that Rainsborough’s behavior could have been seen as a result of some provocation. Given the law, well, Clare needs to convince the coroner and the jury that she truly was in danger ... I listened to her whole story, Giles,” said Sabrina, her voice strained.
“Tell me all, Brina.”
“I can’t Giles. It is Clare’s story to tell, not mine. But it was horrible to listen to what she went through these past two years.”
“Oh, God, if only she’d never met him. If only I hadn’t waited so long to ask her to marry me.”
“Oh, Giles, it had nothing to do with you. Clare loved Rainsborough in a way she didn’t love you, although I know this is painful to hear.”
“I still love her, you know,” said Giles softly. “The more fool I.”
“Oh, Giles, I know,” said his sister, reaching out her hand and clasping his. “And it can never be foolish to love someone, can it? Not that I would know,” she added humorously.
“You
have
kept your heart whole, haven’t you, Brina?There has been no one whom you have wanted to share it with, has there?”
“No, Giles. Perhaps it is because I have had you. There is such sympathy and understanding between us that I have not really felt the lack of a man in my life. I’ve had my twin,” she added with an appreciative smile.
Giles leaned over and gave her a quick hug. “We are lucky. But you need more than a brother, Sabrina.”
“No doubt I will settle for someone one of these days,” she said lightly. “Now, I am going up for a rest before I take on society for Clare. You will come with me to the ball tonight?”
“Yes, my dear,” said Giles with a smile. “I will escort you into battle.”
Indeed, Sabrina had a very militant look in her eye when they arrived at the Maxwell ball. She sought out her closest friends who were full of questions, but reluctant to ask them. Except, of course, Lucy Kirkman.
“Is it true, Sabrina, that Clare is under a sort of house arrest? The rumors are flying so thick and fast that it is hard to tell what is the truth.”
Lady Julia Willeford exclaimed: “Lucy!” in horror at her frankness.
“Oh, Julia, don’t pretend you weren’t dying to ask. Come, Sabrina, tell us all you know.”
“Lucy, you are incorrigible.” Sabrina laughed. “Clare is, in fact, confined to her house, but as much to recover from her ordeal as anything else.”
“Did she kill Lord Rainsborough, Sabrina?” asked Lucy. “I have heard so many different versions: that she mistook him for an intruder, that she brained him with a poker, and that she shot him with his own dueling pistols.”
Lady Julia blanched. “Lucy, if you go on like this, I am going to become ill.”
“Go right ahead, dear Julia,” replied Lucy. “You have heard all the same gossip I have, my dear, and seem to have survived it up until now. The most disturbing rumor, of course, is that Clare and Giles were lovers and provoked Rainsborough into a killing rage.”
Lucy said this last as lightly as she had repeated the other rumors, but Sabrina knew that this was the one she had been leading up to, the question she really wanted answered. She was surprised that she actually felt sorry for Lucy. Sabrina knew Giles would never marry her now, although Lucy would not realize that yet.
“Evidently Justin Rainsborough was an unreasonably, perhaps one could say an insanely jealous husband,” Sabrina replied. “He accused Clare of many things during their marriage, none of which were true. And Giles has hardly had time to spare these last few months, Lucy. After all, he has spent much of his time with you.”
“Of course,” said Lucy, sounding complacent, but Sabrina could sense her relief. “And one could hardly suspect little Clare of infidelity anyway, could one?”
Sabrina spent a few more minutes convincing her friends that when the truth emerged at the inquest, Clare would be completely vindicated. They were so pleased to be the first to hear the “real” story that she knew she could count on them to start a counter-wave of gossip.
She danced several dances with her usual favorites. During her country-dance with her host, she was surprised to see Andrew More standing on the sidelines, conversing with Giles and his older brother, Lord Avery. She asked Maxwell to lead her over to them after the music stopped.
“Good evening, Lady Sabrina,” said Lord Avery. He was a taller, slightly more refined-looking version of Andrew and someone Sabrina had never liked very much. She might find Andrew More annoying, but he was at least a stimulating companion. His brother was too concerned with the family name and his own importance for Sabrina’s liking.
“Good evening, my lord. Good evening, Andrew. I am surprised to see you here. I thought you might be working long hours to prepare for your case.”
“I have been working very closely with my solicitor, Sabrina, but you know the old saying: ‘All work and no play,’ ” replied Andrew insouciantly.
“I was just speaking with Andrew about that,” said Lord Avery. “I cannot like him being involved in such a case.”
“You and the family are always after me to find a better class of client, Jonathan. I had thought you would be pleased,” said Andrew with mock innocence.
“We hardly meant for you to take on a murder case, whether the murderess is a countess or not.”
“I know. You’d rather I spent my time sorting out disputed family settlements.”
“It is, for the son of an earl, certainly preferable to defending common criminals.”
“Lady Rainsborough can hardly be called a
common
criminal, Jonathan.”
“Of course not,” his brother admitted. “But to be involved even peripherally with this scandal is very distressing to me.”
“I assure you, Jonathan, it is far more distressing for Clare,” said Andrew sarcastically.
“Of course, of course. But I still wish you weren’t involved.”
Andrew turned away from his brother to Sabrina, raising his eyebrows in a way that expressed all his amused frustration with his brother’s attitude. She had to lift her fan to her face to hide her smile.
“Do you by any chance have a waltz free tonight, Sabrina?” he asked.
Sabrina examined her dance card carefully. Giles was her partner for the next waltz, but she was sure her brother would not mind if she danced with his friend. She glanced over at Giles with the question in her eyes, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. It was something they both took for granted now, their ability to communicate without words, and Sabrina wondered if she would ever find anyone with whom she could have as natural an intimacy as with her twin.
“I have the next waltz free, Andrew.”
“And they are about to strike it up,” said Andrew with a smile. “Come, let us not lose a minute of it.”
* * * *
Sabrina had danced with Andrew More upon many occasions over the years, and she remembered him as an average dancer. This evening, however, was different. She felt she had never been so at one with the music or the man who partnered her. They didn’t speak much. It was as though they were both caught up in another dimension, one where every small movement of his hand around her waist and her fingers in his became a source of pleasure. Sabrina realized that every cell in her body was aware of Andrew in a most disturbing but also intriguing way.
When the music stopped, they both felt they had been dropped back into everyday consciousness and were suddenly embarrassed and ill at ease. Andrew escorted Sabrina back to her brother and muttering his apologies for leaving early, left almost immediately, without even an attempt at polite conversation.
And when Sabrina glanced over to Giles, hoping for that instant understanding, he merely looked at her questioningly as if to say: “Yes, Sabrina, is there something that is bothering you?” She felt very empty and bereft, and for one odd moment realized it was the lovely oneness with Andrew she was missing and not the lack of communication with Giles. But that was ridiculous, she immediately told herself. Andrew More had nothing in common with her brother or herself. Except for his defense of Clare.
* * * *
The morning of the inquest arrived all too quickly for those most concerned and not at all too soon for those of all classes who hoped to watch that very rare thing: the possibility of a peeress being charged with murder.
It had been unseasonably warm and humid the past two days and when Clare awoke, she felt like the weather matched her mood: heavy, oppressive, and energyless. The smells of London, which usually blew by one, hung heavy in the nostrils, but it was too hot to close her bedroom windows.
She had to wear black, of course, which made it even worse, for the only black dress she owned was of a heavy twilled silk. Andrew had insisted, though. “You must appear in mourning, if for nothing else than the happy, early days of your marriage.”
She tried to eat, for Andrew had also recommended a good breakfast, but was only able to force down a half a cup of tea and one triangle of toast. She waited quietly in the drawing room until the hired chaise arrived to take her and the assigned Runner to the inquest.
She had originally planned to use her own carriage, but Andrew just looked at her and said kindly: “Lady Rainsborough, the streets will be full of those who wish to catch a glimpse of you. You could even be in some danger, if the crowd becomes a mob.”
Indeed, when the Runner came to greet her, he took her out the back door. “There is too much of a crowd around front, my lady,” he explained. He handed her into the chaise and climbed in quickly afterward, banging on the roof to signal the driver on.
The shades of the chaise were drawn, and Clare could feel her dress begin to stick to her back. She made a nervous comment about the heat, but the Runner only nodded and then ignored her, so the long ride through the crowded streets was a silent one.
She could tell when they were close because she could hear people shouting. Some were hawking tickets to the gallery. Others were promising that they had the true, authentic story of this horrible crime for only a penny a sheet.
When the carriage finally stopped, a hush fell over the crowd. The Runner was out first, and as Clare appeared in the door of the chaise, the crowd went wild. “There she is, there’s the Murdering Peeress.” “Nah, it can’t be ‘er. She’s too little to ‘ave killed ‘er ‘usband.”
Clare was frozen. The Runner was in front of her but behind him was a gauntlet of Londoners, eager to see her, to touch her, perhaps even to attack her. How could she step down into that sea of humanity? How could she go through with this inquiry at all? She had killed Justin. She should just admit it and let them hang her.