The 7:45 express pulled into Knapford Station. The sleek blue LNER A3 whistled loudly and let out steam on the platform. Scores of people were let out of the coaches by a worn porter.
"Where is she?" muttered Edward. He pushed back his glasses on a pair of sharp ocean-blue eyes. He checked his pocketwatch and looked at the First Class coach.
Sure enough, his client stepped out of the coach and onto the platform. She wore an emerald green dress and had her hair tied back into a ponytail. A golden headband was laced through her auburn hair.
"Ms. Stirling," he greeted, "You look lovely today. I trust that you are feeling better."
She was quick to respond, "Edward, you can cut the formalities. We both know what happened and it's time to face the cold hard facts."
Edward was stunned, but nonetheless opened the door to his car. A sleek Jaguar bought by a family friend. He shut the door and climbed into the driver's seat, moving his briefcase into the backseat.
"Off to the courthouse," he said as he pressed his foot onto the gas pedal.
The affair was a huge public scandal, so it was best to get to a smaller town away from the paparazzi and publicity. Elsbridge's Blair Courthouse was the location chosen. It was a small building built by the Ancient Celts and renovated multiple times in its long life. It lay on a sheltered hill with small stone roads leading up to it.
Edward took notice of the crowds that had already gathered at the building and he quietly swore to himself, "Well, the press is here. Anything you want to say to your fans?" he teased.
When he saw how unamused Emily was and he handed her a scarf, bandana, and a pair of sunglasses. She put them on without another word.
Captain of the Sodor Guard, Harold Sikorsky met them at the gate of a police barrier. The officers under him kept the crowd at bay. The Anglo-Russian helped her out of the car and escorted her to the courthouse. Edward pulled around to the field where others were parked.
He walked in just as the defendant pulled up in a Rolls Royce Phantom. His driver honked the horn to signal their presence and the man stepped out. Spencer Gresley Doncaster was his name, his first, middle, and surname always said when he was near. He came from a respectable family on the mainland where they gained money from vehicle design and manufacturing. He touched his foot onto the stones. A common trait of the Doncasters was their style. As such, the eldest son of the Doncasters kept his silver hair slicked back and he kept a shiny black suit on at all times.
As he walked up to the courthouse, the crowd started to boo and throw things at the man. He ignored them and swatted them away as if they were simple flies. The guards had to drag away any who threatened him with physical violence.
Edward smirked at this easy case and he turned to enter the building. A cool draft from the newly installed a/c washed against his face as he hung his coat up. The clock struck 8:30 am as the Courtroom stood.
"All rise for the trial of Mister Spencer Gresley Doncaster."