AN: There are some known "bugs" with this chapter that I've uncovered as I'm doing more research specifically on courtroom architecture (somehow an architectural book has better coverage of courtroom procedure than the actual law sources I've been looking at!). Specifically I did learn that even defense attorneys would have been barristers, with another lawyer acting as a go-between (the notion of a defense attorney was a relatively new thing at this time). Also things are a bit inaccurate in terms of where the witnesses would have been and where Elizabeth would have waited before the trial. However I didn't think they materially affect the reading of the chapter and so decided I would go ahead and post and save those edits for a future writethrough, rather than delaying.
Chapter 21
Derby, Derbyshire
The town was humming with the activity of such a place on the eve of its assizes, even in the late hour of their arrival. The Bingley carriage set Elizabeth and Henry down at the Cross Keys, and they went to the nursery carriage to help the children out. Elizabeth was glad that at least Henry was staying here with her, but she wished she might have had Jane nearer. Henry and the Darcys had bespoke their rooms at the inn before they had left Derby after the quarter sessions, but the inn had run out of space by the time the Bingleys and Colbournes had sought to reserve their own apartments, so they were staying at the Bell.
Wilson and the children were settled into the sitting room beside Elizabeth's bedchamber, with feather mattresses scattered about the corners of the room and a basket beside the nurse's palette for Julia. Henry walked into Elizabeth's bedchamber with her after they were done and asked, "Is there anything else you need?"
What Elizabeth needed was her husband, and by his sympathetic gaze she knew he understood this. "No, thank you."
He raised his hand a little, as though he intended to take up hers but then thought better of it. "If I know Darcy, he is already wallowing in guilt. Well-deserved guilt, I might add."
Elizabeth tried to smile but failed miserably. William had accused her of nothing she had not chastised herself for, many times over. "Good night, Henry. Thank you."
She slept fitfully, alone and worried in the big old bed. When she woke from yet another nightmare, she was relieved to find dawn was imminent so she could leave off struggling to sleep. It meant she was that much closer to learning her fate, but by now she felt such a deep weariness, a deep despondency, that she merely wanted the ordeal to be over. The only thing she still had a mind to worry over was the children, and after Kelly dressed her – simply, in innocent white, as directed by Mr. Russell – and she ate what breakfast she could manage, she went into their room. All of them were still asleep and she seated herself in a chair by the door, quietly watching them.
The boys would be well, no matter what happened. It was by no means certain that William would go with her if she was transported, and so they might live with him at Pemberley. The girls were in a more precarious situation now, but Elizabeth felt certain he would not denounce them; he had given his word, and he would not go back on it. However, that did not mean he would wish to have them in his home, for they were the strongest possible reminder of something he deeply resented. Jane and Charles would take them in if he would not, though, and so at least they would know a loving home.
One by one the children awakened, sleepy and pleased to be held by their mother. Julia was last, a reminder that Elizabeth would have to see Alexander in court that day, but even this was not enough to shake her from despondency into other emotions.
There was a knock at the door and Henry entered. "We should go."
Elizabeth nodded, handing Julia back over to Wilson so she could follow him out. By the stairs he paused, reaching out to touch her arm.
"Elizabeth, wait. Before we go into court, I want to be sure you know – if it does come to transportation and Darcy will not go with you, I will."
"Henry, no – absolutely not. I cannot ask that of you," Elizabeth said, her eyes filling with tears at what he was willing to offer her. "I cannot tell you how grateful I have been for your friendship during all of this, but that is too much."
"The fault is in part mine. My father and I encouraged you in the marriage. You were not the only one who thought you were doing the right thing."
"Still, though, I cannot allow you to do that, to escort another man's wife halfway around the world."
"If you will not let me make the promise, then will you accept a more general one from your family? We will not let you go alone, whether it is Bingley or myself who will travel with you. Someone will go with you and ensure you are well settled there."
For a moment, the despondency lifted, allowing in emotions that were far more overwhelming. Elizabeth bowed her head and willed herself not to cry. "Thank you, Henry. I will accept that promise, and it gives me much relief."
She took up his arm and they walked down the stairs and out of the inn, down the road to St. Mary's Gate. There was a crowd milling about, one that promised to grow still larger, and someone called out, "There she is! It's her!" Henry put a protective arm about her and forced his way through the crowd with the other, until they were inside the safety of the Shire Hall. Elizabeth felt the shame of her notoriety and softly thanked him.
Mr. Russell approached them, leading them to seats up at the front of one of the courts. "Mr. Bingley informed me of the carriage accident," he said. "Unless he is dead or near it, I must insist you have Mr. Darcy brought here, regardless of his health. He may rest his head later."
"Mr. Darcy is aware of the stakes of this day," said Henry, with a glare that indicated the topic was to be closed, a glare even Mr. Russell could not miss. "He will be here if he is able to be here."
Jane came up and took Elizabeth's arm. "Here, Lizzy, come and sit beside me."
Elizabeth sat down, admitting to herself that some small part of her had hoped William would have been there. If he and the Colbournes had set off at first light, they might have arrived already.
"Jane, what if his head is worse than we thought?" Elizabeth whispered.
Her sister reached down and squeezed her hand. "Do not think thus, Lizzy. He will be well, and he will be here."
Then came the waiting. The chairs around them began to fill, and it was some struggle to retain the seats that had been saved for the rest of their party. The Earl of Sudbury entered the building and was aided to his seat by Henry. A few minutes after ten, Lord Walford was announced and took his seat, followed by the magistrates and then the grand jury, who were sworn in.
Lord Walford read the proclamation against vice and then listened as the clerk read out: "The first case before the grand jury is a charge of bigamy, against Elizabeth Darcy of Pemberley in the County of Derbyshire. Mrs. Darcy was bailed and charged to appear in the court today. Is Mrs. Darcy present?"
"She is, my lord," said Mr. Russell, rising and bowing. "I am her representative."
Lord Walford nodded. "Mr. Fielding?"
The prosecutor stepped forward. "An indictment was passed during the quarter sessions, therefore we ask the grand jury to pass it as a true bill." Fielding read off the essential details of the case to them, and then informed the judge that he was done. More cases followed: murder, arson, assault. Elizabeth felt another wave of shame, to be standing trial amongst such crimes.
The grand jury departed for their deliberations and soon after, the gaff began to appear. Again and again, the rod was slipped into the room, the paper dangling from the end, the clerk taking it, and another indictment being announced. Elizabeth watched all of this with dread in her belly, waiting until finally one of the announcements was:
"In the case of Elizabeth Darcy of Pemberley in the County of Derbyshire for the crime of bigamy, the indictment is passed as a true bill."
Mr. Russell had claimed the other seat beside her, and he leaned over and said, "This is as we expected. The grand jury merely rules as to whether there is evidence to proceed, and we knew that there was. Be prepared for your case to go first, as we discussed."
Elizabeth glanced back towards the doors, praying that William should walk through them at that moment. He did not, however. She sighed, her shoulders slumping. She would have to face this without him, and felt strangely torn as to whether she wished he did want to come to her but was too unwell to travel, or he was well but did not wish to be there for her.
Mr. Russell was right, that it would be the first case. Mrs. Darcy was called to the dock, a salacious murmur rolling across the court as the announcement was made. With one last squeeze of Jane's hand, Elizabeth rose to go thither, but Mr. Russell rose with her and stated, "My lord, I wish to beg use of a chair for my client. She is still recovering from childbirth – a very difficult birth – her second child in an eleven-month span."
Elizabeth could not truly say she was still recovering from childbirth, but she understood what Mr. Russell was about and said nothing as Lord Walford indicated a chair should be brought to the dock so that the lady could sit during the proceedings. Although she might have been well enough to stand, Elizabeth was still grateful for the chair, sinking down with a relieved glance towards Mr. Russell. She found herself grateful for his presence as well, standing there beside the dock; she could not like him, but she found she felt a certain confidence in him, and that was more important.
It was far too common that ladies of even reasonable cleverness of mind found themselves bound to husbands who had not their intelligence, men they could not look upon as equals and yet were lawfully bound to obey. Georgiana Colbourne had circumvented this unfortunate scenario by marrying a man who was not only her equal in intelligence, but also a man older and more worldly than she, and moreover one inclined to dote upon his wife. It was not so much that she deferred to him as that they were always in agreement, which made their present disagreement so very strange for her.
"I don't like waking a man who's had such a knock on the head as he has, G," stated Philip, firmly although kindly. "I understand the stakes, I do, but he needs to rest. Poor man has had two very hard knocks on the head in his life, and we're fortunate his brains aren't more addled."
"But he may not have a future with the woman he loves, if he does not get to the assizes."
"You nursed him while he was awake, G. Did he seem like a man who was fit for travel?"
No, he had not, in that hour of guilt and vomiting before he had mercifully fallen back asleep. Georgiana had been as angry at him as the rest of them when first she had overheard the conversation taking place in William's bedchamber, but by the time he had dropped off into slumber, her thoughts had tended more towards sympathy for both William and Elizabeth. To awaken as he had, to suddenly comprehend the events of the past few years from the perspective of a man who could remember what had come before, all whilst being so tremendously ill, must have been very disorientating for him. Georgiana wished he could have managed to hold his tongue during his disorientation, but his remorse afterwards had been genuine, and she knew how badly he wished to reconcile with his wife.
"Philip dear, I understand your points, but William is my brother and I must claim the knowledge that comes from longer acquaintance. I know with certainty that he would never forgive himself if he was not there for the trial," Georgiana said. "Let me at least attempt to wake him. If he is too unwell to travel, let it be his choice, not ours."
"Very well, m'dear."
"Thank you – will you have the carriage readied and his valet waiting? If things go as I expect, he will want to leave immediately."
Georgiana was right, as she had expected. When she shook William's shoulder, he awoke groggily, still seeming to be in a great deal of pain.
"Brother, if you are still unwell, you may go back to sleep, but I thought you would wish to know – it is just past ten o'clock in the morning."
"Ten o'clock – good God! He sat up immediately, grunted, grasped at the horrid lump on his head, and exclaimed, "Where is Wetherby? I will be ready to go in ten minutes."
"He should be here momentarily. They are readying the carriage – I thought you would wish to be off."
"You thought right – thank you, Georgiana."
Wetherby knocked on the door just then, and was directed by his master that he needed to work as fast as he had ever done in his life. He did so – oh how good, quick, reliable Wetherby did so, and as he worked, Darcy briefly contemplated how he had ever come to think he would eschew the services of a valet. A great many other things in life were superfluous, he thought, but not Wetherby.
As he had promised, they were gaining the carriage within ten minutes' time, the equipage setting out at a brisk pace on the Derby road. Darcy had rushed in dressing without any regard for the pain it caused, and it was only once they were moving apace that he allowed himself to acknowledge the searing pain in his head. The nausea had passed, at least, although he saw that someone – likely Georgiana – had seen a bucket placed beside him, just in chance it was needed. Although the pace pained him, Darcy did not ask them to slow down.
He held the lump on his head as the miles passed beneath them, thinking in the deepest guilt of what he had said to Elizabeth and what she had said in return. She was completely and utterly right, that she had suffered and he had not, and there was a good chance her suffering would continue; all would be dependent on the outcome of the assizes, the event he was presently late for. Darcy had a great many things to regret at present, but the thing he regretted most was that he was not by her side now, on what was certain to be one of the most difficult days of her life. So although his head throbbed, he urged the carriage on and was glad to see they made quick time over the miles before them.
The prosecution went first, and from the very beginning of his case it was clear how Mr. Fielding intended to paint Mrs. Darcy: as a social climber, the Hertfordshire miss who had snagged Mr. Darcy of Pemberley and then set her sights still higher. Fielding was aggressive and confident as he presented the copy of the parish register from Longbourn, submitting it to the jury as evidence that Elizabeth's first marriage was valid.
Mr. Fielding's confidence was then shaken, for Mr. Russell rose and informed Lord Walford that the defence wholly accepted the validity of Elizabeth Bennet's marriage to Fitzwilliam Darcy, and did not wish to waste any more of the court's time on associated evidence or witnesses. Lord Walford nodded and said he appreciated Mr. Russell's desire for expediency, then instructed Fielding to make it so.
Fielding glanced about with a hint of panic in his eyes, and then said, "Well, then the prosecution calls Alexander Beauford, Baron Neston."
Elizabeth swallowed hard, watching him rise from his seat and walk up to the witness box. He turned to look at her for a moment, a harsh, cold glare, and it felt for that moment as though his mere gaze could do her harm. Then his attention was turned to the task at hand, to his swearing-in as a witness.
Fielding asked first for the proof of his marriage, and the licence was produced from his coat and handed over to the prosecutor, who set it aside for the jury's examination.
"At the time of your marriage to Mrs. Darcy, did you believe fully that you were entering into a valid marriage?" asked Fielding.
Lord Neston replied that he did.
"Why did you decide to marry Mrs. Darcy?"
"She captured my heart – I was drawn in by her arts, made a victim of her schemes."
Elizabeth exhaled forcefully. How blatantly he lied!
Mr. Russell leaned down. "You may appear upset, if you wish," he murmured. "Do not show any anger."
Instead, Elizabeth schooled her countenance into an expression of stoicism as Alexander spun a tale of how he had been drawn in by a woman bent on climbing in society, how his heart was broken and he missed his dear little daughters. It was a tale that ran on for so long and became so repetitive that eventually Lord Walford said,
"Mr. Fielding, I believe we have heard sufficient, unless Lord Neston has additional points of fact you wish to query him on."
Fielding nodded and bowed, but did not appear embarrassed. Elizabeth realised his entire strategy with Lord Neston had been to allow the man to speak on his supposed heartache for as long as it was allowed. Mr. Russell approached the witness box at a brisk pace, and asked,
"Did you love Mrs. Darcy?"
"Yes, with all my heart."
"Are you the sort of man who would commit trespass?" Russell asked.
"My lord, this is a question that would disgrace or degrade Lord N– " Mr. Fielding rose as he spoke, but he could not complete his statement before Lord Neston ejaculated,
"Absolutely not! What sort of question is that? You intend to impugn my honour? Or do you seek to set me up for a civil case for criminal conversation?"
"I also fail to understand the purpose of your question, Mr. Russell," said Lord Walford, levelly. "You had best find a purpose, or move along."
"I did not mean to suggest criminal conversation. I meant in the more usual sense of the word, of trespassing upon a man's property – his house, his land. I meant, did you, Lord Neston, enter Mr. Darcy's study at Pemberley, without his permission, and go through his private papers?"
"I am not – I did not – I thought he was dead!" Alexander exclaimed.
"Indeed, and so did Mrs. Darcy," stated Mr. Russell. He did not look at the jury, but Elizabeth glanced at them out of the corner of her eye, and found them all watching this little drama keenly. She hoped they would take from it what Mr. Russell had intended they would. "Thank you, Lord Walford, I have completed my questions for this witness."
Lord Neston rose, fuming, and made his way back to his seat as Mr. Fielding called the rector of St. George's in London. The rector was a small man, his hair peppered with more grey than it had been when Elizabeth had last seen him. In quick succession, he established that he had performed a marriage ceremony between Alexander Beauford and Elizabeth Darcy at Bollington House, in London, that they had been married by special license, and that he had examined the license before the ceremony and found it to be valid.
"And how was Mrs. Darcy, on the day of the wedding?" asked Mr. Fielding.
"She seemed nervous, I'd say. She stuttered a little, when she said the vows."
"Of course I was nervous – that was a very big step I was taking," whispered Elizabeth.
"Save that for your own testimony. It does you no good now," Mr. Russell whispered back.
Mr. Fielding indicated he was done, and Mr. Russell approached the witness box, saying, "Reverend Griffiths, when you performed the ceremony, did you believe Mrs. Darcy to be a widow?"
"Yes, of course. I would not have performed the ceremony, else."
"Was the ceremony well attended?"
"It was – I cannot recall the precise number of people, but surely more than twenty, if not thirty. It was held in the ballroom."
"Were some of those attending either family or acquaintances of Mr. Darcy?"
"Yes. There were many people from the bride's family present, and I recall particularly that the Earl of Sudbury attended – Mr. Darcy's uncle."
"I have no doubt you will be familiar with it, but I must for the proceedings of the court ask if you are indeed familiar with the portion of the solemnization of marriage that states: 'Into which holy estate these two Persons present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can shew just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace.'"
"Yes, I am familiar with it. I have spoken those words some hundreds of times, I expect."
Mr. Russell nodded. "Did any of those attending raise an objection, when you spoke them at this wedding?"
"Nay, they did not. I expect we would not be here today, if they had."
"Did you think there was any possibility Mrs. Darcy was not a widow?"
"I did not. As I said, I believed I performed a valid ceremony."
Again, Mr. Russell nodded, and stated he had no more questions for the vicar. Mr. Fielding strode up to where the jury were seated, halting within feet of them. "That is the last of my witnesses. The defence may endeavour to complicate matters, but in reality this is a very simple case. Mrs. Darcy's first marriage was valid, and she attempted to marry another. You can see well enough her reasons for doing so: having climbed one tall rung on the ladder of society with her first marriage, she sought to climb still higher, to marry the heir to a viscountcy. Many of you will know a woman like her, grasping, reaching, not willing to be content with the sphere into which she was born. Mrs. Darcy was only unique in that she was willing to commit bigamy, in order to achieve her ends."
"Why will you not object to this vile slander?" Elizabeth whispered furiously.
"Because I find it useful to us that he says it, when we will show him to be wrong shortly. By undermining some of what he says, we cast doubt on everything he says."
Mr. Fielding seated himself, and Mr. Russell again made his way briskly towards the witness box, saying as he did so that the defence called Captain Blake, formerly of HM Rapid. Elizabeth watched the captain walk up to the box, unable to settle upon an emotion as to how she should feel about this man. His was critical testimony for her defence, Mr. Russell had said, and yet this was the man who had caused everything that had happened to the Darcys since the fire on the packet ship. Without all of that, you would not have your dear little girl – girls, Elizabeth reminded herself.
With all that happened yesterday, you may have lost your husband again.
"Captain Blake, the evidence you shall give to the Court and Jury sworn between our sovereign lord the king and the prisoner at the bar, shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; So help you God."
He agreed, but then Mr. Russell ignored his witness, striding over to the jury again. "Mrs. Darcy is not the woman the prosecutor has invented for you, although he is right in that I intend to show you how this case for bigamy is not nearly so simple as he has made it out to be. Mrs. Darcy is not your usual sort of bigamist, marrying a second husband by stealth in the hopes that her first marriage will not be found out. Through a chain of events she had no control over, Mrs. Darcy believed in good and complete faith that Mr. Darcy was dead. She believed this, her family believed this, her friends believed this, Reverend Griffiths believed this, and Lord Neston also believed this, as he testified earlier. Mr. Darcy was considered dead in the eyes of the law, declared such after an inquest. His wife had no reason to believe she could not lawfully marry again."
Elizabeth looked over to Alexander, who could not hide his fury at having fallen into what could only be described as Mr. Russell's trap.
"In order to understand why Mrs. Darcy believed Mr. Darcy was dead, we must explain the events that led to this belief. Captain Blake is the first of our witnesses who will help you understand this."
The captain took a deep breath before answering the first of Mr. Russell's questions, which was what had happened, the night of the fire on the Rapid. He spoke evenly and clearly in recounting the mast's being struck by lightning and his crew's efforts to put out the fire, but his voice wobbled as he spoke of the horrors of watching as Mr. Darcy was struck by a falling spar. Mr. Russell allowed him some moments of emotion after recounting this, but then asked what the captain had done next, which was to wait for his surgeon's examination.
"Your surgeon's name was Mr. Dawson, was it not?"
Blake replied that it was.
"Mr. Dawson will not be testifying today, as he died of fever three years ago," Mr. Russell said. "So I must ask you to relay to the court what his report was."
"He said that the wound was mortal."
"Were you in agreement with him, that the wound was mortal?"
"Aye, I was. I've seen plenty of wounds. I'd never expect a man to survive that knock on the head."
"You were a lieutenant in the navy, is that correct? That is how you have seen so many wounds at sea?"
Captain Blake confirmed both of the attorney's questions.
"And what happened next?"
Captain Blake sighed. "Being we were both agreed the gentleman could not live, and space in the boats we intended to man was limited, I decided it was best to leave his – what I thought would be his body behind. So I gave the order to leave him."
"The boat he was found in was not one you chose to man?"
"Nay. I'm not rightly sure how he ended up in it. I can only think that one of the men disagreed with my order. I am eternally grateful to him, whoever it was. And I must say to you, madam, that I'm deeply sorry for my part in all that's happened. I don't ask for forgiveness, for I don't deserve it. I'll sit in my guilt over what happened for the rest of my life, and I'm only glad that somehow, in spite of everything, he survived."
Elizabeth was glad he did not ask for forgiveness. She thought of the years of grief and pain. She thought of Alexander, pinning her body down on the bed. She thought of the feel of her dear little daughter, tight in her mother's arms. Only barely did she manage to nod, weeping as she did so. She drew her handkerchief from her reticule and tried to wipe away her tears, but they would not stop.
"That is not the extent of your role in this, is it, Captain Blake?" It was strange, that Mr. Russell could sound so sympathetic and kindly, when he set his mind to it. If Elizabeth had not known him before the trial, she might have thought his tone natural.
"No, it is not. We came ashore in the Scilly Isles, and from there I travelled to London. I went immediately to Lloyd's, given the loss of my ship, and I learned the Earl of Sudbury had been waiting there to speak to me." He sighed again, even more heavily than before. "He wished to know what had become of his nephew, Mr. Darcy. I told him Mr. Darcy had died instantly, when struck upon the head. I lied to him – there is no other way to say it. I thought at the time it would spare him some grief by thinking his nephew had not suffered, but it must be admitted that it saved me the trouble of explaining why I had left behind my passenger when he was not fully dead."
He gazed at Elizabeth, his countenance guilty. She averted her eyes, dabbing at them with her handkerchief.
"You then compounded that lie, did you not, by repeating it during the inquest for Mr. Darcy's death?"
"I did. I – I had not considered an inquest when I first spoke to the earl, but I did repeat the lie, for the same reasons I first gave it."
Mr. Russell stated that he had completed his questions, and returned to Elizabeth's side, murmuring that she had reacted perfectly. She huffed in frustration that he seemed to think this all some sort of stage play in which she was in control of her emotions, but the lump in her throat prevented her from saying anything.
Mr. Fielding stated that Mr. Russell was needlessly complicating the trial, just as he had expected, and he was not sure how useful the testimony of an admitted perjurer was. "I have just one question for the witness: Captain Blake, the events you described, when did they take place?"
"In October of 1816."
"The supposed marriage between Mrs. Darcy and Lord Neston took place in April of 1818, less than two years later. There is a provision in the bigamy laws allowing for a woman to remarry when her husband has been absent beyond the seas for more than seven years, but I think we may all acknowledge that two years is not seven years."
Captain Blake was dismissed, and the coroner, Dr. Atkinson, was called.
"Doctor, you oversaw the inquest for Mr. Darcy's death and ruled it a death by deodand, is that correct?"
The physician replied that it was, and that because the spar had been lost at sea, the deodand could not be seized.
"What led to the conclusion of death?"
"We had testimony by two eyewitnesses, Captain Blake and the surgeon, Mr. Dawson. They were both agreed that he had died instantly after being struck in the head by the deodand."
"What think you of their testimony, given Mr. Darcy was in fact still alive?"
Dr. Atkinson sighed. "I think we saw the testimony of two men who feared admitting that they left a man to die – a man with powerful relatives."
"Do you regret not calling additional witnesses from the ship?"
"I do, although I fear they would all have aligned their testimony as the captain and surgeon clearly did. Perhaps if I had chanced upon calling whomever put him in the boat, we might have learned the truth."
"Dr. Atkinson, do you consider yourself to be a person of authority?"
"In my role as a coroner, yes, I suppose I am."
Mr. Russell stated that he had not further questions, and Mr. Fielding asked when the inquest was, establishing that it was also held in October of 1816, and repeating that two years was less than seven years. The coroner was told his testimony was complete, and the Earl of Sudbury called. He rose from his seat slowly, and Henry showed every intention of escorting his father to the witness box, but some few words from the father encouraged the son to sit and the earl stumped up to the box alone, leaning heavily on his walking stick. His countenance was as weary as his posture as he was sworn in, but he answered Mr. Russell's questions in a strong, clear tone, establishing that his nephew had travelled to Halifax to look after his own timber concerns, that he had sent a man to Lloyd's upon hearing reports that HM Rapid had been lost at sea, and had taken to waiting at that establishment himself, after hearing reports that the survivors had come ashore in the Scilly Isles.
"It was there that you met Captain Blake?"
"Yes."
"And he told you that Mr. Darcy had died instantly, after being struck on the head by a falling spar?"
"He did."
"Did you have any reason to doubt him?"
"No."
"You believed Mr. Darcy was dead?"
"Yes – I was deeply grieved, over the loss of my nephew. Such a good young man. He still is, thank God."
"Did you have any reason to mistrust Captain Blake?"
"No – I had no prior acquaintance with him, but it never crossed my mind not to trust him. I would generally presume the captain of a packet ship to be trustworthy, and I saw no reason to consider Captain Blake an exception."
"What did you do, after your conversation with Captain Blake?"
Elizabeth knew this well enough, for she had lived it, and she found her tears renewed at the memory of that day, that awful, excruciating day. She realised she had soaked through her handkerchief, and felt another slipped into her hand as the earl recounted his version of events. It was Jane, kneeling beside her and giving over a fresh handkerchief, dear, dear Jane, who clasped her sister's hand and whispered that Elizabeth was doing well and should stay strong. She endeavoured to do so, as the earl expressed his deepest remorse for his part in all that had happened.
"You wholly believed the news you imparted to Mrs. Darcy regarding her husband's death to be the truth, am I correct?" When the earl once again replied yes, Mr. Russell added, "Was there any reason for Mrs. Darcy to disbelieve the intelligence you had imparted to her? To think you might have been dishonest, or simply wrong?"
"No, not at all. I cannot see how she could have possibly thought such a thing."
"Would you consider yourself to be a person of authority?"
"I am a peer of the realm. I sit in the House of Lords. So yes, I am."
"Thank you, my lord. That is all the questions I have for you."
Once again, Mr. Fielding expressed his belief that they were wasting the court's time, adding that he had no questions for the earl.
"The defence calls Mrs. Darcy," stated Mr. Russell. Another murmur rippled across the room as Elizabeth took a deep breath and rose. She summoned her courage, willing it to rise up within herself, but it never came. The witness box seemed very far away, and she was grateful when Mr. Russell approached her and offered his arm to lead her thither. His countenance wore a mask of sympathy, but she could sense that beneath it he was glad she was playing the part of an infirm woman so well. Her heart pounded within her chest as she was sworn in, but she found she relaxed with Mr. Russell's first questions, about her marriage to Mr. Darcy in the time before he boarded HM Rapid. Despite all that had happened since, despite their present estrangement, she could still recall that time with fondness and love, and she described the happy, loving couple who had been thrilled to become a happy, loving family. Then Mr. Russell asked if it had been difficult, to see Mr. Darcy leave for some months to go to Halifax.
"It was. I knew that I would miss him terribly while he was gone, but we were still both full of hope and happiness. I suspected I was in the family way again, and hinted as much to him."
"Were you still hopeful, when reports began to come in about the Rapid?"
"I was – worried, but still hopeful. Knowing there were survivors, I had every expectation that he would be among them. Every day, I awoke believing it would be the day he arrived in London."
"The Earl of Sudbury was the one who told you Mr. Darcy was not among the survivors that had come ashore at Bryher?"
"Yes."
"He told you Mr. Darcy was dead? That Captain Blake had informed him Mr. Darcy had died instantly, after being struck in the head by a falling spar?"
"Yes."
"Did you have any reason to disbelieve either of their accounts?"
"No, I considered the captain of a packet ship and a peer of the realm to be men whose statements I could completely trust," said Elizabeth. This was the one line of her testimony Mr. Russell had directed her to say, and by his countenance she thought she had delivered it well.
"So you believed with certainty that your husband was dead?"
"Yes."
"What was your reaction?"
Tears came to Elizabeth's eyes, and she blinked them away. "I believed what Lord Sudbury told me immediately, and I fainted from the shock. It took time, after that, to fully comprehend that my husband was gone. Then anger, grief, and eventually sadness."
"A pervasive sadness, I believe – is it true that you remained in full mourning for more than a year?"
"Yes, for fifteen months. The only bright light of that time was the birth of our second son. I was so glad to have him, to have one last piece of his father."
"You were very committed to your sons by Mr. Darcy, were you not?"
"Yes, I vowed that I would do whatever I could for them, that I would raise them to be the men their father would have wanted them to be."
"Why did you come out of mourning?"
Elizabeth sighed. "My family expressed their concerns to me, that I was shutting myself away in my grief. I decided they were right, that I should go into half-mourning and begin mixing in society again."
"Were you intending to look for another husband at that time?"
"No. I never looked for a husband. But I began to consider that something must be done, when I realised that I was shunned by many of the people in society that had previously accepted me – that I had derived status from my husband, and once he was gone, I was not afforded the same status as his widow."
"Was this status something you cared deeply about?"
"Not for myself, but for my sons. I knew I would need to help them make their way in society as they grew older, and I could not do that from the position I had slipped to. I was introduced to Lord Neston at a dinner party, and when he began paying court to me, it seemed the best solution."
"Did you love Lord Neston?"
"No, and he was aware of this. The marriage was not arranged, but it was a sort of arrangement. When he made his offer, he spoke of mutual benefit – that my sons would gain a stepfather, I would gain his family's connexions, and would become a baroness by courtesy and eventually a viscountess. He would gain sons, to continue his family's title. As an only son himself, this was very important to him."
"Did you have any affections at all for him?"
"In the beginning, I found him well-mannered and intelligent. I respected him. But my whole heart still belonged to Mr. Darcy."
"He was aware of this?"
"Yes. I told him thus when I accepted him."
"At any point during all of this time, did you think there was any possibility that Mr. Darcy was still alive?"
"No – if there was even the slightest chance, I would have searched for him. I certainly would not have married again."
"If he was alive, somewhere in the world, would it have been your expectation that he would have been seeking to get word to you, or to return home?"
"Yes, absolutely. Beyond the love we shared, he was a man to whom duty was everything. Even when he could not recall us, as soon as he knew of us, he took up his place as my husband out of duty to his vows." As she said this, Elizabeth realised the possibility that even now, once his initial anger passed, he would return to her out of that duty to his vows – even if he could no longer love her. She did not want him back out of duty.
"You believed fully that your marriage to Lord Neston was valid, and you were a widow when you married him?"
"Yes, I did."
"And how was that marriage?"
"As I expected, at first. I gained companionship, my sons gained a stepfather, and new doors within society began to open for me. I thought I had done the right thing."
"But things changed when your first daughter was born, did they not? Lord Neston wished for a son and heir?"
Elizabeth noted the care he had taken to describe little Elizabeth as her daughter, and did the same in her reply. "Yes. He was disappointed that I bore a girl."
"Was it your choice, to bear two children in an eleven-month span?"
"No, absolutely not."
Carefully, tiptoeing around the status of little Elizabeth and Julia, Mr. Russell led Elizabeth to detail the deterioration of her marriage to Lord Neston, the feeling of betrayal at finding him in her late husband's study at Pemberley and the awful events that had followed, the beating of poor little William with the riding crop and her fears that her children were not safe in Bollington House. They were painful memories to recount, but she spoke with as much strength as she could muster, avoiding Alexander's angry gaze as she gave her account, instead drawing on dear Jane's sympathetic countenance. Elizabeth understood now why Mr. Russell had seated her family at the front, and she was grateful to him yet again.
She was feeling deeply weary by the time Mr. Russell said he had no further questions for her. As Mr. Fielding rose, however, she realised the worst was still to come.
The carriage came in to Derby at a goodly pace, but Darcy still willed it to go faster. Past the manufactory workers' dwellings, the taverns and ale-houses. Past Nuns Green, where the scaffolding stood. Darcy had seen his share of executions there, as a magistrate. His stomach roiled. Not Elizabeth. Dear God, not Elizabeth.
The horses slowed to a walk as they drew nearer to St. Mary's Gate. A crowd had formed there, people milling about without any seeming care that they were on the road. Impatience welled within Darcy and he determined he would be better off on foot, informing his sister and brother-in-law of this and throwing open the carriage door before they could endeavour to stop him. His head swam as his feet hit the road, he took a moment to collect himself, then ran as best he could, dodging the people in his path. As he neared the Shire Hall, he saw two men and one woman, garishly dressed, a crowd around them tossing coins into a hat on the ground.
"Oh, Mr. Darcy!" cried the woman, throwing herself into the arms of one of the men. The crowd laughed as she made a great show of kissing him, then drawing away and throwing herself into the arms of the other man. "Oh, Lord Neston! Who shall I choose?"
Angry and disgusted, Darcy recalled himself to his purpose. He hoped Elizabeth had not seen this tawdry pantomime. The crowd nearest the door was so thick he had to push his way through, and as he did so, someone called out, "Oi, it's Mr. Darcy!"
He realised in that moment that attempting to traverse such a crowd by himself had been a dangerous idea. But then another voice called out,
"Oi, let 'im through!"
The crowd parted somewhat, although Darcy was still much buffeted on his way to the door, and he entered the hall feeling dishevelled, his head throbbing. He strode down to the end of the court used for criminal proceedings, his breath catching in his throat as he saw that Elizabeth was seated in the witness box. His approach was not noticed at first, but as he sighted his family and pushed his way to the front where they were seated, a ripple of noise emerged, becoming so loud as to require the prosecutor to cease speaking, and Lord Walford to order the court into silence.
They were all staring at him, Elizabeth included. She looked weary and despondent. Darcy stared at her, hoping she saw all the remorse he felt, then he mouthed: "I am sorry. I love you."
Lord Walford – and most of the rest of the court – were still looking at him expectantly, so Darcy looked about for a seat and found Henry removing his hat from the seat beside him, glaring at Darcy as he did so.
"Fielding has been badgering her for the better part of a quarter hour, and he does not appear to be anywhere near stopping," murmured Henry. "He made her recount her father's and your income, just before you came in."
"So, Mrs. Darcy, you married a man worth eight thousand pounds more than your father. And what were Lord Neston's expectations, when you attempted to enter into matrimony with him?"
"About nine thousand pounds per year."
"Yes, but also the heir to a viscountcy – do not forget that," said Fielding. "You claim you married Mr. Darcy out of love, and Lord Neston as an arrangement, and yet with both marriages, you climbed in society. How are we to believe you married Mr. Darcy for love?"
"Do you want me to give evidence?" asked Elizabeth, her voice wavering. "What evidence would you have me provide, of the love between two hearts?"
You do have the evidence, Elizabeth. Look at me. Look at me.
She did so, and Darcy mouthed, "Hunsford." He was not certain if she comprehended him, and so he did it again, more slowly this time.
"I – I refused him, the first time he offered for me," Elizabeth stated. The court seemed to emanate a collective gasp, and Mr. Fielding was too shocked to interject as Elizabeth continued, "There were a great many misunderstandings between us, at the time, and I had been told falsehoods about him. It took time, to learn the truth, to understand his real character. Once I did, I came to love him. I was deeply thankful when he offered for me again, half a year later."
Then Mr. Russell was in their midst, whispering furiously, "Why was I not told of this? Can any of you aside from Mr. Darcy corroborate this?"
"I can," whispered Jane. "She told me of it, after it happened."
"Good, I want you on next. Be prepared to speak of it." Russell said, then he turned his gaze on Darcy. "You are late. At least you look suitably injured. You will go last, if your testimony is allowed."
Mr. Fielding had the countenance of a man who has unexpectedly trod into a bog, and he made a visible effort to collect himself and move to safer ground.
"How long after you say you thought your husband was dead did you marry Lord Neston?"
"You have already established that it was less than two years," said Elizabeth. She looked much less weary now.
"It was less than seven years?"
"Yes. It is my understanding that two is less than seven. I married Lord Neston less than seven years after I was told by the Earl of Sudbury that my husband had died and his death was confirmed following an inquest."
"This trial has already gone excessively long," said Lord Walford. "Mrs. Darcy is not the only one who does not wish to revisit things we have already established, Mr. Fielding, nor verify basic mathematics."
"You testified that your supposed marriage to Lord Neston was an arrangement. Lord Neston has testified that he loved you. How would you explain this discrepancy, Mrs. Darcy?"
"I cannot say. I was very upfront with Lord Neston when he offered for me. However, you did not ask him to provide any evidence of his love, as you did me. If a man truly loves his wife, he does not treat her as Lord Neston did me."
Mr. Russell huffed, and Darcy thought he understood why. Elizabeth had regained her courage – her beautiful courage – and with it was allowing her wit to flow free. She was not the deferential woman Russell had asked her to be. Thankfully, Lord Neston had grown furious over this last statement, and he signalled to the prosecutor to stop. Fielding said he had no more questions for the witness, and Elizabeth arose uncertainly.
Darcy rushed forward to offer her his arm, wishing he could take her up in an embrace and hold her. Instead, he settled for leading her back to the dock, and whispering to her,
"I am so sorry, my darling – so sorry. But I am here now. I am with you. I love you. I am with you, no matter what happens."
There was a chair there and she seated herself. Darcy found Charles and Henry pushing a second chair into the space behind her, and he sat, taking up her hand and clasping it tight.
"I call Mrs. Darcy's sister, Mrs. Bingley, as my next witness," said Mr. Russell.
As Jane was walking to the witness box, someone called out, "Her name ain't Mrs. Bingley, it's Aphrodite!" This caused both of the Bingleys to turn rather red, and Lord Walford to call for decorum in his court. Decorum did return as Jane was sworn in, and then Mr. Russell approached her, asking,
"Mrs. Bingley, your sister testified that she refused Mr. Darcy's first offer of marriage. Were you aware of this?"
"I was," stated Jane. "She had gone into Kent, to visit with our relations there, and Mr. Darcy was also in the same neighbourhood, visiting his aunt. I had been in London with other relations of ours, and when we were reunited, my sister told me Mr. Darcy had proposed to her, and she refused him."
"Were you surprised? Mr. Darcy's was a very eligible offer."
"I was not. My sister always said that only the deepest love could compel her to marry."
"Do you believe she was deeply in love with Mr. Darcy, then, when they did marry?"
"I do – we were married together, you know. It was a double wedding. We were both tremendously happy."
Now Russell asked her to describe Elizabeth's grief, when she had thought Mr. Darcy dead, then asked Jane if she had seen any reason to doubt what the Earl of Sudbury had told her sister, or the finding of the inquest. Jane spoke with the slightest little warble in her throat, which made clear to those who knew her that she was only just managing to hold in her emotions at being asked to recount such things. Mr. Russell concluded his questions, and Mr. Fielding approached Jane.
"Mrs. Bingley, you stated that only the deepest love could compel your sister to marry, and yet she has testified today that her marriage to Lord Neston was not out of love, was instead an arrangement, as she put it. Can you explain such contradictory statements?"
"They are not contradictory," Jane smiled serenely. "You are not a mother, Mr. Fielding. You do not know a mother's love. There is none deeper. My sister married Lord Neston because she wished to do what was best for her sons. If he had treated her better – if he had treated them better – it would have been a good marriage. But he was not a good man, and it was not a good marriage. I thank God every day that Mr. Darcy returned, that she is safe from Lord Neston."
"Mrs. Bingley – "
"I only want her to stay safe. It is wrong, for her to be on trial. She did not know! None of us knew he was alive! They said he was dead!" Jane lost the battle with her tears, pulling another handkerchief from her reticule and dabbing at her eyes.
"Perfect, perfect," whispered Mr. Russell, while his counterpart stood there looking like a man who had inadvertently kicked a puppy, but knew he would be blamed for it even though it had not been his intention. Most of the jury looked as though they wished to take Mrs. Bingley up and comfort her, but of course it was Charles who led her away from the witness box once she was dismissed, still weeping and whispering, "Poor Lizzy, poor, poor Lizzy!"
Charles and then Henry were next, testifying as to Elizabeth's ill treatment at Lord Neston's hands, filling Darcy with horror over what she had suffered. He clasped her hand still tighter and wished there was more he could do, but he knew that it was too late to do what he should have done, which was seek out answers about his past much sooner than he had done so. All of this, you could have prevented!
As well, Russell asked them whether they thought Darcy would have sought to return to his wife – whatever obstacles were in his way – if he had been aware of her. Both of them testified that they had no doubt he would have done so. Both were asked if they had supported her marriage to Lord Neston, and both said they had done so, understanding her reasons. It was Henry who added,
"I do wish now that we had taken a better measure of Lord Neston's character, for it would have saved Mrs. Darcy a great deal of suffering. His public character did not match his private character, back then. Perhaps if there is one fortunate outcome of this trial, it is that now his private character is known."
Henry stared at Lord Neston as he said this, which put the man in further fume. Darcy glared at the man as well, feeling not yesterday's jealousy, but instead a deep fury. This man had frightened Elizabeth, harmed Elizabeth, forced her to give up their sons in order to protect them. Darcy had never been a man inclined to violence, but in that moment thought he could very well run Lord Neston through if given a sword.
"I would agree with you, General Fitzwilliam. This is why we did not wish to contest Mrs. Darcy's first marriage. Transportation would be better for her, than being forced to return to married life as Lady Neston."
"Knowing her, I believe she would have been more worried for the children in that scenario."
"My lord, this has turned into a conversation, not an interrogation!" exclaimed Mr. Fielding.
"Quite right, Mr. Fielding. I recognise the complexities in this case, Mr. Russell, but I do not want it to take all day."
"I am finished, thank you."
As he had with Charles, Mr. Fielding asked only a few perfunctory questions of Henry. Jane had so elegantly and yet thoroughly skewered the man that he seemed reluctant to venture into anything that might turn out to be unknown territory.
"My lord, as I my final witness, I would like to call Mr. Darcy," Russell said. "I recognise that first husbands are not typically allowed to testify in such cases, however this is a unique situation, and Mr. Darcy is best equipped to explain the reasons for his absence."
"I will allow it, however let us keep his testimony focused on that topic."
Mr. Russell nodded, and Darcy squeezed Elizabeth's hand one last time, rose, and went to the witness box to be sworn in.
"Mr. Darcy, I am glad you were able to join us today. I understand you sustained a rather severe head injury following a carriage accident yesterday."
"I did, and I must apologise for my delay in attendance today. My relations wished to let me rest."
"I understand there was at least some benefit from your injury, in that – as is sometimes the case with such things – this second injury to your head has restored your memory."
Darcy had not made it into a benefit, he thought, gazing guiltily at Elizabeth. He had antagonised his dearest love and upset her before she had to endure this. "Yes. My memory has finally been restored."
"Prior to that, it had been missing since October of 1816, is that correct?"
Darcy replied that it was, and Mr. Russell led him through a detailed recounting of what he could recall, in being found by the Trevillses and nursed back to health.
"In the months and years after that, did you make any attempt to learn anything about your past?"
"I did not – there was nothing to lead me to think I had been a gentleman, that I had a wife, or children. We – given the way I was found, we thought it a more likely scenario that I had been involved in free trading, and something had gone off with my former business associates."
Many in the courtroom enjoyed some moments of mirth over this. In another series of questions, Mr. Russell led Darcy through the recounting of what had finally made him decide he needed to seek out his past, and from there to his discovery by Bingley.
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I wish also to ask if you can confirm that Mrs. Darcy refused your first offer of marriage."
"I must object, my lord," said Mr. Fielding. "Mr. Darcy was only to speak to the events regarding his absence."
"I think it is reasonable to allow him to corroborate this as well," stated Lord Walford. "Presumably Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were the only first-hand witnesses to the event."
"She did refuse my offer. She was too kind to say that it was poorly made, but it was. I am glad that she did so, though, for so many reasons. I knew with certainty that I had her affections when I married her – Mrs. Bingley is absolutely right, when she says that only the deepest love could compel her sister to matrimony. And she was right that such love also applied to our sons. Mrs. Darcy knew how I valued my family's legacy, knew how important Pemberley was to me, what responsibilities our son would hold as its master," Darcy said, keeping his gaze strong on Elizabeth. His wife did not move, but tears were streaming down her face. "She sacrificed so much for our family, and I am not worthy of her."
"My lord!" exclaimed Mr. Fielding.
"Yes, we have strayed rather far at this point," Lord Walford said.
"I have no further questions," Mr. Russell said.
Fielding rose. "You loved your wife deeply, did you not, Mr. Darcy?"
"I love my wife deeply."
"And yet you left her, did you not? You left her for several months to go to Halifax."
Darcy scowled. "For any man who is devoted to his family and his dependents, there are times when he must do what is necessary, rather than what he wants to do. I did not want to go to Halifax, but I considered it as a necessary duty to my uncle, who is the patriarch of our family."
"How did it feel, when you learned your supposedly beloved wife had married another, less than two years after you went missing?"
"She did not think I was missing – she thought I was dead. And you do not know her – she would have searched to the ends of the earth if she had thought there was even the slightest chance I was still alive!"
Darcy had in part sidestepped the question, but perhaps the vehemence of his response was sufficient to convince Mr. Fielding it was best not to push further, for he said, "I have no further questions. Mr. Darcy's support of his wife is admirable, but expected. This is why first husbands are typically not allowed to testify in such cases."
Darcy was dismissed, and he returned to his seat, taking up Elizabeth's hand again. She turned to face him, tears still streaming down her face, and her countenance in that moment scorched him to his soul. Darcy reached out, brushing them away with his hand. "My poor darling, I am so sorry – for everything."
Mr. Russell strolled over to the jury. "As Mr. Fielding has beaten us all over the heads with, there is a provision in the bigamy law that allows a woman to remarry without fear of punishment if her husband has remained beyond the seas for more than seven years. However, there is no provision – and I posit there should be – for a woman's being told, unequivocally, by persons in positions of authority, that her husband is dead – legally dead, as found by an inquest – when in fact he is not, and her husband's lacking the ability to return in sufficient time to prove otherwise. Mrs. Darcy had no intent to deceive – immediately upon learning that Mr. Darcy was indeed alive, she returned to him.
"To find Mrs. Darcy guilty of bigamy means that every woman who loses her husband in a manner in which there is not a body returned to her must live in the shadow of prosecution. Is this what we want for our naval widows? Our army widows? It has not been seven years since Waterloo – must all the poor widows of that event now live in fear?"
Darcy glanced over the court, and saw that Georgiana and Sir Philip had arrived and were standing at the back of the criminal court. Both Sir Philip and Henry seemed appreciative of the Waterloo argument, and Darcy agreed – he had not thought it possible to make Elizabeth's case a matter of patriotism, and as much as he loathed Mr. Russell's manners, still he valued the man's cleverness and skill.
"Beyond this, Mrs. Darcy has already suffered more than enough for her very logical choices. If Mr. Darcy had not returned when he did, it is likely this case would never have gone to trial. All you would have seen of Mrs. Darcy's fate is a death notice in the newspapers. Husbands are not prosecuted for their wives' deaths in childbirth, but in certain cases, perhaps it should be allowed."
This put Lord Neston in further fume, and Darcy was glad of it.
"When committing most crimes, I would posit that one has awareness of what one is doing. When a man commits murder, he knows he is committing murder. When a man steals something, he knows he is committing larceny. When a bigamist tries to embark on an invalid second marriage, he – or she – knows what they are about. They do so willingly, and with the intent to deceive. That was not what Mrs. Darcy did, and you should not class her among other bigamists. I know this has been a long trial, and I think you gentlemen for your time."
"Thank you, Mr. Russell," said Lord Walford. "Given a gentlewoman is involved, I would ask the jury to complete their deliberations and render a verdict now. Before you do so, I would instruct that if you consider the law insufficient for this case, the correct verdict would be not guilty. You may retire for discussion, if necessary."
Mr. Russell emitted a pleased sort of hum, at this. The jury whispered amongst themselves, then stood and indicated an intent to deliberate.
The clerk of the peace stood and stated, "Bailiff, you shall swear that you will keep this jury without meat, drink, fire, or candle; you shall suffer none to speak to them, neither shall you speak to them yourself, only to ask them whether they are agreed; So help you God."
The bailiff agreed, and the jury were led off.
Mr. Russell looked still more pleased. "This is a good sign. If they believed Mr. Fielding was correct and the case simple, they would not have needed to retire."
Darcy clutched his wife's hand still tighter, and gazed at her. There was so much he wished to say, but now was not the time. Now, they must wait – and hope.