"…when she suddenly threw a rock at me, screaming something – I couldn't make out what – and I don't remember much after that. There was blood in my eyes, and my vision was blurry…"
All through Mr. Abernathy's testimony, it was all Marina could do to keep from laughing. She wanted nothing more than to jump to her feet and call him a liar, but she knew it would only feed in to the fantasy he was spinning of her as a wild, violent woman.
It all felt like a horrible dream. Marina found herself at times extremely focussed and overwhelmed with the sharp, horrible clarity of the proceeding, and at other times she felt outside her body, unable to comprehend what was happening.
It was strange, being in the inn like this. What had once been a familiar, friendly room was turned into something so ugly. It was hardly recognizable, with the furniture set up to mimic a courtroom, and everyone looking so serious.
She peeked back at the gallery, to see the room filled with her neighbours and friends. Would they still be her friends after today?
She saw Gloria in the crowd, and Gloria, noticing Marina looking, gave a dramatic eye roll at Mr. Abernathy's testimony. Marina stifled a smile – it wouldn't look good for her to be smiling today. Still, she felt buoyed by Gloria's support.
"…to meet her, because she didn't want anyone else to find out what I knew."
"And what was that?"
Sir Wolseley got to his feet. "Objection – this is simply slander at this point."
"Counsel, approach the bench," the judge said. "Seeing as this is such a delicate point."
Marina watched these three white men in white horsehair wigs discussing her fate. At one point Lord Wolseley turned and looked at her, and she suddenly had enough of it. She turned to Philip. "You know what is coming now," she whispered.
"Lord Wolseley is arguing it is irrelevant," Philip said softly, watching the three men at the bench. "If it is sustained, then Mr. Abernathy cannot say anything more about it."
Marina blinked at him. Her idealistic, intelligent, idiotic, naïve husband. Her heart broke for him. This would be hard for him.
In a moment everyone returned to their places. "Objection overruled. In the interest of Mr. Crane and his wife's honour, we will clear the room."
Well. It was more courtesy than she had expected at least. But would clearing the room save her reputation? Or would it just allow rampant speculation among the townsfolk about what exactly her sins were?
Ms. Hurst gave her a little wave as she left, and then the inn was empty, except for the parties in the suit. The judge told Mr. Abernathy to proceed.
"That child is not Mr. Crane's."
If she hadn't been so well trained by Sir Wolseley, she would have laughed. She might not have been able to stop, once she started. Mr. Abernathy had looked so smug when he said it, but no one reacted as he had clearly expected them to. When Philip stayed absolutely still at this revelation, even Mr. Abernathy looked a little doubtful. Still he continued with his testimony, and his story that she had attacked him to keep her secret from becoming known.
Next it was Sir Wolseley's turn to counter-interrogate Mr. Abernathy. He very neatly took apart his testimony, pointing out how much more threatening Mr. Abernathy was, the motive Mr. Abernathy had to attack, the fact that he was known to be a violent man. Marina could see Mr. Abernathy getting angry throughout the questioning. She waited for him to blow up, to show himself for who he really was, but his lawyer must have trained him well – he managed to keep himself together.
Marina was only a little surprised when Dr. Fallows was called to the stand as one of Mr. Abernathy's witnesses.
"We object to this man's testimony – he was not a witness to the events in question," Sir Wolseley pointed out to the judge. The judge turned to the other side for an explanation.
"He is here to demonstrate Mrs. Crane's tendency to violence," the other lawyer argued. "He was also present shortly after the altercation and can speak to Mrs. Crane's behavior at that time."
"I will allow the witnesses – but be sure to stay on topic," the judge said.
Marina didn't even need to listen to the doctor's testimony – she knew what he would say. It was a rather comical picture he painted of her marriage to Philip – she the abusive harridan, he the poor, beaten wretch. Somehow her broken toe became a sign of her violent tendencies. In his version of Celeste's birth, she was nearly cannibalistic in her desire for Philip's blood and flesh.
"…that babe was far too large and healthy for the age she claimed-"
Sir Wolseley stood. "Objection – this information has no bearing on the trial issues – he is simply trying to smear Mrs. Crane's good name."
"What good name?" the doctor snorted. He sneered at Marina, and she stared back at him, keeping her face impassive. He was only showing himself for the bigot he was – but would the judge recognize that?
"I agree with Sir Wolseley – I told you to keep to relevant information," the judge reiterated, and the other lawyer moved on with his questioning.
He spoke next of the events the day Marina was attacked. Marina's injury was nothing but a little scratch, according to him – she wouldn't even have felt it, with her thick skin.
Marina turned to the window. She could hear a robin singing nearby, oblivious to the drama unfolding inside. She wished she could leave this room and go outside into the sun. She wished to hold that robin in her hand – and wring its scrawny neck.
Again, Sir Wolseley's counter-interrogation was skillful, leading the doctor to contradict himself and show his bigotry. Still, Marina could take no pleasure in it. She wasn't sure it would even matter in the end.
When it came time for her to give her testimony it went just as practised. She had felt strange, earlier, when Sir Wolseley had forced her to go over her testimony over and over. Why did she need to practice telling the truth? Now that she was on the stand though, she was glad for the practice. She barely had to be present.
When it came time for her cross-examination she felt oddly cool and detached, even as opposing counsel asked insinuating questions and tried to trip her up.
"What is that scar on your other hand, Mrs. Crane?"
"It is unrelated."
"Yes, your honour, this line of questioning is irrelevant," Sir Wolseley protested.
"It is corroboration for Dr. Fallows' testimony, and further evidence of violent tendencies."
The judge sighed. "Very well, go ahead, but do not expect me to give much weight to evidence that is not germane to the issue. And please, do not waste the court's time either."
"That scar, it is from the night you gave birth to your child, is it not?"
"Yes."
"And Mr. Crane, he has a matching scar, correct?"
Marina looked at Philip. She was having a strange reaction – she found it oddly endearing, hearing this lawyer call it "a matching scar". She wondered if he was having a similar thought, but from the serious look on his face, he was reacting quite differently.
"Yes."
"From when you bit him."
Marina stared at him.
"You must answer the question, Mrs. Crane."
"Was that a question?"
"Did you bite your husband's hand so hard that he has a scar across his thumb and knuckles?"
"Yes."
"How long have you and your husband been married?"
"Just under three years."
"And your daughter – how old is she now?"
"Just over 2 years."
"I'm sure you can be more specific than that."
"Two years, six months, and fourteen days."
"I see. It's a lovely age." He went back to his desk and got a book which he brought back to her.
"Mrs. Crane, can you read this for me?"
"On June 27th, Philip Crane and Marina Thompson were married."
"Thank you. May I ask you to read something else for me?"
He returned the book to his table and brought her a sheet of paper. She recognized it before she took it from his hands and had to fight down her rage. She could never escape the damn woman.
"The bond between man and bride is private, sacred, but I must tell you, I have learned that a grave fraud is afoot…" She read that fateful publication from Lady Whistledown out loud in the court. While she read, she looked up at Philip, who was simply nodding along, and she didn't feel as much hate for the author anymore. After all, if Lady Whistledown had never written this piece, Marina might have married Colin Bridgerton instead.
"What is the date of this publication?"
"June 2nd."
"What date did you first meet Philip Crane in London?"
"I don't remember exactly… June sometime."
"Well, if you can't remember the exact date, surely you can remember – was it before or after this was published?"
"After."
"Mrs. Crane, do you recall a party in August of last year?"
Marina frowned. "You'll have to be more specific."
"It was at the Tuttles' house. Mr. Braithewite gave you a ride home in his carriage."
Marina's heart dropped. "Yes."
"How long were you alone with Mr. Braithewite in his carriage?"
"Too long," Marina muttered, even as Sir Wolseley got to his feet to object.
"This is irrelevant."
The judge turned to the other lawyer. "Counsel?"
"Your honour, I am showing a pattern of behavior of Mrs. Crane's – that she was not loyal to her husband, and that she did not wish him to know. I have here an affidavit from Mr. Henry Braithewite, saying that on that night, he took her home after dinner at the Tuttles and during that ride she made advances, and when he wouldn't return them, she attacked him, verbally and physically."
Sir Wolseley objected to the inclusion of this affidavit, but Marina wasn't listening. She was looking at Philip, trying to see what he made of all this. He was frowning at the judge, intent on Sir Wolseley's arguments, and wouldn't make eye contact with her. Surely, he wouldn't believe this nonsense.
Only, she remembered around that time, when he had believed it. When he had thought she was interested in someone else, and offered to let her go for the sake of that other person.
Philip had warned her the trial would be painful, but she hadn't thought it would corrupt their relationship too.
"I cannot accept the affidavit," the judge said finally, "Let's move on. Thank you for your testimony Mrs. Crane. We will take a ten-minute break before continuing."
Marina moved to sit beside Philip. "About that night, with Mr. Braithewite-"
"Is he the reason you came home injured that night?" Philip asked softly.
Marina swallowed back sudden tears, remembering how horrible she had felt then. She nodded.
"I'm sorry. I never knew-"
Marina squeezed his hand. "I didn't want you to know," she said. "I was glad you were there."
Sir Wolseley frowned at them. "What is going on? Are these allegations true? You need to tell me-"
"I can explain it," Philip said. "Call me as witness and ask me about Celeste. Ask me about the bite, the foot, all of it."
Sir Wolseley did not look reassured. "Philip… do you know what you are doing? Not just for this case. As your friend, I must ask… are you certain?"
Philip smiled. "Yes."
The judge returned, and Philip took the stand.
"I first met Marina on June 5th, 1813. I had seen her in church, but we had never spoken before that day. I went to London to propose marriage to her, because my brother George had been indiscrete with her, and he had died in the war. Celeste is my daughter now, and I would never give her up. But I say that with full knowledge that when I first met Marina, it was only because she was with child – my brother's child."
"So you knew already? And you married her anyway?"
"I married her because of it. And she – the only reason she would ever marry a man like me was because she had no choice. I would never wish to relive that tragedy, nor for Marina to have to, but I am glad she is my wife. I don't care what circumstances brought us together."
Watching Philip being so honest on the stand, Marina felt an incredible sense of relief wash through her. It felt good to stop hiding the truth – and it felt good to hear him say that he wanted to be married to her, despite everything that had passed between them. Having him say it in front of an audience – small as that audience might be – made it feel more concrete, more real.
She just wanted to go home with him.
After the candour he showed during his direct examination, it was difficult for Mr. Abernathy's lawyer to trip Philip up on cross-examination. He had already admitted all the horrible things, and in so doing, had made them not-so-horrible after all.
It was those things that had brought them together, after all.