Twenty
The small parlor was filled with the scent of fresh cut flowers. Mouse sighed and traversed the length of the room for the hundredth time. She hated waiting like this. It was even worse than when she’d been confined to the sickbed the days following her return from Rosecliff.
Finally returned to full health, she’d managed to escape her sisters. Mouse hadn’t wanted company these last few days. She continued to pace the small room, waiting for word of her husband and the charges against him. From Rosecliff’s library they had been trundled off to London, in two separate carriages. She and O’Malley in one, and her husband and General Wexley under guard in the other. It turned out the men he was set to meet had been agents working undercover for the Crown. Wexley’s plan had been foxed from the start. The authorities were closing in upon the smuggling ring. They needed only the last few conspirators to finish the case. The General had long been suspected, however Michael was a newer wrinkle in the fabric.
Just as she was about to leave the room and find out what was going on, Arthur appeared at the door.
“Miranda, dear. How long have you been here?” The older man stepped forward to embrace her.
“Not long, Arthur. I slipped away from Merry and Cat while they were shopping for new fabrics. I can’t stand it! Please, you must tell me what’s going on!”
“I’ll tell you what I know, but you must first sit down and take some tea with me. You look absolutely dashed! You should have stayed home, Miranda.”
She shook her head. “If I’d stayed another minute, I’d be mad. I’ve written to Michael several times and he’s not answered my letters. Is he sick? Have they done something to him in that awful place?”
“Michael is fine. He’s being held in special custody on Langford Street. A third rate lodging, but relatively clean and secure.”
“I want to see him, Arthur. Please.” Mouse twisted her kerchief relentlessly.
“I wish that I could arrange it, Miranda. But the circumstances are rather tight. Michael is facing some severe charges. While we know him to be innocent, it’s going to take a bit to sort everything through. It’s best you go home and wait this out. There is nothing for you to accomplish here.”
Mouse tried to hold back her tears. “Those horrid men. Michael isn’t to blame for any of this. It is the worst torture to keep him from his family.”
Arthur reached across the sofa and took her hands in his. “Dear one, Michael is allowed visitors. I didn’t know how to tell you this, but I’ve been to see him twice.”
“What? But, I thought—”
“I know and it is my fault for misleading you. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. The truth of it is that Michael requested not to allow your visits. He made it clear that you were not, under any circumstances to visit with him while he’s being held.”
“That can’t be.” Mouse turned away from him. “I’m his wife, Arthur. I love him.” As she spoke the last, her voice twisted in her throat.
“I know that and I suspect he does as well. This is all a terrible scandal and he is doing what he can to keep you from it.”
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
“Yes. Michael has been charged in the death of his cousin, but the Council seems to think that it is a superfluous charge at best. The other, and more pressing, concern is that of treason. Your husband has
knowledge of the whereabouts of a rather large cache of weapons. He is reluctant to share that information at the moment, knowing that the Crown may see him as a traitor after all. I don’t think that will be the case, though. There’s evidence a plenty that he was held by Ambray against his will, and that he was in no way connected with the piracy of the ship transporting the weapons, the conspiracy of men who planned to sell them to the French. But he did have knowledge of his father’s activities prior to his service in Spain and it looks as if he might have been Ambray’s accomplice. This could sway the court’s decision, thus there is a chance that he might be found guilty of treason.”
“And be hung.” Mouse could barely form the words.
“I am afraid so. Michael is trying to plan what would be the best course of action. It’s not an easy choice. Imprisonment if he doesn’t produce the merchandise or execution if he does.”
“Is there no way to help him?”
“Only if we can find someone to testify to his cousin’s activities. Someone who can prove that while he did know of his father’s storage facilities, he didn’t have knowledge of Ambray’s duplicity. Of course, wisely, the man didn’t take anyone into his confidence. There is no one who can prove or disprove Michael’s innocence.”
“What about General Wexley? He surely could testify on Michael’s behalf?”
“You would think so. The valiant officer was likely the biggest coward of all. He hung himself in his cell, two nights ago.”
“Oh!” Mouse fell back at his words. The air around her became suddenly thin, and she felt the nausea double in her stomach.
“Miranda! Are you ill? Should I fetch a physician?”
Arthur’s voice cut through her reverie like a hot knife through butter. “Arthur.! What did you just say?”
“I asked if you were sick. I will dispense one of my aides to find you a doctor immediately.” Her brother-in-law turned towards the door.
“No. Wait. I have it now. What a ninny I’ve been!” Mouse quickly ran to the table and pulled open a drawer. Taking out a piece of paper
and a pen from a nearby table, she quickly scribbled a name on the parchment.
“Here is the one man who can corroborate Michael’s involvement in all of this! The only man who knew Ambray’s aspirations from the start. In fact, he stood to gain the most from my husband’s malady.”
She quickly held the paper out to Arthur, who looked at it a brief moment before taking it. Upon seeing the name written there, his eyebrows flew up in surprise.
“Dear heavens, girl, I think you’re right!”
~ * ~
Michael fidgeted with his cravat one more time. He simply hated the damn things. Felt like he was strangling, like a noose was already around his neck. This was his judgment day and he’d no patience for the genteel wrappings of society. Damn it all, he wanted to be free of all propriety as he marched to his pronouncement of death. Was that too much for a man to ask?
The door to the courtroom creaked open. He noticed that it was a much sunnier day than his last appearance in these chambers. The oil lamps were left unlit, since the sunshine streamed through the halls, brightly adding life to the deep hued browns of polished wood floors and furniture.
“Lord Winningham,” A voice from across the room from him called loudly. Michael jumped at the sound of it. But it was friend and not foe, so his alarm settled down a notch in his breast.
“Your Grace,” Michael bowed towards Mouse’s brother-in-law.
“Here now, son, no time for titles today. We must hurry. I’ve come to bring you good news.”
“Sir?” Before Michael could ask more, the older man waved him down.
“Let’s hurry. You don’t want to miss this.” Arthur quickly ushered him down the long aisle, past the posted guards, right up to the main row of benches.
Michael sat, open mouthed at his benefactor’s cheery demeanor. “What’s this about, sir? I am to be pronounced today. Surely you cannot be so happy at my removal from your family? I know I am not the best husband for Miranda, but I do love her—”
“And so you should!” Arthur answered, but he was busy stretching his neck, looking towards the other entrance to the room. “Damn it all. They should be here by now.”
“Who?” Michael felt as if he were suddenly a stranger at his own funeral.
Arthur looked back at him sharply. “Who? You’ll see in a moment. I don’t want to spoil if for you. Miranda would have my head on a platter, you know.”
“About Miranda,” Michael began, the tone of his voice changing caused Arthur to lean forward slightly.
“Yes, what about Miranda?”
“I have something I want you to give her.” Michael reached inside his jacket pocket, producing a folded piece of parchment.
“Here,” Arthur began, “what’s this?”
“Papers for our divorce. I want you to give these to her to sign as soon as possible.”
The Duke looked as though someone had just shot him. “You mean to cut her loose do you?”
“Yes. I do. When I’m found guilty there will be nothing left to give her. I would have her receive all of my estates and accounts, except I fear the crown will have designs on that. I know that she has you and her sisters to care for her. That you would look after her and the child until she makes a suitable match.”
“What makes you so certain that you’re to be found guilty?”
“I am going to divulge the ************************************************************ **** of the arms. It’s the right thing to do, Arthur. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Even at the court’s mercy, with no one to act in my stead as guardian, I would be sentenced to a sanitarium at best. This way, I’ll have some say in my future.”
“Even if that future contained a walk to the gallows?”
Michael nodded, his throat too tight now to speak.
“Well. If you ask me, that’s the coward’s way out. It appears as if Wexley wasn’t the only half-oiled lamp in the pantry.” He thrust the paper back to Michael. “If you wish to give her up, sir, that is your business. I will not be your runner. You want to divorce her, then do so. But I will not be the one to deliver the blow that will break her heart.”
The judge’s gavel sounded as the proceedings began. Michael no longer cared about his own fate. He wanted only happiness for Mouse. She deserved it.
When he chanced to look up, a shadow fell upon him. Michael stared into the stone-like features of Winton Winthorp.
“My God,” he whispered.
“Lord Winningham.” The other man spoke stiffly. He then straightened himself and walked to stand before the podium.
Michael sat entranced by the other man’s testimony. The loud, boisterous tone of the physician’s voice filled the courtroom.
~ * ~
“Please tell us of your involvement with Ambray Kelton, Mr. Winthorp.”
“I first met Mr. Kelton when I was a medical student at Oxford. He proved to be most efficient in aiding my studies by procuring medical corpses for the college.”
“And later,” Arthur prompted.
“It was after he’d returned from Spain that he contacted me. He was concerned in finding proper care for his cousin, Lord Winningham.”
“And you were in a position to help him?”
Winthorp smiled, looking towards Michael. “Yes, I was. I have a small establishment in the town of Cadbury. I treat the mentally ill. Mr. Kelton was about to be given guardianship of his cousin. I was enlisted to treat him.”
“And that treatment involved what, Mr. Winthorp?”
“The usual management for the insane. I used the accepted practice of laudanum, bleeding and restraints to care for him.”
“Were your treatments successful?”
“I see his lordship seated with us now. That should be proof enough.”
“Indeed,” Arthur stated. “To your knowledge, was the earl in any condition to participate in the heinous activities of Mr. Ambray Kelton?”
“No. The earl was pretty much incapacitated, as I recall.”
“To what did you charge his condition? Was it his service in the war? Or, perhaps his abduction from the battlefield.”
“It was a malady from his childhood, I believe. Though, I’m sure those other circumstances intensified his illness.”
“Were you aware of any wrong-doings by Ambray Kelton?” Arthur asked pointedly.
Winthorp paused a moment. “I knew there was some knowledge that his lordship held which Kelton was interested in. The ************************************************************ **** of the caves that the late Lord Winningham had kept secret, I believe it was. But as I was engaged only to care for present Lord Winningham, it was of little import to me.”
“And when Mr. Kelton obtained that information? What was to become of Lord Winningham then?”
“He was to be placed in my care, in residence at the hospital in Cadbury.”
“Then, since your appearance before this court a full two years ago, it is your opinion that Michael Kelton, the fifth Earl of Winningham could not have been an accomplice to Ambray Kelton, or General Barton Wexley in the coveting of arms or conspiracy against the crown?”
“No, he wasn’t capable. In fact, I offer my services presently to his lordship for continued care, should he wish it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Winthorp. That will be all.”
~ * ~
Michael watched as the man stepped down. Of course, he knew that Winthorp had been as much a lackey to Ambray as Mauler and Horn. Just the same, he stood blameless in front of the court. Michael sighed as Arthur came to sit beside him.
“Damn fool. I intend to introduce a new investigation into medical practices to Parliament. We must root out such blatant malfeasance in the medical profession.”
Before Arthur could say more, the court was called to order. Lord Kensington stood to face the courtroom.
“It is the judgment of this court that his Lordship, the Earl of Winningham, Michael Kelton, in light of recent developments be found innocent of all charges of treason against the Crown of
England, as well as in the death of one Ambray Kelton. We believe that he acted in the need for self-preservation and only in self-defense. As an addendum to these proceedings, we further place Lord Winningham into the care of His Grace, Arthur Throckmorten, the Duke of Sutherly, from this day for no less than one year. At that time it will be determined if he is able to manage his own affairs. For now, gentleman, this court is adjourned.”
Michael could barely breathe. He glanced over to Arthur and was about to thank him. At that moment, an anguished sound touched at the edge of his hearing. He turned around in his seat, peering at the cause of so mournful a note. At the back of the courtroom stood Mouse. Dressed in a pale, yellow gown, she clutched her reticule in one hand, and a large, leather bound book in the other and looking very much as though she’d descended from the heaven itself.
~ * ~
Mouse couldn’t contain her emotions any longer. She let a cry of excitement escaped her lips, and she saw that it immediately drew her husband’s attention. As he gazed back at her, she met his stare openly. For a moment they were both transfixed by the other’s sight. Wordlessly, she watched as he slowly rose from his seat, ignoring the men who now milled around him. Step by agonizing step brought him closer, Arthur just behind.
“Beloved,” he said softly, taking her into a crushing embrace.
“Michael, I’ve missed you so!”
For a moment the world disappeared around them and for a time, to each only the other existed. Mouse inhaled his essence with her every breath,
“Dear Mouse,” Michael spoke, his voice low and coarse with emotion, “we must find a place to talk.”
~ * ~
Ensconced in a small sitting room, Mouse watched her husband thank Arthur, then close the door on her brother-in-law’s retreat. For a moment, Michael stood before her, his shoulders square, his body trembling slightly as he gathered whatever statements clouded his thoughts. She could see his lean figure, barely filling the tailored
black waistcoat and wool trousers. At least in the month that had passed, Michael had been fed, so that his captivity at Ambray’s hand seemed to have faded. When she looked close enough, Mouse could see the haunting sadness that darkened her husband’s eyes.
“Please, Michael. Come sit down.”
He turned to her then, his expression unreadable. “Mouse, there is something we must discuss. Our marriage.”
Mouse pulled in an unsteady breath. “I know we can make a good job of it, Michael. I love you!”
He knelt before her, taking her hands in his. Gently he rubbed them between his thumbs, making circles in her palms.
“And, I love you, Mouse. If that were all there was to it, I’d stay happily at your side for all of eternity!” He drew an unsteady breath. “But, I am not well, Mouse. I fear I never shall be.”
“That’s not true, Michael!”
“Yes, it is. That’s why you must agree to this. I can’t stay married to you, Mouse. You deserve much better than me. I will have Arthur draw up the proper papers. I’ll see to it that you and the child never want for anything!”
Mouse looked down at the crumpled paper he pulled from his suit pocket. “Why, Michael? Why throw it all away when happiness is in your grasp?”
He looked away from her. “I’ve told you, I can’t be married. Ever.”
“Why? You don’t believe all those lies that Ambray told you?”
“It isn’t a question of what I believe, Mouse. The facts cannot be refuted.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true. You only need some time and proper treatment.”
“Mouse, listen to me. I can’t be with you and the child because I might hurt you! I almost did that first night you stayed at Rosecliff. I could fall to the fits at any time. Don’t you see?”
Mouse backed away from him. “No. That’s not true. I won’t believe it. You didn’t know me then. You were ill and suffering from Winthorp’s care. Answer me this, have you had a fit since you left Rosecliff this time?”
He shook his head. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t. There is something that I haven’t told you, my love. There remains one unexplained death.”
Mouse stood her ground. “I know that you didn’t kill Elsbeth. Mr. O’Malley testified that Ambray had sneaked into her room that night. The two of them had argued. It was Ambray who killed her.”
Michael’s expression of sorrow deepened in the lines that cut into his face. “I know that. Once you asked me what it was that lay between Ambray and I. Why I both loved him and hated him. I loved him because he forgave me, Mouse.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He forgave me for the worst sin any man could commit. It was my fault Katerina fell to her death.”
“Michael, we’ve discussed this before. It was an accident. A terrible, tragic circumstance, but an accident none the less. If there was blame, it was for all three of you. Each of you had an equal part in the events, Ambray in his deceit, Katerina in her betrayal, and you for allowing them to stir your emotions beyond control.”
Michael gave her a bitter laugh. “You would think so, eh, Mouse? Except there was one more victim which Ambray and I kept secret. One other died that night. I didn’t know until Ambray told me later. And, believe me, I wish to God he hadn’t told me at all.”
“Nothing was said about another death, Michael, surely the authorities would have mentioned—”
“Katerina was pregnant!” Michael’s voice broke. “Of course, I knew it wasn’t my child. I had been unable to perform my husbandly duties since returning from Spain. It was when Ambray told me of their affair that I became enraged. I hated them both, but Katarina the most. Of course, I said terrible things and wished her dead. I never thought it would happen.”
“Michael, you can’t wish somebody dead. You didn’t kill anybody. I know you. You would never mean to harm anyone, especially a child.”
“The fact remains that whether I meant to or not, I caused a child’s death because of my insanity. That’s why I cannot stay with you. The dangers to you and the child are too great!”
“Oh, beloved. You can’t hold yourself to blame for this. Any number of things can happen to us. If I were to become hurt in a carriage accident or fall down a flight of stairs, those are things that cannot be predicted. Or, what if you were to be shot while hunting, or worse? The truth is we cannot predict the future. We mustn’t stop living our lives in fear of what might happen.”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly.
Mouse watched as his blue-green eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Please, Michael. This time it will be different, I know it. When you’ve had a chance to heal, you will believe it, too. This time you will be in the arms of a loving family. There will be no laudanum to cloud your thinking or restraints to tie you down. I will be there, and so will Arthur, Cat, and Merry. And our children as well, Michael. Please, let us love you the way you deserve to be loved!”
She watched as the battle for his life played out on his expression. Clearly he struggled with her reasoning. But in the end, as his face slackened in surrender, he both won and lost the war for his logic.
“My God, Mouse, I find that I can refuse you nothing. I was a fool for ever believing so.”
“Never, my love. You are no fool, misguided a bit perhaps, but certainly nothing else.”
For a brief moment the two stared into each other’s eyes. Mouse waited, not daring to move for fear of shattering the fragile thread of emotion that formed a bridge between them. Then, she felt it. There was an almost palpable snap in Michael’s demeanor. For a second she thought he might toss her aside or run away. He did neither
16-02-07, 07:21 PM
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