His expression sobered, and he reached up to take her face between his hands. ‘Are you ready?’
Not really, she wanted to answer but didn’t. It was too easy to let her thoughts wander down the path of anxiety.
You’re going to survive this, she told herself.
She could only hope it would be true.
After the initial introductions were spoken, the magistrate gestured for all of them to sit. Mallencourt’s younger brother was there, along with Lady Anne, Lady Regina, and Lord Havershire. Dalton had hoped that his father would come, but it seemed that John had stayed away.
The clerk stood and said, ‘We are gathered together to speak of some new evidence that Reginald Clark, Lord Mallencourt, has discovered in regard to his brother’s death. The purpose of this meeting is to determine whether an arrest should be made and whether a trial should be pursued for wrongdoing.’
At that, Hortense Whitely stood. ‘Your Worship, I have been appointed as the attorney representing the rights of both the Earl of Havershire and his daughter, Lady Regina.’
‘Is that truly necessary, given the absence of a trial?’ the magistrate enquired.
‘It is. And it is my sincere hope that we may put this matter to rest and avoid a trial altogether.’
The baron appeared irritated but motioned for the clerk to present his concerns. Dalton grimaced when he heard the clerk say, ‘It is believed that Lady Regina Crewe, daughter of the Earl of Havershire, did feloniously lure the late Baron Mallencourt to her home. That with malice aforethought, she did bring Lord Mallencourt into the drawing room alone, where she feigned seductive behaviour to the baron before striking him over the head with the intent of murder. And that she instructed her servant to dispose of the body near the River Thames.’
The clerk continued describing the details, but Dalton’s gut was churning. Murder, not manslaughter. The picture Mallencourt had evoked was of a heartless Lady of Ice, one who would tempt men, only to lead them to their demise.
Regina’s face had gone pale, and Mr Whitley stood. ‘Your Worship, I have the coroner’s report from five years ago, when Lord Mallencourt’s body was found.’ He held it out and said, ‘If there had been any wrongdoing, it would have been noted at that time.’
The magistrate read over the coroner’s notes, his face impassive. His gaze shifted to the new Lord Mallencourt, and he asked, ‘If there were doubts about your brother’s death, why did you not mention them five years earlier?’
Lord Mallencourt cleared his throat. ‘We did not know what happened and trusted the coroner’s report. But a few weeks ago, a witness came forward and contacted my family. Lady Anne claims she was there on the night my older brother died.’
Regina’s face was deathly white, but she remained silent. From the raw fear on her face, Dalton could see she was struggling to hold back tears. He wanted to comfort her, but he could not speak.
The magistrate eyed the young woman sitting nearby. ‘Is this true?’
The young woman stood, her face masking all emotions. ‘It is. For a short while, I was there before they arrived.’
‘And of whom do you speak when you say “they”?’ the magistrate asked.
‘Lady Regina and Lord Mallencourt,’ she answered. Her face appeared stricken, but she did face Regina at last. There was a silent communication between the two of them, but Dalton could not say what the young woman was thinking.
‘And they were returning from a ball?’ the magistrate continued.
‘They were, yes.’
‘Were you present at the same gathering?’ he asked.
‘No, sir. I was not invited.’ Her face flushed, and she looked down at her hands.
‘Why, then, did you go to Lady Regina’s residence if you knew she was not at home?’
Lady Anne’s face reddened. ‘Because I did not wish to be at my home. I often stayed with Lady Regina overnight, and I wanted to talk to her after she returned.’
‘But you knew it was too late to be paying a social call,’ he continued.
‘It was,’ she agreed, ‘but I have come to call on many occasions. I let myself in and went to Regina’s rooms to wait for her. No one saw me.’
‘And you believe you witnessed something related to Lord Mallencourt’s death that night?’ the magistrate questioned.
Lady Anne hesitated. ‘I was not in the same room with them, so I cannot say for certain.’
The attorney stood and said, ‘Your Worship, this is speculation. If she was not in the same room, she cannot even say whether Lord Mallencourt was there. He might have simply driven Lady Regina home and departed.’
‘And did he?’ the magistrate asked Lady Anne.
Her face crumpled, and she shook her head. ‘I—I don’t know. All I know is that...the baron was there that night, and the next day he was dead.’
‘She knows exactly what happened,’ Mallencourt interrupted. ‘Because she has been blackmailing the earl for years. When the earl refused to pay, she came to me.’
Lord Havershire started in his chair, but the attorney sent him a warning look while Dalton held his breath. If the earl admitted the truth, it could cost them everything.
‘Lord Havershire,’ the magistrate said. ‘Were you under the threat of blackmail these five years past?’
The earl regarded each of the people in the room—Lord Mallencourt, Lady Anne, the magistrate, and finally Dalton and Regina.
‘I was, yes,’ he confessed.
Regina’s stomach sank, twisting into nausea. Her father’s admission essentially told the magistrate that they had something to hide, something worth the threat of blackmail. And her fears only magnified.
There could be a trial at the House of Lords—not just for her, but for her father, as well, for covering up Mallencourt’s death.
The attorney sighed and shook his head. ‘Your Worship, I see no reason why we should entertain this conversation any longer. The coroner’s report clearly shows—’
‘I have more questions,’ the magistrate said. He directed his attention to Lady Anne. ‘I could easily have you
