Betina Krahn (43 page)

When court resumed, Mr. Crofton called Lord Cole Mandeville to give testimony, and Cole made his way down from the gallery to the witness box.

“I was pressed into the court’s service as ‘overseer’ of Miss Duncan’s financial dealings,” he said by way of explaining his role with regard to Madeline’s enterprise. “I was to approve or disallow large purchases and generally ‘protect her from her magnanimous impulses,’ which I took to mean that I was to prevent her from spending too much or unwisely.”

“And were you to keep the court informed of the progress on her venture?”

“I was to send weekly reports to the court … and did.”

“Please tell the court your impression of Miss Duncan’s Ideal Garment Company when you first arrived in the village of St. Crispin.”

“The building was old and in need of significant work. She had spent considerable money on new windows for light and ventilation, and had engaged—at some expense—an engineering firm to pipe running water into each of the cottages in the village. She had also hired an engineer to develop and install machinery for cutting cloth and for powering numbers of sewing machines. Carpenters were at work repairing the factory and building worktables needed for production. Much work had been done, but there was a great deal yet to do.”

“And what about Miss Duncan’s workers? Did she have employees?”

“A number of them. New workers and families were arriving daily. Miss Duncan met each one with a supply of food to tide them over as they settled in.”

“Did you have occasion to speak with Miss Duncan regarding her expenditures?”

“I did. I questioned the wisdom of providing so much for her employees. She insisted that it was only humane to offer them assistance for the first week or so. I believed it ill advised at first. I later came to see that it saved her workers considerable time procuring food and supplies in those first days.”

“Upon seeing how her policy contributed to the functioning of the factory, you changed your mind,” Crofton rephrased it. “And were there other things you changed your mind about as time went on?”

Cole related a number of issues, from the need for a water system to the establishment of a temporary schoolroom for the workers’ children, which illustrated that he had come over time to respect Madeline’s views and to see Ideal’s progress as a direct result of her thorough planning and tireless efforts.

“I learned that she had a clearly defined schedule and a timed plan for producing, marketing, and advertising her garments. I saw her hold meetings with her employees and solicit their ideas and cooperation. I watched her make decisions and grapple with problems as they arose—and found her to be bright, thorough, surprisingly competent, and uncommonly dedicated to her work.” He glanced at her with as much dispassion as he could manage.

“She frequently worked past sunset, well after her workers had gone home. She missed meals and sleep, and generously offered to design and supply goods for all the women to sew garments for their children. And when—because a number of the seamstresses she had hired were married to the cutters she had hired—she was inundated with squalling babies,
she opened a little-used storage room, furnished it, and arranged to have girls from the neighboring village come and take care of the youngest children during the day.”

“So you came to see Miss Duncan’s enterprise as a viable business concern.”

“I did. I still do,” Cole said.

“Please tell the court how much profit Miss Duncan’s business has generated for her,” Crofton instructed, hanging his hands on his robe.

“I believe there has been no profit as yet.” Cole glanced at Sir Henry, then at Madeline, and hastened to add, “But few enterprises of this magnitude would show a profit at this stage of development. There is considerable interest in Ideal’s products. Liberty, in Regent Street, for example, has shown considerable interest in placing an order for Ideal clothing. If this proceeding had been held as originally scheduled—after a three-month interval—she would have shown significant sales, possibly a profit.”

“And if you were asked to advise the court in the matter … to suggest whether or not Miss Duncan should be given leave to continue development of her company and to control her own fortune … what would you say?”

“I would say, without reservation, that she should be permitted to continue. Her understanding of what it takes to develop and run a business concern has grown considerably in the last six weeks. I believe that Ideal will someday be a sound business, known for its humane working conditions as well as its high-quality products.”

Madeline listened to Cole’s words with love and pride swelling in her heart. He had told the truth, and yet managed to make it sound as though she had progressed considerably in a very short time. And indeed, she had. How could anyone find fault with his balanced and objective account?

Crofton thanked Cole and Sir Henry, then retired. Sir Henry offered Farnsworth the opportunity to examine the witness and he leapt at the chance. Swaggering toward the
witness box, he grasped his robe and gave Cole a thorough look before taking aim.

“Tell the court, Lord Mandeville, what was your opinion of Miss Duncan’s competence when you first arrived in St. Crispin?”

“I believed her to be naive and in some instances misguided in her efforts.”

“You were skeptical?” Farnsworth questioned, striking a pose.

“I was.”

“Would it be fair to say that you were
more
than skeptical?”

“I don’t think so,” Cole said, knowing his former associate’s badgering technique in court and working to control his rising annoyance.

“Would it not be fair to say that you characterized Miss Duncan as a
madwoman
? That you frequently referred to her as ‘Mad Madeline’?” Farnsworth hurried back to the table and picked up a document.

Cole straightened and his jaw clenched. “If I used that term, it was in jest.”

“And were you jesting when you wrote in your first weekly report to the court”—Farnsworth looked at the paper in his hand—“and I quote:
‘She is a madwoman … get me out of here!’?”

A murmur ran through the gallery, but the spectators were no more surprised than Cole. He had written that facetious assessment in the heat of anger and the grip of insufferable pomposity. How the hell did Farnsworth—

“Is this or is this not the letter you wrote to your uncle, Sir William Rayburn, the justice who presided over the first hearing of this suit?” He thrust the paper into Cole’s face, and when Cole stared at it, unblinking, he prodded, “Yes or no, sir. Is this your writing? Are these your words?”

“They are,” Cole was forced to admit. “But they were
written at the spur of the moment … and in a … facetious mood.”

“Facetiousness
in a report to a duly constituted court of law is not acceptable, your lordship.” He turned to Sir Henry. “The defense offers into evidence this letter.”

“Where did you get that letter, Farnsworth?” Cole demanded, gripping the rail.

“I’ll tell you where he got it—he stole it out of my chambers!” Sir William thundered from the front row of the gallery. When they looked up, he was on his feet, his face scarlet and his fist shaking.

“Order!” Sir Henry banged his gavel furiously and pointed it at Sir William. “I shall not tolerate such outbursts in my court!”

“Don’t be a dolt, Henry, the man’s a thief—or at very least in league with one!”

“Sit down, Rayburn!” Sir Henry thundered back. “One more outburst and I shall have you
removed
!” He turned to his clerk and held out his hand for the letter.

Madeline recovered enough to tug on Crofton’s sleeve, and he objected.

Sir Henry had both counsels approach the bench, and after some consultation had them step back. “The letter is entered into evidence. Any other letters will be considered one at a time, as they are authenticated.”

“Other letters?” Cole said, turning to Sir Henry. “I object, Your Honor.”

“You cannot object, Mandeville, you’re a witness,” Sir Henry responded in a choleric mood. “The rules of the courtroom have not changed. Proceed, Farnsworth.”

“You have testified in this court that at first you believed Miss Duncan to be ‘naive’ and somewhat ‘misguided.’ ” Farnsworth smiled. “But, in fact, your feelings on the subject were quite a bit stronger. Is it not true that in your second report to Sir William you stated that she was ’a stubborn, idealistic little fool who lacks sense enough to
come in out of the rain’? You further informed your uncle that she was ‘giving away food, giving away free clothes’ and that she had ‘hired a passel of
ignoramuses …
two of whom are digging a hole all the way to China in her rear yard.’ ” He dangled the paper he had been reading before Cole’s eyes. “Is this or is this not the very letter you sent to your uncle?”

“It is,” Cole said. A muscle flexed visibly in his jaw.

“Another little jest?” Farnsworth said nastily, then hurried on. “And you have further testified that as time went on, your opinion of Miss Duncan and her abilities as a manager of workers rose. Well, it hardly could have
fallen,
” he said, flashing a smile at the gallery and drawing a round of laughter and a banging gavel. “How closely did you scrutinize Miss Duncan’s finances? Did you examine her books?”

“No.” Cole reddened slightly. “My function was to oversee, not to perform a clerk’s work.”

“Then did you at least review and authorize each expenditure?”

“Only the larger ones … of which there were not many,” Cole said.

“Truly? If that was the case, then why were you prompted to write to your uncle: ‘The place is a bottomless pit, into which St. Madeline nobly unburdens herself of her wealth. Each day there seems to be another crisis requiring a sizable outlay of coin … the most recent involving the hiring of baby-minders to see to the women workers’ children so that she may have the privilege of paying them to work on clothing for the little wretches to wear. She’s an incurable soft touch and I’ve grown tired of the incessant naysaying required to keep her solvent’?”

There was another murmur in the courtroom. Out of practice and cast in the unfamiliar role of a witness, Cole had been caught off his game. Now he jolted back into form and answered a question that hadn’t been asked. “I decided to eliminate the burden of requiring her to get approval for capital
expenditures because I wanted to let her make those decisions herself.”

“You wanted the woman you called an idealistic fool to make her own decisions?” Farnsworth focused intently on him. “In spite of her frequent and growing expenditures on a factory that was fated never to produce a single product, you gave Miss Duncan the strings of her purse. You abandoned your duty to oversee Miss Duncan’s expenditures, Lord Mandeville. What I want to know is why?”

“I believe I have said. I thought her to be capable of spending her own money. And I believe it has yet to be established that the Ideal Garment Company is incapable of producing—”

“Are you certain there was not another motive involved?” Farnsworth looked to Sir Henry, to the counsel tables, then to the gallery. “Why would a man wish to aid a woman in emptying her coffers?” He turned on Cole with a daggerlike gaze. “Unless it was perhaps to curry favor. Were you ‘grooming’ Miss Duncan?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then why did you give her the strings of her purse?” Farnsworth demanded fiercely, his neck veins bulging. “Was it not because you hoped to benefit materially from her misguided and indiscriminate generosity?”

“No,” Cole said emphatically.

“Was it not because you wanted to get your hands on the rest of her money?”

“No!”

“Was it not to take advantage of the young woman yourself?”

“No,” Cole roared back, “it was because I fell in love with her!”

A murmur of excitement raced through the court as Farnsworth recoiled. Clearly, that answer, vehemently delivered, was not what he had anticipated. But a heartbeat later, he smiled.

“How admirably romantic of you, Lord Mandeville. You were willing to allow the woman to ruin herself financially
because you fell in love wih her
. No more questions, Your Honor.”

“It was a damnable fiasco,” Cole growled in the carriage on the way back to Madeline’s house in Bloomsbury. “A performance that would have embarrassed the greenest junior on the last bench in the lowest court.” He glanced at Madeline, who was facing the window.

“You couldn’t have known they would have those letters,” she said without looking at him.

He could feel Davenport’s eyes on him as well and ran a hand over his face. Madeline had every right to be upset at hearing herself described in such unflattering terms. He waited until they reached her house and they were alone to continue.

“Madeline, I apologize. I wrote to Sir William whenever I was annoyed, which was a frequent state of affairs those first days in St. Crispin. For what it’s worth, I do believe that you are competent and capable of managing your own affairs.”

“Then that makes you a minority of one in the entire city of London.”

“Don’t you mean two?” he said, catching her gaze, then her waist.

She gave in as he wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I don’t think so. I’m not certain I would trust me with my own affairs just now, much less the fate and livelihood of two dozen families.”

“Well, then let me believe in you for both of us,” he said, a pained look that she didn’t see on his face. “Borrow my faith in you, angel. You’ve more than earned it.”