Love's Justice (Entangled Scandalous) (18 page)

Chapter Forty-Two

The day after seeing Emily off, Victoria climbed the steps to the Royal Court of Justice. She held tightly to her father’s arm and tried to prepare for the hours ahead. The thought of seeing Hugh was tempered by the fact that she would also see Stanford. She wore the cloak she had worn to the prince’s party. Its fur cradled her face as his hands had. It gave her courage and kept her from panicking. If the worst happened, she would still have his love.

Reporters from both reputable newspapers and gossip rags took notes as she entered. She held her head up a little higher. They couldn’t hurt her any more than they already had.

“Let me take your cloak, my dear.” George Westwood had removed his own overcoat. He sat just behind the railing that separated the general crowd from the table where the litigants sat.

“No, thank you, Father. I have a slight chill and prefer to keep it on for the moment.”

She sat down and looked around her. She had been here before, but today everything took on new meaning.

On her right was the raised witness box. Would Stanford tell the truth, after he swore he would?

Before her, at her level, was a table for the court clerk. And above him was the bench. Raised maybe four feet above floor level, it no doubt was intended to intimidate litigants. She certainly had been intimidated the first few times she was here.

She realized that what seemed so foreign to her must be terribly familiar to Hugh. He had not entered as yet. A stir at the back of the court caused her to turn.

Lord Stanford had arrived with his barrister. He actually seemed sober and clean. But the smirk on his face left her angry and disturbed. Only she and Hugh knew how unsavory he really was. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

Stanford and his barrister, George Cairns, would share the long wooden table where she was already seated. It was too close for Victoria’s taste. In America, she at least would have been afforded her own table. But this was England. And the rest of her life was to be decided by English law.

Stanford sauntered down the aisle as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Confident, belligerent, he projected the very image of an English peer. She remembered what she had first thought of Hugh. He had seemed haughty and old-fashioned. Prudish and fastidious.

How different he was to her now.

“Please rise.” The clerk’s voice echoed through the room.

The crowd in the courtroom rose. Victoria kept her head down, too distraught to face Hugh, who was entering.

“Mr. Cairns, you may proceed.” She finally glanced at Hugh. Gone was all the tenderness he was capable of, gone was the joy, and gone was any recognition of her at all. She was suddenly abandoned. Lost. She didn’t know what she had expected, but this was not it.

“My lord, the plaintiff presents to the court a simple case of contract law. It is nothing more, nothing less,” Lord Stanford’s barrister began, and all Victoria could think was that it was about so much more.

…

“She flattered me with” —Stanford cleared his throat as if embarrassed to have to address so delicate a subject— “intimate favors.” There was a stir in the courtroom. “She showed no signs of rejecting the terms of the contract. I was taken aback by her refusal to marry. I could only think she wanted to enjoy more men rather than tying herself down to one.” More whispers among the observers. “The document is fair and the conditions of her marriage clear. She cannot now say she never agreed. She must meet the terms whether or not she proceeds with the wedding. It would be unjust to me if she doesn’t forfeit the money.”

If Victoria didn’t know better, she would almost find Stanford’s testimony believable. How could she go about defending herself against his lies?

Her barrister stood to question the witness. “Lord Stanford, do you have anyone who can confirm your allegations that Miss Westwood visited you at your rooms on several occasions for the purpose of an intimate dalliance?”

“I am a gentleman, sir. I was deeply concerned about the young woman’s reputation. I arranged the assignations so her good name would not be lost.”

“So you were concerned about the young woman’s reputation but in this courtroom, you have no qualms about dragging her name through the mire.”

“This is her choice, not mine. The little bitch deserves everything she’s getting and more.”

There was a collective gasp from behind them, mostly from the few women present.

“Is that how you truly see her, Lord Stanford?”

He backtracked. “I don’t think that of most women of my acquaintance, but Miss Westwood comported herself like a whore. If she acts like one, she is one.”

Those in attendance created a furor at the back of the courtroom.

Hugh used his gavel to silence them and then directed comments toward the plaintiff. “I believe it is unnecessary to attack the moral character of the defendant. That you believe her to be in compliance with the agreement the document puts forth is adequate.”

Stanford smirked. He turned to Hugh. “Of course, my lord.

Victoria sat in shock. How could someone lie so in a court of law after swearing to tell the truth? If her reputation was in shreds prior to the trial, it certainly would be beyond repair after Stanford’s lies. She was losing faith.

She wanted the impossible. She wanted Hugh to come to her defense. Wanted him to tell everyone it wasn’t true, that Stanford was a rapist and an abuser. That he needed her money to pay back what he had lost gambling. That he was dissolute and reprehensible. Her honor was being sullied, and it wasn’t even in the court’s interest to defend her against the lies. She fought to understand. Fought to control her growing temper. All of it was so unfair!

Her barrister followed up. “So you are saying you believe Miss Westwood was in agreement with the contract because of so-called dalliances that you cannot prove.”

Stanford remained silent.

“Did you see her signature anywhere on the document?”

“No. But the agreement was between her father and me.”

“So you believe a woman has no rights in these matters. She is chattel to be bought, sold, perhaps traded on the open market like a sow?” Again the audience reacted to the questioning with an undercurrent of whispered comments.

“The money wasn’t hers to begin with. The settlement was from her father. She had no rights.”

“Ah, you are a solicitor now yourself. Have you studied the law, Lord Stanford?”

“No.”

“Well, then I think these matters are best left to those who have an intimate knowledge of the law. The court has already decided Miss Wentworth shall be considered
femme sole
for these proceedings. To consider her otherwise would not allow you to sue her. You cannot have it both ways, sir. That is all, my lord. I am finished with this witness.”

Victoria sat numb. She barely looked up as her father took the stand.

…

“Would you not agree, Mr. Westwood, that you had no valid right to enter into a contract that violated your daughter’s rights, that sold her like chattel to whomever would have her?”

“I had no right to make the contract. No right at all.”

Manning addressed Hugh. “My lord, it would seem the contract would be invalid on its face. Slavery and anything tainted by the concept that human beings are commodities to be bought and sold is illegal under the laws of England.”

“Thank you, Mr. Manning. The Bench is well aware of the laws of England regarding slavery.”

Victoria studied Hugh. She believed she knew him, but at this moment, when it mattered, she couldn’t read his face, couldn’t determine his leanings. She had said she loved him. That it didn’t matter what he decided as long as it wasn’t influenced by Stanford’s threats. It was time to trust him. If she couldn’t trust him, how could she say she loved him?

Specialists in contract law then testified on both sides of the issue. The issue of
femme sole
was argued again based on George Westwood’s testimony.

The day dragged on and exhaustion threatened. She closed her eyes and laid her face against the fur collar of her cloak. She felt his love then. He had been right. The cloak was her protection from the turmoil of the trial. She thanked him in her heart. He had known what was ahead of her and had given her the courage to face it and the comfort to endure.

And yet the worst was yet to come. Tomorrow she would have to testify. She would have to be unemotional and logical.

There would be no room for panic, no room for hesitancy. This was in support of everything she claimed was unfair about the laws of England concerning women.

If women deserved respect, they would have to earn it. She intended to do no less than make her case and garner some respect for all the women who were injured by similar agreements. She looked up. For a moment her eyes met Hugh’s. For a moment he was there—the Hugh she loved. And then he was gone.

“Because of the late hour, I will adjourn this court for the day,” Hugh said. “We will begin tomorrow sharply at nine.”

He left the bench. To Victoria, he seemed calm and undisturbed by what had transpired. It couldn’t be true, but it broke her heart nonetheless.

It was all on her shoulders. He could not help her. She would have to make her own case and live with the results.

Chapter Forty-Three

The cavernous main hall of the Royal Courts of Justice was packed with reporters and observers. Victoria was stupefied by the sheer numbers who had taken an interest in her case. She wore the same cloak she had worn yesterday. She no longer cared if it was fashionable or not. She ignored the newspaper reports of the trial and her demeanor.

Today, Stanford had arrived before her with his counsel. She was buoyed by the fact that several women of her acquaintance from the University of London were among those in attendance. They smiled in support. Their presence again reminded her the trial wasn’t just about her, but about women’s rights in general. She had to be strong today even if she faced vile accusations. She also noted several men who seemed, by their dress and demeanor, to be out of place in such an austere gathering. They looked like ruffians or bully boys. She wondered if they had any connection to the rumors about Lord Stanford’s debts.

They waited longer than usual for Hugh to appear. Her heart beat loudly in her ears with the delay. She put her hands up to the fur of her cloak and held it closely to her face. It took only a moment for its effects to work their magic. She sat up a bit straighter and turned toward Stanford with a smile. Two could play his little game.

…

Hugh had spent a good part of the night reading. The case was not an easy one. It involved several aspects of English law.

It involved his life as well. He tried not to think about that, but it inevitably interrupted him. Seeing her in the courtroom, unable to acknowledge her, he feared she would doubt him. What they had was so ephemeral it risked being lost in the days since they had been separated.

She had worn the cloak he had asked her to wear. Out of the corner of his eye, he had seen her lift the fur to her face. She had remembered, acknowledging their bond in a way only the two them would understand.

If she had asked him today which way he would decide, he still couldn’t have told her. But she had given him the freedom to rule as dictated by the law. He admired that in her. She was brave. Brave and intelligent and understanding. He didn’t want his ruling appealed. Even more, he didn’t want his ruling overturned on appeal. Whatever he decided, it would be based on the law and precedent and would be ironclad. Even if it meant he had to decide against her.

He had been poring over law books and transcripts of more recent trials that dealt with similar issues. English law didn’t always agree with his ideas of justice. But he always prided himself on adhering to those laws and precedents. The laws themselves sometimes came after legal decisions were made by the courts. It was an ever-changing system, but it was one he had sworn to uphold.

“Dennison!”

His clerk came on the run.

“I’m ready.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Once his clerk had finished dressing him, he walked slowly down the corridor to the courtroom. She had to believe. And he had to believe in her.

…

“You may proceed.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Mr. Manning said. “We call Miss Victoria Westwood to testify.”

Victoria took a moment to remove her cloak. It was important she defend herself. She didn’t doubt him.

“You have read the terms of the contract signed between your father and Lord Stanford?” her barrister asked.

“Yes, I have.”

“When were you made aware of the contract your father had signed?”

“Only after it had been signed by both parties. My father informed me of it on the day he left to return to New York City.”

“Did you say or do anything prior to seeing the document that might lead to your father to think you would be amenable to such an agreement?”

“Quite the contrary. I expressed my disbelief that he could have even considered such a proposal.”

“Would he have any reason to believe you might, on the contrary, be horrified such a document existed?”

“He has known for many years my allegiance lies with those who would break down the remaining barriers for women. Not only the right to choose a life partner, but to educate ourselves and to vote. It is only when we can vote that we will truly have the power to change the laws that restrain us from offering any contribution to society beyond wife and mother.”

Several men among the onlookers hooted in derision. They were quickly gaveled down.

“Is it true, Miss Westwood, that you are enrolled at the University of London? One of only a handful of women in attendance there?”

“Yes, that’s true. And today I stand in place of all of those women and for all women. The laws cannot remain biased. We will no longer stand for it.”

Several of the women in the crowd stood in encouragement and clapped.

“So you are saying your father was clearly aware of your views before he drew up the agreement?”

“Yes, if he had listened, he would have known.” Victoria looked over to her father. She hated to hurt him, but it had to be said. He did not flinch but rather smiled in support.

“So the contract and all its ramifications should be invalidated by the fact that one of the signatories had no right to enter into such an agreement on your behalf?”

“It should be invalidated because we women are not cattle. You do not check our teeth and thump our rumps and sell us to whomever will pay the highest price.”

Whistling and catcalls were matched with clapping.

“If I had done that to Lord Stanford, I would have found him wanting. He is a drunkard and a gambler who chooses to enrich himself by enslaving another human being. It can’t be done. There can be no law to justify such an action. Women should be able to hold land and money in their own right. It is long past the day when we should be acknowledged as equal to men in our minds and in our will.”

The courtroom was in an uproar. Finally, Hugh gaveled them into silence.

He turned to Stanford’s barrister. “Do you have questions for the witness, Mr. Cairns?”

The barrister rose at the table. “Do you deny offering Lord Stanford favors of an intimate nature?”

“I not only deny it, I abhor the very idea.” She glared at Stanford. “It was he who forced his attentions on me.”

“Do you have any proof to offer the court on this accusation?”

A smirk crossed Stanford’s face. She was enraged.

“No. Only my word as a woman who would never sell herself. Do I sound like such a woman? I would be selling not only myself but all women who are eager for respect and dignity. I could not do such a thing.”

“Are you a virgin, Miss Westwood?”

Again the crowded courtroom erupted.

“I don’t think that is relevant to the question at hand,” Victoria asserted.

“So you refuse to defend your innocence in the regard?”

“I do not have to defend or deny it.”

The gavel came down hard, startling Victoria.

“This is a question of a contract. The status of the defendant’s virginity is not appropriate,” Hugh said.

“So it is your word against a peer of England. I don’t think there is any question as to who is more believable.” With that, Stanford’s barrister sat down.

Victoria seethed. That he was a peer and a man did not ensure his truthfulness. And the day was coming very soon when that would be apparent to everyone.

“Is this, then, your final witness?” Hugh asked the two barristers.

They nodded.

“I will hear closing arguments tomorrow.”