Page 55 of Becoming Lady Dalton
Thomas Belden, similarly bewigged, sat alone at one table. His face was an unreadable mask.
“Mrs. Viola Cartwright, the charge against you is grand larceny. Specifically, of stealing a gold and turquoise stomacher, a gold enameled bracelet, and a custom-made pocket watch of great personal value. The thefts have taken place at several society balls held at various locations including the Woolryte house on December ninth. Your presence was similarly noted under suspicious circumstances at a theatrical performance in Drury Lane. If convicted, the punishment for this crime may be imprisonment, transportation, or death. How do you plead?”
Viola swallowed and glanced at Belden. He nodded.
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
The clerk called the first witness. Lord Woolryte took the stand. Viola tasted bile as he described her person, her presence, and his reasons for suspecting her of the crime.
“Mrs. Cartwright has been present at the location of every theft this season. While we’ve no direct witness to a theft, I possess a statement from a witness to further prove my case. I ask my barrister to read a statement submitted by Mrs. James.”
A bewigged man conferred with a blond woman sitting beside him. “Mrs. James of Cheapside recounts that she witnessed the accused at The Theatre-Royal, Drury Lane, on the night of December twelfth, moments after her valuable gold bracelet was taken from her person.”
“Is that all?” the magistrate demanded.
“I call Mr. Mackey, of Bow Street, to testify on Lord Woolryte’s behalf.”
Viola swallowed. Belden had warned her that merely being accused of a crime put her at a disadvantage. The scale and value of the thefts meant that everyone was looking for a scapegoat, and she was the goat. There would be no hour in the pillory for crimes of this magnitude.
“Mr. Mackey, approach the bench.” The magistrate peered down at him. “What have you to say in terms of evidence, sir.”
“I wish to present evidence as to motive, Your Honor.”
It was the same man who’d stood over Reed’s shoulder, threatening her as she was held in Old Bailey.
“Proceed.” The judge waved his hand. Viola almost laughed, out of sheer panic, at the sight. Though there was nothing especially humorous about it, the excessive courtliness of his gesture struck her as absurd.
As was this entire situation.
“Mrs. Cartwright has presented herself as a widow ever since arriving in London, presuming upon her grandmother’s good graces and even going so far as to entertain the affections of Admiral Saxon who courted her with the express intention of making her his wife. Had the match proceeded, Mrs. Cartwright would have committed bigamy.”
Viola closed her eyes and raised her face heavenward. Lord deliver her from that buffoonish admiral. Fortunately, the magistrate possessed a modicum of fair-mindedness.
“Mr. Mackey,” the bewigged, robed man interrupted, “did Mrs. Cartwright engage in a bigamous marriage or not?”
“She did not. Mrs. Cartwright refused Admiral Saxon’s courtship.”
“Then I fail to understand the relevance of your statement beyond slandering Mrs. Cartwright’s character. Strike the testimony.”
Mr. Mackey’s hard face turned grim. He shot a glare of pure hatred toward her. What had she ever done to the man? Viola narrowed her eyes and held his gaze.
“After fraudulently claiming to be a widow, Mrs. Cartwright asked for money from her grandmother for the stated purpose of buying gifts and sundries for her son. She instead used this money to house him at the Earl of Briarcliff’s new townhouse, thus abusing the trust of another relative.”
A murmur went through the crowd at the sound of her brother-in-law’s name. The Wild Lord. Viola sucked and bit her lip. She’d come to London to help smooth the way for them, yet all she’d accomplished was to drag the Briarcliff name through the muck of London’s streets. Viola shifted on the stand.
Yet, Edward had come to help her anyway. He seemed convinced of her innocence. Warm gratitude was all that kept her upright.
“I fail to see the relevance to our case, Mr. Mackey.” The magistrate peered down his long nose at the man. Mackey visibly swallowed.
“She stole the jewels to fund her family, sir.”
“Thank you for rendering your opinion, Mr. Mackey. Are there any further statements to be read in support of Lord Woolryte’s accusations?” There were not. The magistrate gave Belden a nod to proceed with her defense.
“Your Honor, before the court today stands a woman falsely accused of theft,” he began. “As my esteemed colleagues have heard from Mr. Mackey, Mrs. Cartwright is indeed a married woman, one who presented herself as a widow, for her husband was long believed dead. She believed him deceased and hired Mr. Reed of Bow Street to discover his whereabouts. It is a matter of bad luck, not a crime, that her husband was too ill upon his release from prison to rejoin his family.”
“Is there a point, Mr. Belden?” the magistrate interjected.
“Mrs. Cartwright never set out to deceive anyone. She has no motive. I can prove the lady asked for the money from her grandmother. While she has had means, so has half of London. Why, I myself attended the theater that evening. Perhaps I am the thief.”
