Page 69 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
The scoundrel dared not oppose her uncle with all the attention directed at him, and he allowed them to pass.
“Who was that man?” Elizabeth whispered in her grandmother’s ear.
“The baronet Catherine married had a son from a previous marriage, and that was he. The Campbells have been shunned in good society ever since the counterfeit became known. I suppose the young man blames Catherine for his misfortunes.”
That certainly explained a great deal, and Elizabeth could not but be grateful for Mr Darcy’s timely rescue at Lady Jersey’s ball. Mr Campbell’s intent had likely not been to force her to wed him but to destroy her reputation. Thank heavens for Mr Darcy!
They found their seats in the first row and waited for the trial to begin.
The court’s Mr Baron Graham opened the case. “Lady Campbell was tried by the second Middlesex Jury before Mr Baron Hotham. The court proceeded to pass sentence as follows. Guilty, death.”
The courtroom erupted in a melee of shouts before the judge called the room to order. He had to threaten to evict them all before the spectators quieted.
Fiona Alcorn was sworn.
“I am Fiona Alcorn. I was Lady Campbell’s lady’s maid and had accompanied her on her visit to Mrs MacLeod on that fateful morning. Upon our return, Viscount Crawford, now Lord Matlock, the magistrate Mr Castleton, and the officer Robert Dawson were cataloguing a number of items I had never seen before.”
“How long had you been in Lady Campbell’s employ?”
“Nearly two years.”
“Describe to the jury what you witnessed in the dressing room or any other chamber at Lady Campbell’s disposal.”
“I never saw anything of note. There was the usual attire, some jewellery, and shoes. Cosmetics and the like. She did not smoke the pipe,” she assured the court with disgust. “Nor had I seen the metal, the vials with aqua-fortis, or moulds ever before in her possession.”
“What about Egyptian artefacts? A scarab or any other jewellery?”
“She had none,” the maid replied with conviction.
“The prisoner pleaded she was with child. I see that a jury of matrons were sworn in, who returned with a verdict the forewoman delivered. In their opinion, if she was with child, it was very young, for she had not felt the quickening.”
“I believe Lady Campbell spoke the truth, but it was as the matrons declared, too young to have quickened.”
“Why did you not witness, madam?” Lord Glentworth’s barrister thundered.
“I was never called, and the distance from Dollar to London was quite out of my reach. Immediately after Lady Campbell’s arrest, I was offered a position with the Duchess of Argyll. You could not expect me to refuse, though it has weighed heavily upon me these past three-and-twenty years that she was burnt at the stake. I dare say if her innocence was not enough to save her, a child should have been.”
The crowd murmured their acquiescence whilst Elizabeth gasped in horror and turned to her grandmother. “She was burnt alive?”
“No, Elizabeth. They strangled her first, then waited half an hour to be certain she was dead before they lit the fire.”
“You were there?”
“Certainly. I could not abandon my child at her most trying moment. We were all there, your father and Henry, to offer what we could of solace and prayer. She was so frightened I hardly kept my composure.”
Elizabeth felt tears well in her eyes. “How you must have suffered!”
“I did not suffer—I grieved, I raged, and I felt bereft. I still do at times. But I could not allow myself to wallow in misery. I had a bereaved son to care for, and soon after an agglomeration of granddaughters to dote upon. Later, my brother needed me to keep his house. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to be of use to my dear relations. The loss is permanent, but others filled the gaping void, little by little, until the sorrow became bearable.”
Miss Alcorn left the stand, and Lord Matlock was called and sworn in.
The earl cleared his throat. “My presence was requested by the local magistrate who wanted me to join him as an independent witness to his search of the lady’s private quarters. We entered her bedchamber but found nothing of note. Proceeding to Lady Campbell’s dressing room, we found that she was in the act of making shillings and sixpences.”
“Why did a rich lass make sixpences when she could’ve made ten-pound notes?” someone mumbled amongst the spectators.
Lord Matlock disregarded the question and continued his narrative. “We confiscated the moulds, two tobacco pipes for melting the metal, copper, pewter, tin, lead, aqua-fortis, sandpaper, cork, a polishing board, and other finishing implements like crumbled Cheshire cheese used to colour the coins to make them look old.”
“Did you question why you found proof of coining when she was accused of counterfeiting Egyptian artefacts?”
