Page 60 of To Save a Scoundrel’s Soul

“Your Grace. Fitzsimmons.” Talybridge nodded curtly, a renewed purple flush painting his cheeks. “Your presence here is surprising.”

“Whereas yours, of course, isn’t,” replied Ashington in a pleasant low voice, quiet enough to exclude all but the gathered friends. “I’m here to witness a spectacular fall from grace. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Fitzsimmons clapped Talybridge on the shoulder, a little too hard. “The only surprising part is that the man in question has remained on this side of the dock all these years.” He grinned wickedly. “Though that may soon change.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Never mind.” Leaning forwards, Fitzsimmons pressed his mouth to Talybridge’s ear. “A private word, if you will, Lord Talybridge.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

HEAVY BLACK ROBES clinging to his spare frame, Judge William Campbell-Allen swept into the Old Court, a domain he’d presided over since 1815. Silvering whiskers cascaded down either side of his mouth, curling like wisps of smoke into the folds of his collar. They were the same silvery shade as his peruke, an architectural marvel of towering white curls. The singular, authoritative glance he threw around the courtroom, seemingly encapsulating every single person within, silenced the chatter in an instant.

Mickey’s heart plummeted to his boots. If that look was anything to go by, the man would happily deliver a death sentence for an offence as trivial as a misplaced button on a waistcoat.

Valentin stood accused of a hell of a lot more than that.

With a deliberately cultivated air of solemnity, Campbell-Allen made his opening remarks.

“Your Grace, my lords, my ladies. Gentlemen of the Jury. You are here today to witness the fair trial of Valentin Beauregard of Verdille, France, whereupon you twelve men shall determine his guilt pertaining to the offence of Grand Larceny.

“Valentin Beauregard was apprehended on December 31st, 1825, in the grounds of a property belonging to the Marquess of Talybridge. He was subsequently accused of the theft of goods from a locked safe in a downstairs study of the same property.”

The judge peered at his notes. It occurred to Mickey that the omission of Valentin’s title was a deliberate attempt to lessen his lover even further in the eyes of the jury.

“Firstly,” Campbell-Allen continued, “a necklace constructed of a gold chain and decorated with diamonds and sapphires with a combined value estimated at twenty thousand pounds.” He paused, frowning disapprovingly as a ripple of excitement echoed around the courtroom, bouncing off the high vaulted ceiling. “Secondly, a set of gold earbobs constructed of two sapphires estimated at a value of five thousand pounds, matching the necklace. The total value of items stolen is therefore valued at twenty-five thousand pounds.”

In the dock, Valentin’s face remained impassive as he listened intently to the incomprehensible sums of money.

“Furthermore, the defendant is accused on a second count of the lesser crime of damage to property, also belonging to the Marquess of Talybridge, specifically damage to a large glass window and the surrounding frame. He is also accused on a third count of engaging in activities suggestive of intent to commit a crime—namely running from the scene of a crime and being found in possession of a picklock key fitting a safe, also belonging to the Marquess of Talybridge. The safe is situated in the room whereupon the window was found to be broken and, on the night in question, was discovered unlocked and open. The items of jewellery previously described were missing from within. Over the course of this case against Mr Beauregard, you will hear evidence regarding his arrest whilst fleeing the scene of the crime, his possession of a picklock specifically manufactured to open a safe belonging to the Marquess of Talybridge, a description of an accomplice who remains at large, and that the priceless items of jewellery remain unfound.”

Valentin was hung, drawn, and quartered before Talybridge even opened his mouth. Suffused with heat, Mickey loosened his cravat.

“Stay strong,” Rossingley whispered as Mickey stifled a hopeless groan. “If you imagined Beauregard would receive a fair trial, then you have found yourself in the wrong courthouse. We must let this thing unroll as the judge intends for a while. The great unwashed behind us are here to see a handsome French vicomte hang.” He smiled grimly. “Whereas we, my darling, are here to see a dead duchess avenged and a handsome French vicomte walk free. And, trust me, those latter two scenarios are not mutually exclusive events.”

Mickey prayed to God he was right.

“My lord.” Campbell-Allen acknowledged Talybridge with a deferential incline of his head. “You have dispensed with your legal representation?”

“I deemed it unnecessary,” Talybridge responded highhandedly. “They tend to slow proceedings down, do they not?”

Music to the judge’s ears. He nodded his approval. “Quite. In which case, my lord, I invite you to call your first witness.”

“Indeed. My butler, Havens.”

As the servant scuttled to the witness stand, Mickey shot a glance at Valentin. Once more, he muttered to his guards, only one eye on the trim fellow arranging himself at the stand. He seemed calm, at peace even. Whereas Mickey’s every inhaled gasp felt tortured.

“Your full account of the night of the 31st, if you will, Havens,” prompted Talybridge.

Mickey’s heart sank further still as Havens began his tale. As befitting the head butler of a marquess, the man spoke with a quiet assurance, every sparse word landing precisely where it was meant to, smoothing across any edges of doubt.

“I am head butler in the employ of the Marquess of Talybridge, a role I have held for twenty-two years. At approximately a quarter past eight on the eve of the New Year, I was alerted by a housemaid that a window had been broken in the marquess’s study, and that two men were making their escape through the rear garden. I gave chase immediately, calling, ‘Stop thief!’ and caught up with them both in time to observe one of the gentlemen assist the other over a stone wall into the mews beyond. Though the second gentleman escaped via the mews, I apprehended the first gentleman—with the aid of several other members of the household and two invited guests—until the Guard was summoned.”

“And is the gentleman you apprehended in court today?” enquired Talybridge.

“He is, my lord.” Havens raised his finger, pointing to the dock. “He is that gentleman standing there.”

“Objection,” called Valentin lightly, cutting through a wave of muted chattering from the gallery. “The garden was in darkness. I doubt one could see farther than one’s nose.”