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It was at this point that Sir William rose and said, “Do you affirm that Miss Dunsenay encouraged my client’s attentions?”

“Well, yes. It was obvious she was mightily taken with him, but then, that was nothing new. All the females in London were on the scramble for him.”

“Thank you, Lord Barrington.” Sir William sat and made a note.

Tindal, somewhat discomposed by Sir William’s interruption, continued his questioning. “And what, in your opinion, was the marquess’s reaction to Miss Dunsenay’s interest?”

“He flirted with her blatantly. We all saw it and commented,” said Barrington.

“Thank you, my lord, that is all. Unless my learned friend has any more questions?”

Sir William rose. “Thank you, Sir Nicholas. As a matter of fact, I do.” He cleared his throat and turned his gaze upon Lord Barrington. “My lord, how much opportunity did my client have to pursue a flirtation with a girl not out in society? Surely Miss Dunsenay was too young to be mingling with a party of male guests, even if the event was at her home.”

“She had plenty. She was included in the hunt and sat down to dinner with us. In fact, I’m surprised to know that she was only eighteen. We all assumed she was older.”

“So, in your opinion, Lord Barrington, would you think it reasonable that the marquess thought the girl was a young woman of perhaps twenty?”

“Yes, perfectly reasonable.”

“Thank you, my lord, that is all.”

Barrington bowed and returned to his seat.

Tindal glared at Sir William, who smiled blandly back at him, and he called his second witness, Lord Revesby, who was also a guest of the Dunsenays that July. Lord Revesby’s testimony backed up Barrington’s and Sir William asked him the same questions and got the same answers.

Tindal’s third witness was Lady Mostyn. The lady’s performance was masterly. Dabbing tears from her ravaged cheeks, she denounced Ravenshaw as a libertine, a scoundrel, and a murderer.

Her bitter tirade was brought to an abrupt close by Sir William rising and addressing her stridently. “Madam, I put to you that everything you have said is balderdash!”

The lady stiffened in shock. But before she could say anything, he barreled on.

“Is it true that your eighteen-year-old daughter, who was not out yet in society, was permitted to participate in the events of the house party at which these gentlemen and my client were present?”

“My Charis was an accomplished horsewoman; she always rode to hounds with her father since she was twelve.”

“And was she accompanied on these forays by a chaperone?”

“She was accompanied by her father. She needed no chaperone.”

“And is it true that she sat down to dinner with a table full of gentlemen?”

“And myself, yes.”

“And how exactly was the marquess allegedly meant to have compromised your daughter, Lady Mostyn?”

“There is nothing alleged about it! He did. My husband found them in bed together!”

This bald statement sent a shock wave of murmurs around the room and Jerome willed himself not to blush guiltily.

“And when was this, Lady Mostyn?”

“On the evening of the 11th of July, 1812,” she said, swallowing and dabbing at her cheeks again. “It was the last time I saw her alive.” Her voice dissolved into sobs.

“So did you see your daughter in bed with the marquess?”

The lady sniffed and blew her nose. “No. But my husband told me of it and the conversation he had with Ravenshaw and the fact that Ravenshaw refused to marry my poor innocent girl.”

“That is hearsay, Lady Mostyn, and not permitted as evidence. Your Lordships must disregard it. Lady Mostyn, is it true that your husband is dead, is it not?”