Alexandra took a shaky breath, still hiding her face.
"She won't testify," she said with a long sniff. "Shecan't. If she does they'll dismiss her - and she has nowhere to go. You mustn't ask her. She'll have to deny it, and that will only make it worse."
He smiled bleakly. "Don't worry about that. I never ask questions unless I already know the answer - or, to be more precise, unless I know what the witness will say, true or untrue."
"You can't expect her to ruin herself."
"What she chooses to do is not your decision."
"But you can't," she protested, pulling away from him and lifting her head to face him. "She'd starve."
"And what will happen to Cassian? Not to mention you."
She said nothing.
"Cassian will grow up to repeat the pattern of his father," he said ruthlessly, because it was the only thing he knew which would be more than she could bear, regardless of Miss Buchan's fete. "Will you permit that? The shame and guilt all over again - and another wretched, humiliated child, another woman suffering as you do now?"
"I can't fight you," she said so quietly he could barely hear her. She sat huddled over herself, as if the pain were deep in the center of her and somehow she could fold herself around it.
"You are not fighting me," he said urgently. "You don't need to do anything now but sit in the dock, looking as you do, and remembering, as well as your guilt, the love of your child - and why you did it. I will tell the jury your feelings, trust me!"
"Do whatever you will, Mr. Rathbone. I don't think I have strength left to make judgments anymore."
"You don't need it, my dear." He stood up at last, exhausted himself, and it was only Monday, June 29. The second week of the trial had commenced. He must begin the defense.
* * * * *
The first witness for the defense was Edith Sobell. Lovat-Smith was sitting back in his chair, legs crossed over casually, head lilted, as if he were interested only as a matter of curiosity. He had made a case that seemed unarguable, and looking around the crowded courtroom, there was not a single face which registered doubt. They were there only to watch Alexandra and the Carlyon family sitting in their row at the front, the women dressed in black and Felicia veiled, rigid and square-shouldered, Randolph unhappy but entirely composed.
Edith took the stand and stumbled once or twice when swearing the oath, her tongue clumsy in her nervousness.
And yet there was a bloom to her skin, a color that belied the situation, and she stood erect with nothing of the defen-siveness or the weight of grief which lay on her mother.
"Mrs. Sobell," Rathbone began courteously, "you are the sister of the victim of this crime, and the sister-in-law of the accused?"
"lam."
"Did you know your brother well, Mrs. Sobell?"
"Moderately. He was several years older than I, and he left home to go into the army when I was a child- But of course when he returned from service abroad and settled down I learned to know him again. He lived not far from Carlyon House, where I still live, since my husband's death."
"Would you tell me something of your brother's personality, as you observed it?"
Lovat-Smith shifted restlessly in his seat, and the crowd had already lost interest, all but a few who hoped there might be some completely new and shocking revelation. After all, this witness was for the defense.
Lovat-Smith rose to his feet.
"My lord, this appears to be quite irrelevant. We have already very fully established the nature of the dead man. He was honorable, hardworking, a military hero of considerable repute, faithful to his wife, financially prudent and generous. His only failings seem to have been that he was somewhat pompous and perhaps did not flatter or amuse his wife as much as he might." He smiled dryly, looking around so the jury could see his face. "A weakness we might all be guilty of, from time to time."
"I don't doubt it," Rathbone said acerbically. "And if Mrs. Sobell agrees with your estimation, I will be happy to save the court's time by avoiding having her repeat it. Mrs. Sobell?"
"I agree," Edith said with a look first at Rathbone, then at Lovat-Smith. "He also spent a great deal of time with his son, Cassian. He seemed to be an excellent and devoted father."