Midnight at Marble Arch - By Anne Perry Page 0,127

Catherine?”

“It’s certainly possible. But how the devil do we prove all this?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But for the sake of a man’s life, we must spend all the time we have left trying. I intend to go to Thomas Pitt’s home and wait for his return. He and Lord Narraway will solve this, if it can be done.”

“I shall come with you,” he insisted. “We have no time to waste in relaying messages to each other. Come.”

CHAPTER

19

CHARLOTTE WAS COMPLETELY UNPREPARED when Vespasia arrived, with Peter Symington immediately behind her. Vespasia looked magnificent, dressed in an exquisitely cut costume of dark blue-gray with flawless white silk at the neck and pearls on her ears. If the intent had been somberness appropriate for a trial, she had just missed it.

“I apologize, my dear,” Vespasia said as a stammering Minnie Maude held the parlor door open for her. “But the situation is desperate. May I introduce Mr. Symington. As you know, he has undertaken the defense of Alban Hythe, for what I fear will be scant reward, and we are on the brink of defeat. We are beaten on every side and unless we can think of something tonight, tomorrow will deal us the coup de grâce. Although there will be little of grace about it. I do not like Mr. Bower, who represents the prosecution. There is a self-righteousness in the man, and a lack of imagination.” The vitality and determination in her face seemed to reject the possibility of both tragedy and defeat. Symington was clearly weary and bruised from battle, but the warmth of his smile robbed Charlotte of complaint.

“How do you do, Mrs. Pitt?” Symington said quietly. “I am aware that we are intruding, and I apologize.”

“You are most welcome,” Charlotte said sincerely. “Have you come straight from court? It’s early, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he replied. “The judge allowed me time. I’m sure he assumes it’s so that I can prepare myself for a strategic surrender. But we are not quite at the last ditch. Lady Vespasia hopes that Commander Pitt and Lord Narraway might yet be of assistance.”

Charlotte’s mind raced. She had no idea where either Pitt or Narraway might be. What should she do if they did not return until late? It was only just after three in the afternoon.

“Have you eaten?” she said practically. No one’s mind was at its best when lacking nourishment.

“Yes, we have had luncheon, thank you,” Vespasia said, still standing. “But perhaps Minnie Maude would be kind enough to make us tea. I remember in the past most profound conversations across the kitchen table. Might that be possible again?”

Charlotte did not bother to consult Symington. His easy smile as he stood suggested he would agree.

“Of course,” she said quickly. “Minnie Maude will make us tea, and we’ll have some cake as well. Neither hunger nor discomfort must mar our thoughts. I shall use the telephone to see if Mr. Stoker can help us get a message to Thomas. I also imagine Lord Narraway’s manservant might be able to find him, if it is possible.”

“Excellent.” Vespasia nodded. She and Symington followed Charlotte to the kitchen, followed by a startled and uncomfortable Minnie Maude.

Around the kitchen table, with plenty of tea and some very good homemade cake, they brought Charlotte up to date with the day’s happenings in the courtroom.

“What we lack is any kind of proof,” Vespasia said unhappily.

Symington ate the last of his cake. “I would settle for a witness or two and a good deal of suggestions,” he said. “You can scare people into admitting all kinds of things, if you get the balance exactly right. I would like to prove Hythe innocent, but at this point I’d be grateful for reasonable doubt.”

Vespasia thought for several moments. “Let us consider what we know for certain,” she said. “In the order of their happening, as far as is possible.” She looked at Charlotte. “What does Thomas know?”

“That about four years ago Eleanor Forsbrook ran away from home,” Charlotte said. “We don’t know whether it was with a lover or not, nor do we know who that lover was, if there was one, may have been. Possibly she was beaten beforehand, but we have no evidence yet.”

“No evidence yet? Then how do you know this?” Symington asked her.

“My husband found out from a man who works nearby in Bryanston Mews,” she answered. “Thomas said he was intending to find the doctor who examined Eleanor’s body after the accident, to see if any of