met her unfortunate demise, a tragedy that would never have occurred if she had not felt compelled to run from her own home.
And so it continued with an account of Gil’s behavior when he had arrived unannounced at the general’s home while Lady Pascoe was there alone and undefended. The lawyer made much of Gil’s second visit there and of Lady Pascoe’s courage in keeping him from her granddaughter, who was shrieking with terror. Parts of the two letters Gil had written not long after from St. Helena were read aloud and both missives were offered into evidence.
A final plea was made to leave the child with her grandparents, who could raise her in a manner appropriate to her mother’s birth and in a place where she would be safe and well cared for. And loved. The lawyer wound up his argument with an affecting description of the maternal love her ladyship lavished upon her granddaughter now that her only daughter had been snatched from her as a result of the abuse she had suffered at Lieutenant Colonel Bennington’s hands. His behavior from the outset had, in fact, shown him to be a man of brutish upbringing and unbridled passions. Not only was he unfit to have the care of a child, even with the acquisition of a new wife—whose own birth was not without blemish—but he was also unfit to visit his daughter at her grandparents’ home or to have any dealings with her whatsoever. And on the subject of the new Mrs. Bennington’s birth—
“Thank you for keeping your case brief,” the judge said, interrupting, though it was not clear if he spoke ironically. “There are no character witnesses to support General Sir Edward and Lady Pascoe’s claim to be suitable guardians for their daughter’s child, who is not yet even three years old?”
“Your Honor.” Their lawyer sounded shocked. “General Pascoe’s military reputation is well known and above reproach, and Lady Pascoe, as the whole of the fashionable world is well aware, is the sister of—”
“Yes, yes.” The judge waved a dismissive hand. “Foolish of me to ask. It is the turn of Lieutenant Colonel Bennington’s side to persuade me of his claim to assume his daughter’s care. It is to be hoped the persuasion will be brief. It is also to be hoped that not all of these illustrious persons now adorning my courtroom are intending to testify. I can look with some resignation upon the loss of my luncheon. I am not sure I can do the same for my dinner. Or for tomorrow morning’s breakfast.”
He definitely had a sense of humor, Abigail thought, but a strange one. It was impossible to decide which side it would favor. But a judge was not meant to favor either side. That was the whole point of his position. Besides, he had not heard their side yet. She set her hand over Gil’s on the table and felt it jump slightly beneath the pressure. She did not believe she had ever felt more terrified in her life. She could actually feel the blood pounding at her temples.
“Lieutenant Colonel Bennington’s military career has been a model of extraordinary service and courage and achievement, Your Honor,” Mr. Grimes began after he had got to his feet, cleared his throat, and grasped the edges of his robe just below the shoulders. “He has been singled out for commendation in no fewer than six official dispatches, one from India when he was a sergeant, four from the Peninsula after he became a commissioned officer—including one that followed his successful leadership of a forlorn hope—and one from the Battle of Waterloo. I have here, Your Honor, copies of those dispatches that I obtained from—”
“Yes, yes,” the judge said with another wave of his hand. “Leave them where they are. In the unlikely event I should feel the need to read either them or the letters sent from St. Helena, I will know where to find them. We will grant your client’s prowess on the battlefield, as we will grant General Pascoe’s. Get to the child, Mr. Grimes.”
Mr. Grimes got to her. He described—briefly—the size of the deceptively named Rose Cottage in Gloucestershire, the number of servants who saw to its smooth running, Gil’s financial ability to finance it and to raise his daughter in some comfort there. The documents he had received from Gil’s agent were waved away with the dispatches from the Horse Guards and the letters from St. Helena. He described the arrangements