“Do you yield?” Cecilia asked.
Thorpe swallowed, the movement enough to scrape the needle-sharp point against his skin and draw a trickle of blood.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Not good enough. Do you admit to lying to your sovereign about my brother and my husband?” Cecilia challenged.
“Yes!” Thorpe cried as another swallow brought the blade a fraction of an inch further into his neck.
“Do you admit to…” Cecilia began.
The doors to the court opened once more and a voice rang out.
“Colonel Winston Winters of His Majesty’s Customs and Excise!” bellowed the footman responsible for announcing newcomers.
All eyes swiveled to a tall man with graying hair and a saturnine countenance. Dark brows gathered over darker eyes like thunderclouds. His jaw was set and fleshy lips parted into a sneer as he laid eyes on Thorpe. At his back were three excisemen bearing muskets with fixed bayonets.
“What is the meaning of this outrage!” the Regent bellowed, starting forward.
At the same time, Thorpe dodged to the side and aimed a blow at Cecilia’s wrist. She barely had time to react before her hand moved of its own accord, parrying Thorpe’s sword. Surprised, she glanced at Lionel, realizing he had taken her wrist and guided the movement. Thorpe staggered back, unbalanced by the unexpected defense. As Cecilia regained her composure, Lionel thrust her to the side, placing himself between her and Thorpe. He stood unarmed as Thorpe assumed a defensive stance, blade pointed unwaveringly at him.
Leaning closer, Lionel whispered, “My dearest, what did I say about never lowering your guard?”
She smiled sheepishly for a moment. Then yelled, “Don’t just stand there! Protect the Regent. Protect him with your bodies!”
Two sounds dominated the room. The sound of men scrambling to make a wall of their bodies between the Regent and Thorpe, and the sound of three muskets being cocked, followed by the lesser sound of their officer’s pistol. Thorpe looked around the room.
“Your Majesty, you are deceived! I am not a threat to you…”
“Your Majesty. I have a warrant for this man’s arrest on charges of slave trading and treason!” Colonel Winters said in a sonorous voice.
“Treason?!” the Regent bellowed from the safety of his human shields.
Cecilia thought that it spoke volumes of the man’s character that it was the treason charge that most caught his attention.
“Treason!” Thorpe echoed. “I have never…”
“A ship owned by yourself was found at anchor in the estuary of the river Lea at Wanstead. Slaves taken in Africa were found aboard, as was a representative of the government of the Republic of Haiti. He was hiding amongst the slaves andhas admitted to being aboard in order to ferment insurrection among slaves held in His Majesty's dominions and colonies. Sir Gerald Knightley has admitted knowledge of the man and has implicated you, Lord Thorpe, as his accomplice.”
Thorpe’s face was ashen. He looked at Winters in astonishment. “I did not know a revolutionary was hiding among those men. They were supposed to be bloody plantation workers for the Americans!”
The sword clattered to the floor as Thorpe realized what he had just confessed. The excisemen moved in, shouldering their muskets and seizing Thorpe’s arms. Cecilia turned as the Regent bravely pushed through the wall of courtiers, now that the danger had passed.
“Lord Thorpe. I hereby strip you of all titles and lands. You are a traitor to the Crown and I will see you hung!”
“Your Majesty,” Lionel spoke up, “I find that I must speak in defense of a man who shared my blood.”
Cecilia’s head whipped around to Lionel. A gasp went around the room. The Regent looked from one to the other.
“You cannot seek to defend a traitor and a slaver!” he said, incredulously.
“I ask, as a Duke of England, of a long-standing and respected family, that you show clemency,” Lionel continued.
“Lionel…” Cecilia began.
Lionel held up a hand and stepped closer to Thorpe, looking into his eyes.
“He is my brother. We have the same father,Charles Grisham,” Lionel stated. “I fear the only distance between us was built of circumstance, not malice.”
