“I rather like old Middlesex,” Jean commented.“Direct and to the point.My kind of man.”
Elizabeth smiled.“He isn’t retiring, if that’s what you mean.”
Jean laughed.“I see much of Middlesex in Jonathan.”
“I do, too,” Elizabeth said as the marquess’s coach came to a halt behind their carriage.A footman scrambled down to assist the marquess into his chair.
A second coach soon arrived, and another gentleman emerged.He was a respectable-looking man, perhaps middle-aged, with slightly graying hair and excellent black, tailored clothing.He went immediately to the marquess’s side.
Seeing that Elizabeth and Jean didn’t know the man the marquess made the introductions.“Elizabeth and Monsieur Lafitte, this is Edward Turner, my barrister,” Lord Middlesex said.Then he abruptly asked Turner, “Have we found out who is testifying against my son?”
Turner tucked a handful of papers under his arm.“No, my lord, but we shall soon enough.He will have to stand in open court and make his statement.”Turner reached in his watch pocket and pulled out a timepiece.“We should go in.”
After the barrister and Middlesex had walked ahead, Jean leaned over Elizabeth’s shoulder and whispered, “And I shall run him through.”
Elizabeth smiled and whispered back, “And then Jonathan will have company in prison,” she said through a grim smile.“You must control your temper in the courtroom.”
Elizabeth hurried to catch up with Edward Turner before they entered the building.“Excuse me, Mr.Turner.I don’t know if it matters, but Jonathan was wounded in the Battle of New Orleans.He never did fight with the Americans.”
Turner’s brows arched.“Jonathan has said as much.Do we have any witnesses?”
“Oui, we do,” Jean spoke up.“I was fighting with the Americans.I saw Jonathan myself when he was shot down, and by his own countrymen, too, I might add.”
“I’m not sure what to do with this information.”Turner seemed to be thinking out loud.“Would a British court look upon someone who fought against Britain worthy of testifying?”
Jean huffed at the insult.“Mon Dieu, you are a pompous lot,” Jean muttered, then added, “No offense, my friend.”
“None taken.”
“Shall we go in and see what transpires?”Turner said, and motioned to the footman to push Lord Middlesex’s wheelchair.
“What’s wrong with going in there and fighting?”Jean mumbled for Elizabeth’s ears only.
“Jean, you’re in a different country.You must behave according to the rules here,” Elizabeth insisted.
“Butcherie, I believe in action.”
“I know, but now is not the time.Let’s go.”
The courtroom was much larger than Elizabeth had expected.There was a high semicircle bench at the back wall.In front behind a wooden barrier, were the rows of seats with crimson cushions.Over the center of the bench was a wooden canopy, surmounted by a carving of the royal arms.When Elizabeth saw the sword, the first thing she thought was that Jean would now have a weapon to use if the proceedings tested his temper.
As they found seats, the bailiff called them to stand.He introduced the Assize judge, who came in and took a seat in the middle of the semicircle.The judge was flanked on either side by other men.Each man wore a scarlet robe and a white powdered wig.Below them, another group of men dressed exactly the same were also seated.
In front of the judges were several long tables and then a platform where the accused would stand.The jury box was to the right, but was currently empty.
Elizabeth sat with Jean to her right and Lord Middlesex to her left.She was so nervous that she wrung her hands together again and again.
What if they found Jonathan guilty?Would they hang him?Treason was a hanging offense, but they couldn’t do anything like that to her Jonathan—they just couldn’t!
Jean leaned over to her.“It is hard to trust a man who wears a powdered wig and rouge.”He rolled his eyes.“Mon Dieu, everything in here is red.”
Elizabeth glanced at Jean.“It is the way our courts work.The Assize judge only oversees the worst cases.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Lord Middlesex said from his place on her other side.
“What’s wrong?”
“Perhaps nothing.The judge is George Surrey,” Lord Middlesex said with a smile.“He’s an old friend of mine.”
