"Aye, sir. He was fussin' with somethin' near the wheel, like."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Selina's gaze darted to Hawthorne, noting the tightening of his jaw.
James leaned in close. "All is going well," he said, his voice a quiet caress.
Selina nodded, her resolve strengthening. She had come too far, endured too much, to falter now. She pushed the threatening tears away and squared her shoulders in defiance.
As the prosecution excused the stable lad, Selina felt a gentle nudge from James. It was her turn to take the stand. With a deep breath, she rose, herchin held high as she made her way to the witness stand.
"Lady Hollyfield," the barrister began, "please recount the events leading up to your husband's death."
Selina's voice remained steady as she spoke. "My husband had been involved in Lord Hawthorne's business dealings. I recently learned that he had called for Lord Hawthorne to repay him a great debt that resulted from those dealings a few days before the race."
From the corner of her eye, she saw Hawthorne shift uncomfortably in his seat.
"And on the day of the race?" the barrister prompted.
"Nile was confident, in high spirits. But after the accident..." Selina paused, swallowing hard. "I felt that something was amiss. I hired a private investigator who brought me evidence that Lord Hollyfield’s phaeton had been sabotaged."
Hawthorne's barrister rose, his eyes gleaming. "Lady Hollyfield, isn't it true that you and Lord Blackwood have been... intimately acquainted since your husband's passing?"
A gasp rippled through the assembled crowd, filling the chambers. Selina's cheeks flushed, but sheheld her ground. "My relationship with Lord Blackwood is irrelevant to these proceedings."
"Is it?" the barrister pressed. "Or perhaps you concocted this story together to frame Lord Hawthorne?"
James stood abruptly. “Lord Chancellor," he called out, "I have additional evidence that corroborates Lady Hollyfield's testimony."
The Lord Chancellor nodded, allowing James to approach. Selina watched, heart pounding, as James produced a small leather-bound ledger.
"This, my lords," James announced, "is Lord Hawthorne's personal account book. It details not only his fraudulent dealings but also the payment made to the ruffians that attacked myself and Lady Hollyfield."
The chamber erupted with the hum of voices. Selina's eyes locked with James's, a silent thank you passing between them. As she stepped down from the witness box, she felt a surge of hope. Justice would prevail.
The verdict rang out like a thunderclap, silencing the packed chamber. "Guilty," the Lord Chancellor declared, his voice steady and resolute.
Hawthorne's face, usually a mask of charm andcomposure, contorted with rage and disbelief. His eyes darted wildly, seeking an escape route as his sentence was pronounced: “Death by hanging at Tyburn.”
Hawthorne made his move. With a sudden burst of strength born of desperation, he shoved past his guards and bolted toward the doors.
"Stop him!" James shouted, already in pursuit. His long legs carried him swiftly after Hawthorne, with Alexander chased close behind.
Selina's heart raced as she watched the chaos unfold. Spectators scrambled out of the way as Hawthorne barreled through, pushing past anyone in his path.
James's voice cut through the din. "Alexander, cut him off at the entrance!"
The two men split up, James following Hawthorne's direct path while Alexander veered to the left, anticipating the fugitive's route.
Selina held her breath, her fingers gripping the railing before her. She silently willed James and Alexander to succeed, knowing that if Hawthorne escaped, all their efforts may be for naught.
"You can't run forever, Hawthorne!" James called out, his voice a mixture of determination and taunting. “You are a convicted man.” His footsteps echoedoff the marble floors as he gained ground on Hawthorne.
Hawthorne glanced back, his face twisted with desperation. "You'll never take me alive! If I am to die, it shall be on my own terms."
“I assure you, he will.” Nicolas Winters grinned as he cut off Hawthorne's escape. The cornered man skidded to a halt, his eyes wild as he looked for another way out.
James tackled Hawthorne, holding him down as constables put irons on his ankles. As the men brought Hawthorne to his feet, Selina ran into James’s arms. He held her close as they watched Hawthorne get hauled out of the building in chains.
Soon after, the heavy oak doors of the House of Lords burst open, and Selina and James emerged onto the bustling London street. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestones, illuminating the sea of curious onlookers who had gathered to witness the aftermath of Lord Hawthorne's sensational trial.
