“Keep me safe?” She glared at him.
He shook his head, sighed, and reached for the door handle.
“No, wait,” she said.
He paused.
“Let me get my coat.” The thought of being locked in again for seven hours or more gripped her by the throat. She snatched her wrap from the hook on the wall and followed Nate outside.
*
They walked insilence along the beach. Nate, bundled in an overcoat, hat, and scarf, strode with his hands in his pockets and his head bent against the cold, but Annabel faced it head-on, relishing the feel of the icy wind against her skin. She let her eyes roam and embrace the ordinary sights. Part of her wanted to sprint across the sand the way she did when she was a little girl picking up seashells with Stella, but she dared not.
Anger still burned in her chest. The ocean’s roar seemed to echo the scream trapped in her throat. She took a deep breath, waiting for calm. When she felt a touch calmer, she spoke. “I miss being outside, Nate. You promised you’d take me to Stella, and instead, you’ve kept me prisoner.”
“You’re not a prisoner,” Nate said. “I’m being cautious, that is all.”
They were already on their way back to the cottage, and Annabel needed to make him see reason before he could justify locking her up again. “I know you’re trying to keep me safe, but I don’t understand the need. My father either thinks I’m dead, or he told the world that I am—either way, he will have no reason to come looking for me.”
“The police might still be investigating, so you must be careful. The less you are seen now, the better. Everything will be over by the end of the week, and then I’ll be able to get you out of the country so you can join Stella.”
She folded her arms and said nothing. It didn’t feel right.Something was amiss, and she felt sure Nate was keeping something from her.
As if reading the doubt on her face, he said, “You want to keep Stella safe, don’t you?”
“Stella? Why would my being outdoors affect Stella’s safety?”
“Because if the police are investigating and discover you’re alive, they’ll find out she helped you escape, and Stella will end up in prison—perhaps even at the end of a rope.”
“Don’t say that!” Fear constricted her chest. “You promised she was safe in Italy.”
“She is—but you know your father—we can never be too careful about all this, can we?” He paused as they approached his hut. “And what about me?” His face distorted with rage. “Have you thought ofmyneck?”
Ordinarily, those words would have elicited a strong reaction from Annabel, but she was too busy looking at the newspaper that lay in front of Nate’s green door.
Lord Hudsyn To Stand Trial for Murder of Confectionary Merchant’s Daughter
The blood in her veins froze. She reread the large, printed letters before her but couldn’t comprehend their meaning, so she reached for the newspaper. But someone shoved her hard from behind. A silent scream escaped her mouth as she flew forward. And then the world went black.
*
On the dayof his trial, the Lieutenant Governor of the Tower and the Yeoman Goaler, carrying a tall ceremonial axe, escorted Henry from his cell in the Tower of London to the Palace at Westminster. A bowl of warm water and soap had been brought to his cell for his ablutions, after which he’d dressed in a clean suit, chosen by his valet, and delivered by his barrister earlier. A mob, staved off by police, jeered at him as he exited the carriage and entered the Houses of Parliament. Once inside, Henry’s escorts ushered him to the magnificent Royal Gallery, which had been turned into a temporary courtroom for his trial.
They waited until the Serjeant at Arms called for Henry to be brought forward and then took him to the bar. The rows of chairs that had been put in place on both sides of the room were filled. It seemed that every peer in the realm had indeed flocked back to London for the trial just as Mr. Upwey had predicted. Henry kept his head high as he walked past his peers, despite wishing the floor would open and swallow him whole. This walk of shame down the Royal Gallery, one of the most exquisite rooms in the Palace of Westminster, which was most often used for ceremonies and pomp, struck Henry as particularly ironic. And he was relieved when it came to an end in front of the Lord High Steward who sat as judge of the court. The Garter King at Arms and the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod who kept the Lord High Steward’s white staff, were seated to his right. Henry knelt before His Grace, and after being given permission to rise, he turned toward his peers and bowed. He took this opportunity to scan the room for Ottilie in the rows behind the robed noblemen, terrified she might have been called as a witness. But before he could see anything, the Lieutenant Governor of the Tower took him by the arm and directed him to sit on a stool in the bar. Both he and the axe-bearing Goaler then loomed behind Henry, standing guard, and making Henry feel as though he’d already been condemned and now waited for the axe to fall upon his neck.
“Oyez, Oyez, Oyez. My Lord High Steward of England, His Grace, calls for silence,” the Serjeant at Arms proclaimed.
The Right Honorable Lord Henry Arthur Hudsyn, you stand before this court accused of the murder of one Annabel Bianca Leonard,” the Lord High Steward said.
Then the Clerk of the Court stepped forward and said, “How plead you to this felony, my lord, guilty or not guilty?”
Henry stood up and cleared his throat. “Not guilty, my lords.”
“Oyez, Oyez, Oyez,” the Serjeant at Arms proclaimed again.
The Lord High Steward signaled to the Clerk of the Crown, who then announced, “My Lord High Steward, His Grace, calls for the prosecution to open for the Crown.”
The Attorney General stood. “My lords, prosecution for the Crown will show that during the early hours of 28 July 1869, the accused, Lord Henry Arthur Hudsyn, motivated by an ongoing rivalry with Lord Renwick Silas Craventhorp, lured Miss Annabel Bianca Leonard into his coach under false pretenses, strangled her, and later disposed of her body in the Thames.” He paused as if to let the lords in the room digest this information. “The Crown now calls James Arnold Hobsworth as its first witness.”
