A Marriage of Convenience (45 page)

Serjeant Alderson bowed his head and sighed. ‘Gentlemen, I do not intend to challenge the testimony of Mr Danvers. I rely too much on your good sense. You must decide whether it is likely that a man who wished to stop a marriage would not have used the one piece of information most likely to prevent it. Well, he swore that he never breathed a word about Irish marriages to the lady, and we can only wonder at it. No matter; he told the lady that lawful marriage to her would ruin Lord Ardmore, and I think you will agree that Mrs Barr is no witless innocent, unaware that a wife falls with her husband. You must draw your own conclusions.
Gentlemen
, she asked you to believe that secrecy banished every difficulty. I won’t remind you of my questions to her on that subject and her prevaricating replies. Her testimony is that she entered the church, perfectly confident that an impeccable marriage was to be
celebrated
. She saw nothing strange that the priest was wearing the garb he rides about his parish in and hitches up when he digs his garden. I mean no disrespect, but such was the case. No banns had been registered, the church was locked and no witnesses allowed in. They never signed the public register, the priest did not make the routine enquiries whether they were free to marry. And this travesty, Mrs Barr chooses to see as a perfect marriage and not the imposture it obviously was. Well, gentlemen, when she released Lord Ardmore, she proved what she really thought was done at the altar. Certainly she made her confession first, but would she be the very first Roman Catholic who ever received absolution and then committed a sin an hour or two later? Gentlemen … one thing you may be sure, we are not talking about a saint. It is up to you whether you believe that she indeed thought herself his wife; but if she did, what possible use could she have had for a marriage certificate? And more pertinent still, why did she keep her correspondence with the priest a secret
from Lord Ardmore? I confidently assure you that he will swear that she did. Is it not certain that she needed that piece of paper because she hoped to force my client to make that mock-marriage into a binding union? Can there be any other explanation? Gentlemen, that certificate was obtained by a miserable subterfuge. She told the priest it was only to be used for a baptism … You heard the use Serjeant Mason made of that document, so you can judge how well the lady kept her promise to the man who had tried to help her. Why then did she not use it? Lord Ardmore will tell you that she agreed to free him shortly after he had been imprisoned for debt, and within days of his failure to gain financial assistance from his uncle. As proof of this intention she gave him the written
undertaking
which you have already seen. No, gentlemen, I do not ask you to believe that any practising Catholic would have agreed to free a husband whom she believed she had wedded before God. If he had owed millions, I would not believe that of Mrs Barr.’ He paused to drink some water. At times as she listened, Theresa had been numbed far beyond resentment or despair; the man’s words came at her, wave after wave, too fast for her to recover from the impact of one falsehood before the next broke around her, and all surging by with a plausibility and force that made her fragmentary recollections seem light and useless. For brief intervals she heard and saw everything with perfect lucidity, and then individual words struck her like darts of pain:
travesty,
imposture,
subterfuge.
And all she could remember was her happiness on that day, and her
certainty
that in no place in any country could she have been more truly married. Never, she thought, never would they be able to unravel this web of lies; what was being done would never be mended.

‘What induced the lady to go back on her word is not a subject on which I intend to speculate,’ continued the barrister. ‘Jealousy, vindictiveness … I cannot tell. But one thing is beyond question—she decided to bring the defendant to this court, and by doing so has brought about his utter ruin. Gentlemen, do not misunderstand me; I do not condone what my client did in the church at Rathnagar. Though the priest abetted him, the marriage service was used for a purpose for which it was never intended; and that was a great fault. But that is no reason why you should decide he is married. The more you condemn him, the more you will see that he meant no marriage. Is that not his real fault, gentlemen? A few more words and I will be done, so bear with me. Regardless of any words spoken at the altar, and even if at the end of this hearing you believe what I do not—namely that a marriage took place—then I must remind you of that Act of Parliament which my learned friend so
much detests. Gentlemen, if I prove that Lord Ardmore was a professing Protestant at any time in the twelve months before the ceremony, then you cannot find for the plaintiff. You must perform your duty according to the truth and in your hands I now leave the case.’

When Clinton was called to the witness box a few minutes later, to be examined by his counsel, Theresa could not bear to look at him; she felt that if he repeated the lies she had just heard, she would lose her reason. As he began to speak the words of the oath, she left the courtroom. Yet outside in the circular hall she was no better off; her heart was still beating wildly. Like a fog that could penetrate closed doors, the atmosphere of the court still enveloped her; she was hemmed in, imprisoned by it and would never breathe pure air again until she had lived through what was to come. She imagined herself walking away along the quays, watching carriages pass, the brown river flowing on; everything continuing; everything except her. Minutes were passing, and indecision held her: a feeling of deep destroying panic. She had to go in again. Behind those doors her life was being lived for her against her will; no attitude of hers or physical absence could change that fact. And still she did not move. Her past was a lost continent, the future quite unknown; her only way to reach it was to return and hear him speak; that alone would free her.

She had been away longer than she thought, because Clinton’s counsel only asked a single question before sitting down. Apart from Mrs Barr’s written undertaking to let him go, had there been anything else done at their parting to make him suppose the lady thought her marriage void? Clinton said that the ring she had worn since the ceremony was returned to him. Then Serjeant Mason rose, and asked in the indifferent tone he might have used to enquire about some trivial detail:

‘Lord Ardmore, did you ever love Theresa Barr?’

‘I did.’

‘Did you ever love her purely and honourably?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re not ashamed to make that answer?’

‘No.’

‘Then answer this—is seduction of a gentlewoman pure or honourable?’

‘I think I’d use other words.’

‘Do you deny that you seduced her?’

‘In the sense that you mean it—yes.’

‘Words can mean what you like, can they? Then try another one. Is she a gentlewoman?’

‘A woman of gentle blood?’

‘Is blood all that makes a lady, sir? Has education nothing to say to it, think you? Belief in religion? Accomplishments? Manners?’

‘I respected her sincerely.’

‘You thought her a lady fit to marry any man, whatever his rank?’

‘Yes.’

His quiet firm voice and counsel’s hectoring self-righteous tone, froze Theresa. She heard Mason’s grating voice:

‘Was it not shameful to seduce such a woman?’

‘There are seductions and seductions.’

‘Don’t fence with me, sir. Do you mean to tell me that the seduction of a gentlewoman can sometimes be laudable?’

‘When a woman’s eagerness is equal to the man’s, and her marriage, or hopes of marriage, aren’t endangered … then a liaison can’t be so harmful to her.’

‘So that’s your morality, is it? A deed is only blameworthy if it’s found out.’

‘I said nothing about blame. A man who has a liaison with a woman who isn’t dependent on her family or a husband, obviously knows he can’t ruin her. I don’t say it excuses him, but I think it’s an important consideration.’

‘Then you think it’s perfectly acceptable to seduce a woman who is clever enough to earn her own living? Is there no blame in interrupting the career of a widow obliged to support herself and her child?’

‘I gave up my own career so I could support her while hers was interrupted. I believe when my own resources failed, she resumed it with tolerable ease.’

‘And was there no moral harm? Has a man the right to defile a woman simply because his action won’t make her a beggar?’

‘You’d do better to ask a clergyman.’

‘Because you have no morals of your own? Perhaps you can answer me this, sir—Did you first determine to make the lady your mistress when she was a guest in your mother’s house?’

‘I determined nothing.’

‘Events surprised you, did they?’

‘Yes.’

‘I intend to discover how surprising that seduction was. How did the first indecent familiarities come about? Where were you at the time?’

‘My Lord,’ objected Serjeant Alderson, ‘how can such details be material? This is a court of law and not of morals.’

‘Since you dispute what occurred in church, I believe such details are material,’ replied the judge. ‘I cannot see how counsel for the
plaintiff can be expected to throw light on what actually occurred, without trying to establish the previous circumstances and attitudes of the parties. For this reason I allowed you to examine Mrs Barr about her letters. It would be wholly inconsistent if I now refused to let Serjeant Mason ask the defendant about his intentions and behaviour toward the lady prior to the ceremony.’ The judge looked up at the gallery and said loudly: ‘I am not going to order the ladies in court to leave while this cross-examination continues, but I give you due warning that counsel’s questions may be indelicate, and in my view you will avoid exposing yourselves to an unpleasant scene if you go out now.’

Theresa felt sick as she watched almost every woman in the crowded courtroom rise and leave. Earlier she had observed not a few looking at Clinton with silly smiles that they could not conceal. Clinton appeared completely indifferent to the departure of the women; evidently resigned to the worst, he seemed inhumanly detached; yet when Mason addressed him again, Theresa saw his hands tighten on the rail of the witness box.

‘Well, sir, when and in what manner did familiarities first take place between you?’

‘Do you mean, when did I first touch her?’

‘Quite so.’

‘I kissed her in the saddle room of the stables at Kilkreen Castle. Incidentally I should be obliged if you would stop calling it my mother’s house. I own it, and she has a life interest.’

Mason bowed ironically.

‘I stand reproved.’ The barrister folded his arms in the sleeves of his gown. ‘Isn’t it somewhat singular, Lord Ardmore, that you asked Mrs Barr to join you in a deserted room in the stables, when according to your word you had no intentions of any sort concerning her?’

‘I found her attractive. I said to you that I never had a conscious design to make her my mistress.’

‘Was it chance that brought you both into the saddle room at the same moment?’

‘She had been watching the horses. I suppose I suggested she looked at the rest of the stables.’

‘That won’t do, sir. We must be more particular. In his speech my learned friend suggested that Mrs Barr is such a calculating siren that an innocent young gentleman like yourself would hardly have known what he was doing when he was in her company. Just let loose from your mother’s apron strings, you had no chance against the wiles of this temptress bent on dragging you to the altar. That was what my learned friend implied. Well, sir, did the siren lure you into that room against your will?’

‘I told you I made the suggestion.’

‘With what object, sir?’

‘I wanted to be alone with her.’

‘And she, thinking you a gentleman, did not suspect your motive?’

‘I don’t know what she thought.’

‘Did you make the first move, Lord Ardmore, or did the enchantress surprise you before you could resist?’

‘We took that fence together, sir.’

‘Just like that? Without premeditation?’

‘Would you have had us discuss it first?’

‘I ask the questions, sir. Is it normal in your experience for titled army officers who have distinguished themselves on active service, to be surprised into kissing women with no previous idea that they might do so?’

‘I doubt it.’

‘Of course you do. You took her in there, determined to dishonour her, did you not?’

‘I did not.’

‘What were your next dealings with the lady?’

‘I tried to tell her that we ought not to see each other again.’

‘Tried to? Was it so hard? Perhaps the siren frightened you.’

‘It was hard because I loved her. I was alarmed for a number of reasons … money, my brother’s feelings, the impossibility of offering her much … I considered marriage out of the question. Anyway she cut the ground from under me, by imitating the sort of speech men make on such occasions.’

‘And that changed everything?’ asked Mason with scathing mockery.

‘I loved her more for it. That was all. I couldn’t face making a decision there and then. I suggested we got away from the house to discuss what we ought to do. I wanted time. We drove in an open carriage. It rained and we took shelter in a barn. Yes, it was my suggestion.’

Mason tugged at his wig, as if bemused.

‘I understood that you wished to prevent an entanglement with the lady. Was that why you took her out alone with you in a carriage, and then, for the sake of a shower of rain, invited her into a barn?’

‘It was more than a shower.’

‘Come, sir. If the sun had been shining, would you not have gone in there?’

‘No.’

‘Did you attempt her virtue in that building?’

‘I won’t answer the question phrased in that way.’

‘Find your own words, sir. I offer you the whole vocabulary.’

‘She became my mistress.’

‘Again without premeditation on your part? Were you too innocent a young gentleman?’