’ ‘Can you prove it?’ demanded Hilary. Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. Arrived in the Hall, the prisoner's handcuffs were removed, and he was taken before the Court of King's Bench. "A bad business this, Van," observed Baptist, with a prolonged shake of the head. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. "My demeanour ought to convince you that I came with no hostile intention.
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