Tombland

He looked down at his notes and then, to my relief, began speaking clearly and fluently. ‘My Lord, I would submit there is no evidence linking me to this terrible crime. Indeed, my wife’s body being left in public view in that hideous way only advertised to the world that she had been alive until the day before, making my second marriage invalid. I submit that I had no motive to leave her body exposed to the world. Further, I have evidence that this crime could not have been committed by one man alone, that mine was not the only key to my horse’s stable and that this second key disappeared for a while.’ He took a deep breath. While speaking he looked straight ahead, occasionally glancing at the jurors. I had advised him to do this – establishing eye contact would remind them he was a human being whose life was in their hands. There was a murmuring in the court. He had, at least, impressed them.

Judge Gatchet intervened. ‘You spoke of your second marriage. But is it not the case that shortly after your wife disappeared, you took Isabella Heath into your home and lived with her for seven years, marrying her only after your wife was declared dead, exposing your servants and young sons’ – he cast a glance at the twins who, as if on cue, lowered their heads – ‘to ungodly immorality?’

Boleyn looked straight back at Gatchet. ‘I never meant Edith to discover my relations with Isabella, it was mean common gossips who told her. After she disappeared, I notified the authorities and made every effort to find her, involving the local constable and assisting the search in every way. I ask the coroner if that is not true.’

The coroner rose in his place and said, ‘My predecessor is dead now, but he told me of the efforts to find Edith Boleyn, and I have seen the papers. Master Boleyn is correct.’

‘Nonetheless,’ Gatchet persisted, ‘you lived openly in sin for seven years.’

‘I am on trial here for murder.’ Boleyn’s voice rose; suddenly he was shouting. ‘This is not the Church court where gossips and backbiters cast easy judgement on things they know nothing about!’

I took a deep breath. His temper was out. There was a gasp from the well of the court. Gatchet went purple. ‘How dare you speak to a lord justice like that!’ he said furiously. ‘You ungodly, shameless wretch –’

Reynberd looked at Boleyn hard. ‘Do not speak like that again in court, Master Boleyn. Apart from anything else, it will do you no credit.’

Boleyn swallowed audibly, realizing he had made a serious mistake. ‘I apologize, my Lord.’

‘That’s better. Now, what else have you to say?’

He glanced quickly at his notes. ‘I wish to call Isabella Heath, and my steward Daniel Chawry, to give evidence as to my character.’

Reynberd waved a hand. ‘Very well.’

Isabella took a deep breath, stepped out and mounted the witness box. Her stance and expression were exactly right – sober and melancholy.

Boleyn coughed, then spoke softly, ‘Isabella, how long have we shared our lives together?’

‘Nine years, sir. And for the last two, after your poor wife was declared dead, we have been married.’ She looked at the judges, her expression one of open honesty.

Gatchet was still in a vile mood. ‘Why did you agree to live in sin with this man?’

Isabella looked straight back at him. ‘Because I loved him, and his wife was gone.’

Another murmur from the public gallery. It sounded sympathetic; I saw a couple of women nodding.

Boleyn said, ‘You would say we have been happy?’

Isabella looked at him and smiled unforcedly. ‘I think it a rare thing in the world for two people to feel such natural devotion as we have, despite the difference in our age and status.’

‘Do you believe me capable of murder?’

‘Never, sir. You are a gentle man, too gentle perhaps, for that has allowed acquisitive neighbours and unruly children to take advantage sometimes.’ She looked directly at Leonard Witherington, then the twins, who stared back expressionlessly.

Boleyn said, ‘I confess I laid hard courses upon you. Public obloquy because we lived together without being married –’

‘Only for legal reasons, sir, since seven years had to pass before Edith, God rest her soul, could be declared dead.’

‘You had the burden of becoming mistress of my estate, and bringing up my sons, who were not easy.’ Then he asked, ‘Did you ever think of leaving me?’

‘Never.’

Isabella and Boleyn were both close to tears now. Boleyn swallowed and then suddenly asked, ‘If I am found innocent of this terrible crime, now poor Edith is dead, would you marry me again?’

Isabella looked startled. Then she answered, ‘Certainly.’

I drew a deep breath. I saw two men scribbling frantically – this was ideal material for a sensational pamphlet; effectively, a proposal from the dock. However, I saw a couple of respectable jurymen frowning at each other, and both judges looked cross. Reynberd called for silence, then leaned forward and said, ‘I must ask the jury to discount that last emotional display. Master Boleyn, have you any further questions for this witness?’

‘No, sir.’