Death at Balfefield Abbey

Chapter 28, Dublin, 1904

By the time the prosecution rested their case, Sullivan noticed a significant decrease in the numbers protesting outside the courthouse. Placards continued to demand women's suffrage, but very few now declared Miranda Darley's innocence, a clear indication public opinion had become less divided as the weight of evidence mounted against the accused woman.

She also noticed a recent spate of editorials questioning the blind trust placed in household servants. Could mistresses be unknowingly harboring scheming cuckoos with secret designs on their husbands? Judging by the flood of letters to the editors, these articles struck a nerve. Long-buried fears among middle and upper-class women surfaced about the possible hidden motives of their housekeepers, nannies, and governesses—especially those with education, youth, and beauty.

The public gallery was always packed. Every day the chatter fell silent when all eyes turned to Miranda Darley, as she was brought up from the cells to take her place in the dock. She appeared to ignore onlookers, focusing instead on the well of the court. Her expression was one of impenetrable calm as the white wigs and black robes ebbed and flowed below her. But even she couldn't ignore the twelve men of the jury when they entered—it was they who would decide if she would live or die.

Watching her wasn't enough for some of the public now. Sullivan overheard murmurs of people hoping the defendant would be forced to take the stand and finally break her silence.

When setting out the case for the defense, Sir Clive Rippon-Neate KC's first act was to recall the chambermaid, Catherine Hackett.

"Miss Hackett, I want you to recount the events of the 9th of July last.," began Sir Clive, already sounding exhausted. He rose from his seat in that labored, ponderous way of his, like a walrus negotiating a stony beach, but did not approach the witness, instead, he bent forward resting his knuckles on his table. "The jury has already heard your evidence as to how you discovered the mortal remains of Arabella Darley. I would like you to take us back to the night before. What were your final tasks that evening?"

"I performed my usual duties in the bed chambers, sir. I placed fresh towels in the bathroom, turned down my mistress's bed, and laid out her nightgown."

"What about Captain Darley's room?"

"Because he was away for the evening and not expected back, I didn't need to attend to his room."

"Did you do anything else?"

"When the mistress was in her nightgown, she asked me to comb her hair. It was something she often did when the captain was away. I think she liked the company."

"How did her mood strike you on that occasion?"

"She was pleasant enough, sir. In her usual spirits, I would say."

"And what time was it when you left your mistress?"

"Around ten o'clock."

"Then what did you do?"

"I went to the kitchen, drank some tea, and read for a while before going to bed?"

"And at what time did you retire to your room in the servants' quarters."

"A little after eleven o'clock."

"Now, Miss Hackett, I would like you to tell the court of an incident that occurred at your home just outside the small town of Kilmallock, five years ago."

The young chambermaid seemed startled by this sudden change in questioning, but before she could answer, Robert Morton KC objected for the prosecution on the grounds of irrelevance.

"I will allow it," said Judge Bransfield. "Sir Clive has only just begun to set out his stall for the defense. Let us humor him for a moment or two." He nodded to Kate to answer the question.