The Countess Conspiracy (Brothers Sinister #3)(91)

Her voice was clear and carrying. It reminded him of the way she’d spoken last night: confident and strong. Her head was held high; her hands were relaxed at her sides.

She looked marvelous, but Sebastian felt a cold pit growing in his stomach. Something was wrong. Horrifically wrong.

“You may ask questions,” the magistrate said.

“I see now only two charges on the indictment,” Violet said. “The first is that I did speak of lewd and lascivious subjects in a public gathering yesterday evening.”

“Yes.”

“Am I to understand, then,” Violet said, “that I am no longer being charged with the lecture that was given here in October of 1862?”

“Yes, Your Ladyship,” the magistrate said with a touch of deference. “You are not.”

“How odd.” Violet raised her chin. “I was responsible for that, too.”

Sebastian felt his heart squeeze. No. She hadn’t said that. She could not have said that. What did she think she was doing?

“In fact, over the years of 1862 through 1867, there were ninety-seven lectures given by Malheur. I am not being charged in connection with those, either. Do I understand that correctly?”

The magistrate leaned back in his chair, looking a little annoyed. “No, Your Ladyship. You are not being charged in connection with those events.”

“Strange,” she said. “Because those were my ideas he presented.”

“Are you trying to expand the indictment?” asked the wigged man to the right in confusion.

“I am merely trying to understand the charges, so that I might appropriately enter a plea,” Violet said.

Sebastian had a bad feeling—a very bad feeling—about what was about to transpire. He squeezed his hands together, but no matter how hard he compressed them, it didn’t help.

Violet glanced down at the paper in front of her. “As to the charge of disturbing the peace. I understand that presenting my work to an audience in Leicester in 1864 caused a near-riot involving a herd of goats. That incident is not included on this indictment?”

“No,” the magistrate responded. “I think you understand the charges fairly well by now, Your Ladyship. How do you plead?”

Violet’s chin went up in defiance. “Are you asking me if I announced yesterday that I had uncovered the mechanism by which sexual reproduction transmits inherited traits? Are you asking me if I showed a crowd a sketch of the male sperm cell, magnified several thousandfold to show the material inside the nucleus?”

“No,” the magistrate responded with a touch of impatience. “I am asking you to enter a plea. You may remain silent, and your plea will be presumed to be ‘not guilty’; you may plead guilty or not guilty. But what you may not do is continue with a recitation of these items. Do so and I’ll hold you in contempt of court.”

“But a plea requires me to consider whether there were mitigating circumstances,” Violet said. “Whether I was subject to undue influence, whether I was the one who instigated these events or if someone else directed me.”

Sebastian held his breath in agony. She had to say it. They’d planned it all last night. He’d sealed her participation with her marble, for God’s sake.

“A plea requires you to say if you are guilty or not guilty,” the magistrate snapped back.

“The answer,” Violet said, “is no.”

Oh, thank God. She hadn’t completely lost her mind.

“No,” Violet continued, “there were no mitigating circumstances.”

For a moment, the room was as stunned as Sebastian was, so quiet that he could hear his own breath hissing in utter, betrayed agony.

“No, nobody but me instigated these inquiries. I was assisted by others, and I will give all due credit when the time is right, but the science of inheritance has always been mine. It was my choice to speak of it last night, my choice to make the presentation. They were my words, my work, and I’ll be damned to hell before I let anyone else take the credit.”

Sebastian let out a staggered, shaking breath.

“You are in contempt,” the magistrate bellowed. “Now, will you enter a plea?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Violet was standing straight, her eyes flashing. “I’m guilty. Guilty on both counts, Your Worship. I’m guilty, and I’m proud of it.”

Sebastian couldn’t think. He had no idea what to say. Even after everything that she had said, the magistrate paused.

“Are you certain? You are voluntarily entering a plea of guilty of your own free will?” He frowned. “You are aware that there is a term of imprisonment associated with these offenses?”

“Of course I know that,” Violet said scornfully. “But they want to stop me. They want to shut me up—me and everyone associated with my work. If I show fear, they’ll never stop. I shall always be forced to defend myself from ludicrous charges.” Her chin went up. “They need to know that they have no recourse. That I am not afraid of them, not even if they throw the entire weight of the law at me. So yes, Your Worships. I discovered the truth. I told the world.” She straightened and glared at them. “I’m guilty.”

The men withdrew for a moment, murmuring to each other. Sebastian sat frozen in his seat, unable to comprehend what he’d just heard. She’d just… Violet had just…