On the Saturday, Sir Digby Rendell came to call.
He came in his carriage with a thin man in black who was introduced as Mr. Voysey, proctor, of Doctors' Commons, come down from London on the mail. Sir Digby did not sit. He stood in the middle of the drawing room with his hat under his arm and said that he had come as a courtesy.
"As a courtesy," he said, "I want you to know that Mr. Voysey has my instructions to enter a caveat in the Prerogative Court the moment the will is propounded. We shall allege that the codicil of September was obtained by the undue influence of the lady who is now—" he bowed slightly toward Rosamund, who stood by the window—"Your Grace's wife, at a time when the testator was not of sound and disposing mind. I want you to know, also, that we have witnesses."
"Witnesses to what?" said Ivo.
"To his condition. Mr. Voysey."
Mr. Voysey produced a paper from his breast pocket and read from it without inflexion. "'I, Jethro Scarth, engine-keeper, of Lode End in the parish of Sallowby, do say that upon the eleventh day of September I was called up to the house to set my mark to a paper, and that His Grace the late Duke did not know me, and called me by my father's name, and asked whether the French had landed; and that I was told by the young woman, Miss Quarrie, where to make my mark, and did not know what the paper was.' Signed with a mark," said Mr. Voysey, "and witnessed by Sir Digby's agent, Mr. Tench, on Thursday last."
Thursday. The day of the wedding. The day Ivo had seen Jethro Scarth at the churchyard wall with his hat against his chest and that look on his face that was something between grief and shame.
He looked at Rosamund. She had gone perfectly white, and perfectly still.
"That is a lie," she said.
"Then Mr. Scarth will be cross-examined upon it," said Sir Digby, "and the court will decide who lies. I don't say you're a wicked woman, ma'am. I daresay you persuaded yourself it was all for the cottagers. But the court will look at the facts, and the facts are a dying man, and a young woman, and forty thousand pounds." He put on his hat. "I'm sorry for it, Ellerholt. I liked the old man. Good day."
When the carriage had gone she stood a long time at the window without moving.