A door to the left of the royal crest opened and a tall, elegant woman appeared wearing a long red robe and full-bottomed wig, ready to rule over her domain. Everyone in the well of the court immediately rose and bowed. The judge returned their bow before taking her place in the high-backed chair in front of a desk covered in copious legal documents and leather-bound volumes on the laws of defamation. Once everyone had settled, Dame Elizabeth Lane turned her attention to the jury.

“Allow me to begin,” she said, giving them a warm smile, “by making it clear from the outset that you are the most important people in this courtroom. You are the proof of our democracy and the sole arbiters of justice, because it is you, and you alone, who will decide the outcome of this case. But let me offer you a word of advice. You cannot have failed to notice that there is considerable press interest in this case, so please avoid the media’s accounts of it. Only your opinion matters. They may have millions of readers, viewers, and listeners, but they don’t have a single vote in this courtroom. The same applies to your family and friends, who may not only have opinions on the case but be all too happy to express them. But unlike you,” the judge continued, her eyes never leaving the jury, “they will not have heard the evidence and therefore cannot offer an informed and unbiased opinion.

“Now, before I explain what is about to happen, I will remind you of the Oxford English Dictionary definition of the word libel: A false, undeserved, discredit on a person or country. In this case, you will have to decide whether or not Lady Virginia Fenwick has suffered such a defamation. Mr. Trelford will begin proceedings by making an opening statement on behalf of his client, Mrs. Clifton, and as the trial progresses I will keep you fully briefed. Should a matter of the law arise, I will stop proceedings and explain its relevance to you.”

Dame Elizabeth turned her attention to counsel’s bench. “Mr. Trelford, you may proceed with your opening statement.”

“I am obliged, my lady.” Trelford rose from his place, once again giving her a slight bow. Like the judge, he turned to face the jury before he began his submission. He opened a large black file in front of him, leaned back, held the lapels of his gown, and gave the seven men and five women of the jury if anything an even warmer smile than the judge had managed a few minutes before.