Blue Moon (25 page)

There was a commotion at the door that drew his attention, along with everyone else’s. Darcy watched as Olivia’s father stepped through the door. His wife came along after him, her good looks surprising. The night he had visited the cabin to offer to buy Olivia, he had thought her a pale, tired woman. Today Payson Bond’s wife’s cheeks were bright, her eyes shining. She had washed her shining blond hair and in the pale blue gown she was wearing, she actually looked much younger and quite fetching. The two little towheaded hellions ran through the door behind her and raced to take seats in front. The younger one smiled and waved to the crowd, and when he caught Darcy looking at him, he stuck out his tongue.

Darcy braced himself for Olivia’s entrance when she walked in with the half-breed. Head high, her cheeks flaming, she wore a long doeskin dress, Indian garb adorned with fringe that swayed provocatively with her every step. Her long black hair curled riotously, almost to her waist. He had to hand it to her—she looked stunning and untouchable with the huge man beside her.

LeCroix appeared formidable in a clean white shirt with full sleeves, his ragged red eye patch a bold statement that only exaggerated his “Prince of the Ohio” image. If the man’s shoulder wound still bothered him, he did not let on as he stood there beside Olivia, daring anyone in the room to approach her.

As he stared across the room at Noah LeCroix, Darcy thanked his lucky stars that the heavier, well-built man had not killed him at Cave in Rock. At least now he would still be able to tell his side of the story to the judge and hopefully save his own neck.

Spending almost twenty-four hours in the smokehouse had given him time to prepare his own defense. He just hoped his ability to charm the skin off a snake had not totally evaporated. His failure to win over Olivia was a setback that still shocked him, but this was no time to give in to doubt. His future depended on his ability to convince the justice of the peace and the crowd that he was innocent of Betts’s murder.

LeCroix stared over at him as he escorted Olivia to her chair. A murmur rippled through the crowd. The last of the Bond entourage to enter was the young serving girl who had threatened Darcy with the rifle. There was an undeniable flash in her eyes and a bounce in her step that any warm-blooded man would be hard-pressed not to notice. She was ready for a tumble, and advertising in not-so-subtle ways. He found himself wondering what she would look like in silk, with those thick auburn curls done up in style, when Ern stepped up to the judge’s table and rapped it with a wooden spoon. On the way over there had been much discussion about a missing gavel. Faye Matheson had volunteered to run back to the store and grab a substitute gavel when they promised that they wouldn’t start without her.

“Hear ye, hear ye. Time for this honorable court to come to order.”

The whispering and shuffling of feet against the wooden floorboards stopped. An expectant hush fell over the room.

“The honorable Elihu Richmond will preside.” Ern Matheson took his role to heart, standing straight as a poker, chest out, shoulders back.

Darcy stared at the slight, crooked figure coming through the door. Elihu Richmond was old as dirt, nearly bent double over a wooden cane. In his other bent, gnarled hand he carried a worn leather satchel. As he shuffled along, his feet never left the ground. His back was so crippled that he could barely lift his head and look up. He reminded Darcy of an old turtle, with wisps of white hair sticking out of large ears that bracketed a bald, freckled pate.

Ern helped him into his chair. The justice took his time hanging the cane on the edge of the table and arranging it just so. Then he dug through his satchel and made a great show of sorting through a pile of wrinkled papers, then tried to smooth them flat with his arthritic hands. Finally his head came up a fraction of an inch and he rolled his eyes to scan the crowd.

Elihu Richmond cleared his throat and rasped. “Well, let’s begin.”

Ern stood and gave an official, long-winded version of what had happened; he told of finding Betts’s body at the hotel and how he recognized Noah’s distinctive knife, of Noah’s arrest, of Susanna Bond’s statement that her stepdaughter had gone away with Darcy because he had threatened all of their lives if she did not.

Susanna Bond was called to give her statement again. There was much shifting on the hard-bottomed chairs as she swore to tell the truth on the bible, but during her testimony, the place was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Darcy knew when his time came, he had better make the story good.

Olivia stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Darcy even once. She had donned Noah’s mother’s dress as a talisman and hoped that it would offer her protection. Butterflies were amassing in her stomach, for she knew that when it was her turn to cross the room alone and stand before the wizened old judge, she would have to tell the truth—and the truth would mean the whole story. She would have to tell why and how Darcy had come into her life, and then the town would know that she had been his captive whore for over a year. No matter that none of it had been her choice. Most of these stouthearted, God-fearing people would see it as an indelible black stain upon her soul.

Noah surprised her by reaching over to take her hand and giving it a squeeze. When she looked at him, he smiled and, despite the circumstances, the crowd, the fact that Darcy was only a few feet away, she felt warm and safe, as if they were the only two people in the world.

Ern was conferring with Judge Richmond, who kept yelling, “What’d you say?” every time Ern whispered in his ear. Finally Ern yelled back, “I said LeCroix is a half-breed,” and a murmur rippled through the crowd.

“Then I’m not allowin’ his testimony,” Richmond shot back.

Olivia glanced up at Noah. He was staring straight ahead at the bright sunlight beyond the open door, toward the river. She straightened, lifted her chin. Her hand tightened in his. The judge said something she did not hear over her deep concern for Noah’s pride.

“Miss Livvie?” Ern finally caught her attention. He was across the room, waiting expectantly for something. She realized she had finally been called to speak.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. The judge’s table was only a few steps away and yet it seemed like miles as she crossed the room. The fringe on the doeskin dress swayed with a whispering
hush-hush
sound. The touch of the rich cured skin against her flesh gave her courage and she thought of that other world, the swamp, and the day Noah had given her the dress. Finally she faced both the judge and the room at large.

Beside her family, Noah was staring up at her from his seat in the front row. He looked so natural there, so much a part of them that she was afraid she was going to cry. She glanced at Susanna, who smiled back, although her eyes were suspiciously bright. Payson looked nervous as he sat with his hat on his knees. He nodded at her and mouthed, “We love you, Livvie.”

And she knew that he did love her, that her family would always love her no matter what the rest of Shawneetown thought of her once the story had been told.

She could not bear to look at the boys. Molly sat beside them, watching her intently. Even the serving girl appeared nervous for her. Molly sat there twisting her hands in the worn material of her homespun skirt and glancing around the room.

Ern Matheson touched her arm, had her place her hand on the cracked, black leather cover of an old bible and swear to tell the truth. He advised her to speak up good and loud. Then he nodded to Richmond. When the judge asked how she came to know Darcy Lankanal, she quickly glossed over the raid by the river pirates and then told of how they had sold her to Darcy in New Orleans. Just as she expected, the crowd lost control. It took Ern much pounding of the wooden spoon and yelling for quiet before things simmered down.

“So Lankanal bought you?”

“He did.”

“And then what happened?” For the first time, Elihu Richmond seemed truly interested in the testimony.

“He kept me locked up in his place of business for over a year.”

“His place of business?”

“Yes. The Palace of Angels. A gambling saloon and house of prostitution in the French Quarter.”

A woman in one of the chairs near the back actually swooned. There was much commotion as she was carried out like a fallen doe hanging limp between two men while her bonnet dangled by its ribbons from her neck.

“Go on.” Richmond was leaning across the table toward her, his neck twisted so that he could look up at her. “What did you do there?”

The room was hushed. Olivia’s face burned and her heart hammered in her chest. Everyone in the room was leaning forward, intently staring at her from the edges of their seats, anxious to hear every sordid detail of the time she had spent with Darcy. The air was close and hot and still, and for a moment she thought that she was going to faint. She took a deep breath and then another. Flashes of memory assailed her, days and nights locked in Darcy’s suite. The first few weeks he had not given her any clothes, kept her nude to prevent escape.

He had never brutally harmed her, certainly not the way he had done in the cave. His patience and skill always paid off, and eventually he would win over her traitorous body, if not her mind. How could she put any of it into words? How quickly did one die of shame?

A man near the door snickered. Chairs creaked. She looked to Noah again for strength and knew that was a mistake. His face was already dark with anger, his hands fisted on his thighs.

“Miss Bond, I asked you a question,” Richmond said, licking his lips. “What happened while Lankanal had you in his possession?”

Olivia opened her mouth to speak but never got a word out, for Noah had jumped to his feet.

“Stop!” His voice echoed around the silent room. His footsteps were heavy as he strode to her side. He was shaking with rage.

“Enough, Olivia. We’re leaving.”

Chapter 21

Pandemonium broke out. Even Richmond struggled to his feet. He ignored the wooden spoon and took to pounding on the tabletop with the worn bible.

“Sit down, sir!” he hollered. “Sit back down and be quiet or I’ll have Ern toss you out.”

Noah tugged on Olivia’s hand. “Come on.”

“Oh, Noah.” She touched his cheek and smiled up at him. “I have to do this. It’s all right, really.”

“I won’t have you humiliated, not for him.” He indicated Darcy with a lift of his chin.

“I have to do what is right. I can only tell the truth. My concern before was in telling my family, but now they already know all there is to know and they still love me anyway.”

He looked over the crowded tavern, at the men and women with their heads together, conferring with each other in hushed whispers, pointing, staring at the two of them, at Darcy and at Olivia’s family.

When he looked into her eyes, her heart lodged in her throat.

“I love you too, Olivia. I will always love you.”

Upon hearing the words she had never thought to hear from him again she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and willed her tears not to fall.

“Then please, go back to your chair, Noah. I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated a moment more. A wave of relief went through her when Noah finally let go of her hand and slowly walked back to his seat. He stared down the crowd with every step.

“Are you ready now?” the judge asked. “Any more theatrics?”

She shook her head. “No, sir.”

“Fine. Then go on.”

Olivia finally looked at Darcy. “Mr. Lankanal locked me in his private suite and kept me there for weeks. Eventually, he let me move about the place, but not often, and never alone. I devised a way to escape by hiding in a pile of laundry, stealing one of the house slaves’ dresses, and slipping out.”

She told of hiring on for the trip up the Mississippi with the Marlboroughs, but left out the rest of the sordid details.

“After I was separated from the Marlborough family, Noah LeCroix found me and led me here, to Shawneetown.”

Finally she allowed herself to look at Noah again. Although he was sitting very still, she knew him well enough to see that he was seething. She concentrated on his tender, public profession of love and knew she could bear anything now.

“I thought I was safe until I saw Darcy Lankanal here in town. He told me that I still owed him the money that he paid the river pirates for me. He claimed that I had not worked off my time yet. He used that to blackmail me and made threats that led me to believe that he would kill Noah and my family if I didn’t go back to New Orleans with him. After everything he had already done, I believed him. When I left with him, I had no idea he would try to frame Noah for a crime he never committed.”

“But now you believe Mr. Lankanal did
not
kill this man Belts?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he said he didn’t. He’s not one to let an opportunity go by, so when Betts collapsed, he took advantage.”

“After all he did to you, you believe him? I find that pretty hard to swallow, little lady.”

The room was stifling, the air too close for comfort with so many people crowded together. Olivia looked at Darcy again.

Gone was his bold, arrogant demeanor, his overbearing confidence. His once high-glossed boots were muddy and scratched beyond repair, his swallowtail coat torn and stained. The leg of his trousers was ripped at the knee. He looked wrinkled and tired and disheveled. His face was purple with braises, his lips cut, his eye still swollen. In the courtroom, surrounded by all the others he looked smaller, his once-threatening presence diminished by all that had happened. He was watching her intently without a trace of fear for his life, only regret.

He had tried to have her and had failed. He had also made her a promise to go back to New Orleans and leave them all in peace. She could not explain why, but yes, she believed him.

“I think I know him well enough to know when he’s lying, and I’m certain he is telling the truth about Betts.”

The judge’s hands stopped fidgeting with his papers. He stared at her through rheumy hazel eyes. The room fell silent as a tomb.

“But yet before, you truly believed he would have harmed your family?”

“At the time I did.”

The judge let out a long-suffering sigh and shook his head.

“You forgive him, girl, for all he did to you?”

Olivia looked at Payson. Her father was on the edge of his seat, staring at Darcy. She had seen the same expression on her father’s face often enough; it was one he wore when he was trying to come to terms with some new philosophy he had just read or when he was wrestling with the words of a new poem.

Beside Payson, Noah sat watching her. She could almost feel him willing her to be strong, to ignore the whispers and expressions of distaste and condemnation on the faces of the crowd. She knew that he would try to fight them all if she gave him even the slightest indication that this whole affair was getting the best of her, so she was careful not to look into his face for too long.

“I asked if you can forgive Lankanal, girl?” Richmond repeated.

Certain of her answer, she turned to the judge.

“I do, sir. I forgive him.”

“And why is that? Because you have some lingering feelings for the scoundrel?”

“The only thing I feel for him is loathing. But I am ready to put the past behind me, once and for all, and in order to do that, I must forgive him.”

At last she looked over at her father. He was watching her with pride, his eyes bright.

A stunned silence hung over the room until the judge finally said, “Thank you, then, Miss Bond. You may sit down.”

As Olivia once more took her seat beside Noah, Elihu Richmond turned his watery gaze on Darcy and squinted across the space that separated them from the rest of the room.

“I suppose I ought to hear your version of the story, Mr. Lankanal, afore I pass judgment. So step on up here and tell it.”

Darcy stood and made his way, chains dragging, across the floor.

“Ern, get those things off that man,” Richmond instructed. “He don’t look like he could outrun a child the shape he’s in anyway.”

Ern quickly freed Darcy, who politely thanked the judge for his compassion.

“Don’t think that means you still aren’t gonna swing, young man. Now get on with it.”

Darcy turned to face the room. Intentionally, he did not straighten to his full height. He played up his cuts and bruises, turning the most battered side of his face toward the crowd. He scanned the crowd of farmers, merchants, miners, and pilgrims, the fortunate souls able to get a seat in the crowded room, and reminded himself to raise his voice so that the old judge heard every word.

“How far would any of you men go to have the woman you loved by your side? Would you track her down? Would you hire men to find her? Would you let her go without a fight?”

He could see that his opening caught them off guard, and waited while the stunned audience mulled over the questions he had put to them. “If so, then you would be guilty as I am. I was obsessed with a woman.” He nodded at Olivia. “When she left my … protection—” He cleared his throat, knowing that he was stretching the truth a bit too far, but the crowd was with him. “When Olivia Bond left my protection I was hell-bent on getting her back any way I could. Months went by. I couldn’t find her. Finally Telford Betts came to me and told me he’d seen her here in Shawneetown. I did come here and I
did
threaten her family, it’s true. I threatened to harm Mr. LeCroix. But I knew Olivia well enough to know that the mere
threat
of harm to them would be enough, that she would go with me to save her family.”

The judge toyed with the wooden-spoon gavel. A fly buzzed around the cuts on Darcy’s face. He brushed at it, winced when he moved, and made certain the crowd noticed his terribly pained expression.

“Nice little tale, Lankanal, but get to the murder. Why did you kill Betts?” Richmond was obviously tired and irritable. It had been a long, hot afternoon for everyone, and Darcy figured even longer for someone as old as Methuselah.

“I swear I did not kill Telford Betts, as I have said before. He dropped dead in his own room. I had gone there early to wait for him, but he took so long getting back that I fell asleep on his bed. When he walked in, he told me how LeCroix had accosted him and had even tried to choke him. During the scuffle, LeCroix had dropped his knife and Betts picked it up. He was pretty proud of having snuck it into his coat without anyone seeing him do it. He was very nervous and riled up over everything that had happened, and pressing me to pay him off for leading me to Olivia. Suddenly, he turned red and fell to the floor. I thought he had passed out, but he was dead.

“When I looked down and saw LeCroix’s knife on the floor beside him, it dawned on me I could make certain that the half-breed didn’t follow me and Olivia back to New Orleans.”

The onlookers began to murmur to each other. Somewhere in the back of a room a baby fussed. Darcy waited while its mother quickly skirted between the chairs and hurried from the room. The sound of crying faded down the street.

“Are you telling me that you stabbed a
dead body
?” The judge cupped his hand around his ear.

“Yes, sir,” Darcy shouted. “I stabbed a dead body.”

Richmond nodded sagely. He pursed his lips, sucked in the bottom one, and shoved it out again. “Damnedest story I ever heard,” he muttered.

“Thank you, sir,” Darcy smiled.

Richmond said, “But if anyone doesn’t have anything else to say, you have no proof, Mr. Lankanal. All I have is the word of a fornicator, a flesh peddler, a gambler and the word of his former whore. You really expect me to believe either of you?”

Noah was on his feet again, his face filled with rage. Olivia grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.

Richmond looked over the audience. “If nobody else can speak for you, then I’ll have to declare you guilty and set the hanging for dawn tomorrow.”

Darcy’s heart fell to his toes. He grabbed the edge of the table, not certain whether he could stay on his feet. Tomorrow at dawn he would die.

Ern jumped to his feet. “Elihu, maybe …”

The judge blinked and looked up at Ern. “Dawn might be a bit too early. Let’s make it noon, then.” He opened his satchel and started shoving papers back into it.

Darcy felt the urge to run, knowing there was nowhere to go, no way to escape, even if he was capable of running. Suddenly he saw the auburn-haired girl who worked for the Bonds leap to her feet.

“Ye can’t hang ’im, sir. Not ’til I get to tell my part.”

Darcy frowned. What was her name? What could she possibly say that would save his neck from the rope?

“And what might you know relative to this case, missy?” Elihu’s gnarled hands stilled on top of his papers.

Before his legs gave out from under him, Darcy made it back to his chair. He sat down heavily and watched as the Bonds’ serving girl walked directly over to the judge’s table without a bit of hesitation.

“What’s your name, girl?”

“Molly MacKinnon. I’m the Bonds’ fetch-and-carry girl.”

She smiled down at Richmond with the same bold, impudent smile she gave everyone, but she soon sobered when Ern swore her in. Like a schoolgirl at prayer, she clasped her hands in front of her and then, in a voice loud enough for all to hear, she began.

“Mr. Lankanal came out to the cabin to threaten Mr. Bond. He said lots of bad things about Miss Livvie and finally, Mr. Bond asked him to leave, but Mr. Lankanal wouldn’t go, so me bein’ the best shot of the lot, I persuaded him. Soon as everyone was asleep, I slipped out of the loft and snuck into town. Ye see, I was gonna ask Mr. Lankanal to take
me
to New Orleans instead of Miss Livvie, for I always been wantin’ to get me a better life.”

“You say you sneaked into town the night of the murder?”

“That’s right,” she nodded, with a swift glance at Darcy.

At this point Darcy could only wait, dumbfounded like the others, to see what she was going to say. He was going to be condemned to swing for murder. Why would she want to drive the nails into his coffin?

“I saw him at the hotel, saw him go into Mr. Betts’s room and close the door. I made sure nobody saw me while I waited around in the hallway until I didn’t hear a sound inside and then slowly opened the door.”

At that point she looked down at her hands. Her shoulders drooped and she let out a long-suffering sigh. “My life ain’t been all that good since I come to America with me uncle. I thought if I could just get Mr. Lankanal to take notice of me, he’d forget about wanting Livvie back. She had no need of him, and I did.”

“I think I’m beginning to see where you are headed, young lady.” Richmond reached up and scratched his freckled head with yellow nails in need of trimming.

“Aye, sir, and though I’m not proud of myself, I’ve got to tell the truth of it. Mr. Lankanal was asleep on Mr. Betts’s bed. I slipped over and was about to wake him when I heard footsteps in the hall. I run to the wardrobe, climbed in and hid.” She shot a glance at Darcy. He straightened up on his chair. Her next words would either save or condemn him.

“Then it all happened just like Mr. Lankanal said. Betts came in, they talked and the man got all excited. He fell dead after showin’ Mr. Lankanal the knife. Then Mr. Lankanal, he tried to wake up Mr. Betts. He rolled him back and forth and laid his head on the man’s chest to listen to his heart. Then he waited a while to be sartin the man was dead before he picked the knife up and stabbed Mr. Betts.” She paused, shook her head and set her curls bobbing. “Stabbed Mr. Betts’s
body
, that is,” she quickly added. “He was already dead. I seen the whole of it, I did, and it was just like Mr. Lankanal said.”

The crowd erupted again. Darcy could only sit dumbfounded and stare at Molly MacKinnon. She was either the best actress in the world, or she really had been there, watching the whole thing. Right now, he didn’t give a tinker’s damn if she was lying or acting. Right now she was his only hope, the only thing standing between him and a hanging at noon tomorrow.