Shattered Moments (25 page)

September 1626

Virginia

Louisa stared at Sir George resentfully as he took his place at the little table placed next to the pulpit.  For lack of a courthouse, the trial was to be held at the church, in full view of God and man.  Members of the governor’s council would sit in the front pew, and act as both judge and jury in the case of the Colony of Virginia against Lord Christopher Sheridan.  The council consisted of about a dozen wealthy and influential members of Virginia society, most of them friends and acquaintances of several years, which could either serve to gain Kit favor, or work against him as they meted out a harsher judgment in their effort not to show favor to one of their own.  Sir George avoided Louisa’s piercing gaze, choosing instead to rearrange some papers and make sure that he had enough wine in his cup should his throat run dry during the proceedings. 

Women were expected to sit toward the back, but Louisa took a seat in the third pew next to Frederick Taylor
, who was alone since Barbara stayed back to look after the children.  She’d chosen her most somber gown and a simple bonnet for the trial in the hope that she would appear God-fearing and deserving of the council’s sympathy, but she knew it made no difference.  They all knew her, and their opinion of her had been formed a long time ago.  Louisa knew that although some members of the council were kind, forgiving men, the rest still remembered her transgression from a few years ago, their disapproval at her lack of appropriate punishment still as fresh as it had been when her and Kit first returned to the colony.  Well, there was nothing she could do about any of that now.  It was water under the bridge, and hopefully, have no bearing upon the outcome of Kit’s trial.  All she could do was hope and pray that these men didn’t allow past incidents to cloud their judgment as they decided her husband’s fate. 

Louisa
barely acknowledged Charles as he stopped by to offer his support, his face tight and full of contrition as he stood over her, desperate for forgiveness.  Annabel didn’t bother to greet Louisa, but took a seat at the back of the church, only there to testify against Kit.  Annabel normally dressed as fashionably as she could, favoring pastels and lace, but today she was wearing a gown of charcoal-gray, relieved only by a little white lace at the sleeves and throat.  Her golden hair was tucked into the matching bonnet, making her look like a good little Quaker. 

Louisa felt an overwhelming wave of rage as she studied Annabel’s complacent face.  She held Kit’s life in her hands, but she didn’t seem to care, ready to give her venomous testimony and send him to the gallows, based on a snippet of conversation she just “happened” to conveniently overhear.  Louisa turned her back on Annabel and resumed her relentless study of Sir George.  She hoped that the
goddamned coward would have enough guts to do the right thing, but Sir George was a political animal, interested only in his own standing in the community and advancement.  Sacrificing Kit to appear to uphold the law of the colony would be a small price to pay if it made him look good in the eyes of the king, who might or might not hear of his good deeds.

The church filled up quickly
; the high society of the colony starved for entertainment and unwilling to miss the social event of the season.  The trial would be discussed for months to come, especially if the verdict was death.  Louisa nearly gagged with disgust as she noticed that most women were wearing their finery, eager to see and be seen by the rest of Virginia society.  They nodded to each other as they scanned the pews, searching for a place closest to the front.  Louisa was surprised to see that Mrs. Deverell was not among the spectators, either out of guilt, or out of desire to gain pity by playing the grieving widow.  However, Sir George’s wife swept into the church in an ill-concealed attempt to make an entrance, and wearing a gown of an alarming shade of chartreuse that made her look greenish and sallow.  Her bonnet sported matching feathers that shook with indignation when she couldn’t find a seat appropriate to her station. Most women of the colony wore clothes made of homespun, dyed in muted colors derived from colorants found in nature, but Lady Yardley had all her gowns shipped from England and dressed as if she were still at Court.

Once the church was full and all the members of the
council seated, along with the lieutenant governor, Kit was finally brought in and made to stand facing the spectators, his wrists shackled, more in an effort to humiliate rather than restrain.  Kit had donned a clean shirt and shaved for the trial, but his face was pale and gaunt, the resentment clearly visible in his gaze as he scanned the crowd, looking for Louisa.  His face seemed to relax a fraction as he found her and gave her an imperceptible nod to reassure her that he was all right and ready to face whatever came.  She gave him a reassuring smile as her stomach heaved with fear, the muscles clenching and the bile rising in her throat.  Louisa averted her eyes before Kit could see the unbidden tears that blurred her vision and made her nose run.  Louisa concentrated on extracting her handkerchief out of her skirt pocket, unwilling to allow Kit to see her fears.  She blew her nose and looked around for Mr. Brooks, who was consulting with Sir George.  Mr. Brooks was wearing an elaborate wig, which would have made Louisa giggle had she not been so terrified.

Louisa sucked in her breath as the court was called to order
, the charge read against her husband as a pregnant hush fell over the crowd, eager for the trial to begin.  Kit’s face remained bland, but she could see his lips compress and his hands ball into fists beneath the iron shackles.  If Mr. Brooks failed to prove his innocence, he would hang as soon as tomorrow.  Of course, Mr. Brooks could hardly prove that Lord Sheridan was innocent without presenting the court with some evidence of who had actually killed Aloysius Deverell, but they’d worked out a plan, which would hopefully be enough to get Kit off.

Sir George called Annabel to come up and testify, referring to her as a respected member of the community and a woman of faith and virtue. 
That bastard
, Louisa thought, fuming inwardly,
he’s practically saying that her testimony is indisputable
.  Annabel rose from her seat and made her way to the front, walking as if she were performing a complicated balancing act on a rope suspended over a precipice.  She didn’t look at anyone, especially Charles, whose eyes were still begging her to reconsider.  Louisa knew he’d tried to forbid her to testify, but Annabel was adamant.  She’d have her say, no matter what.  She wanted someone to pay for her brother’s death, and if that someone happened to be Kit, then so be it.  She’d have her pound of flesh, regardless of whose flesh it was. 

Annabel recounted the conversation she’d overheard that afternoon, her voice low and shaking with emotion as if she had personally suffered through Deverell’s death.  Her face was chalky, her eyes glazed with memory, and her hands clasped in front of her.
  Louisa had to admit that it was quite a performance, if that’s what she’d been aiming for.  Thankfully, there were no other witnesses against Kit, so Annabel’s story would have to be iron-clad in order to produce a sentence of death by hanging.  Louisa reminded herself to breathe as Mr. Brooks approached Annabel and bid her a good morning. 

His appearance was so mild and unthreatening that Annabel relaxed slightly, nodding in greeting and even smiling a little.  Her hands unclasped, smoothing the fabric of her skirt as she looked at Mr. Brooks expectantly, ready to flee to her seat and watch justice in action.  What could this little man do to dispute her testimony?  After all, she’d heard Kit
threatening to kill Deverell loud and clear.  What could the lawyer say to dispute that?  A barely noticeable sneer appeared on Annabel’s face as she raised her chin defiantly, daring Mr. Brooks to question her.  He gave a small bow to the council before proceeding.

“Mrs. Whitfield, it’s so good of you to come and testify before this court.  As a person of impeccable moral character, it’s surely your duty to see justice done, especially since the crime is so heinous and unexpected.  It must have taken a great deal of courage to speak up against your brother-in-law with whom you’ve been residing at Rosewood Manor for some years.”  Louisa watched with satisfaction as Annabel’s pride at being called courageous and virtuous was tinged by
embarrassment at Mr. Brooks’ implication that she was a snake in the grass. 

“Mrs.
Whitfield, would you be so kind as to tell us exactly where Lord Sheridan and Mr. Deverell were situated during the course of this heated exchange?”

“They were halfway to the pond, Mr. Brooks,” Annabel stated, clearly confused by why he would ask such a question.

“Halfway to the pond, you say?  Well, that’s actually a very interesting point.  You see, I’ve measured the distance from the house to the pond, and it’s over a hundred feet.  Their voices must have been quite loud for you to hear every word of their conversation from fifty feet away.”

Annabel’s mouth opened with indignation, her eyes firing daggers of resentment at the little lawyer.  “I was sewing by the window
, and their voices carried on the wind.  I heard them as clearly as I hear you,” she spat out, looking over the assembly and daring them to contradict her.

“I see.  I don’t recall that we’ve had any particularly breezy days the
se past two weeks, but I will certainly take your word for it.  After all, you are only doing your civic duty by reporting what you’ve heard, and I don’t doubt for a second that you are confident in your recollection of events.  I applaud your self-sacrifice in coming here today, Mrs. Whitfield, and thank you for your candor.  I only have one question before I release you.  What time did you say you overheard this exchange between Lord Sheridan and Mr. Deverell?”

“It was at noon.  The sun was riding high in the sky
, and Cook was preparing luncheon,” Annabel answered defensively.

“Thank you, dear lady,” Mr. Brooks intoned, bowing to Annabel.  “You are free to go.” 

He waited until Annabel floated back to her seat, her face now less tense and a sly smile of satisfaction playing about her lips.  There were no other witnesses, so the outcome was certain.  Sir George was about to say something when Mr. Brooks held up his hand, asking for patience.

“Sir George, as it happens, I have
three more witnesses that I would like to call to testify today.  If you would just indulge me, please; after all, we’re talking about the life of a man, a pillar of the community, and a good friend to us all; someone who could always be counted on in times of need to rise to the occasion and help in whatever way necessary.”  Sir George glanced away in shame, but Kit just smirked into his goatee, strangely amused by Mr. Brooks’s tactics.

“By all means, Mr. Brooks.  You must call as many witnesses as you can muster.  We’ll be here all day if we must to see justice done.  We would never pass such a grim sentence lightly, and all avenues must be explored.”

“I respectfully agree, sir.”  Mr. Brooks turned to face the congregation as if searching for someone.  He smiled benevolently as he spotted his next witness, calling Miss Minerva Pike to the front.

“Good morning, Miss Pike,” he said, smiling his most reassuring smile.  “Would you be so kind as to tell us what your role at Rosewood Manor is?”

“Yes, sir.  I work as a maid at Rosewood Manor, assisting in all household duties.  Everyone calls me Minnie, though.  Minerva is so lofty.”  Minnie giggled nervously, making a few people smile at her lack of guile.

“Minnie, can you tell us what tasks you normally perform at noon?  Are you in the house at that time?”

“Oh, yes, sir.  Noon is a very busy time.  Cook usually prepares luncheon for the family while I see to luncheon for the children.  They eat in the kitchen at noon before the rest of the family dines at one o’clock.”

“Really?  The children eat separately?” Mr. Brooks looked over the assembly as if shocked by this bit of news.

“Why, yes, sir.  They are still little, they are, and they need help eating.  Besides, they don’t eat the same food as the grown-ups.”

“And how many children are there, Minnie?”

Minnie gazed up at the ceiling as she took a mental roster.  “There are five, sir.  Mr. Charles’s children are no longer there, but before they left, there were five.  They’re aged one to four.”

“They must be quite a handful
,” Mr. Brooks remarked as he gave Minnie an exaggerated look of sympathy.

“Oh, yes.  They cause such a ruckus I can barely hear myself think.  We all breathe a sigh of relief when they go down for their nap after luncheon.  It’s the only quiet time we have until they go to bed at night.”

“Minnie, do you see to the children all by yourself?”

“No, sir.  Genevieve also helps since Tom, Millie, and Robbie still need feeding.”

“Minnie, you’ve been most helpful.  If you would just answer one more thing for me.  How close is the kitchen to the parlor?”

“Oh, it’s just down the hall, sir.  There’s also an outdoor kitchen that’s used for roasting meat and making food for the field workers, but Cook uses mostly the indoor kitchen for making luncheon and meals for the family.”

Minnie curtsied and scurried away, blushing furiously as Mr. Brooks praised her once again for having the courage to take the stand.  Sir George fiddled with a ring on his finger, his brow creased with annoyance as Mr. Brooks called his next witness to the stand.

“I call Miss Genevieve Whitfield.”  Genevieve took her place, her cheeks stained with patches of red as she shyly looked around the full church.  She looked as if she’d rather be
anywhere else, but she would do anything to help Lord Sheridan.