CHAPTER 33
NOVEMBER 15, 1919
Julia looked at the staircase and attempted to gather the energy to go up to her quarters. Now that she was so far advanced in her pregnancy, Mrs. Middleton insisted she rest each afternoon. Yet the effort to climb the stairs was too daunting.
Perhaps she’d just put her feet up in the parlor and rest near the warmth of the fire.
She walked over to the sofa and pulled a knitted afghan across her lap. Then, with a long sigh, she took Quinn’s letters from her pocket and opened them. In truth, she’d long since memorized every word he’d written, but it still brought a measure of comfort to reread them. Running her fingers over the very ink he had penned somehow made him seem closer.
Becky had brought the first letter to her in person two months ago upon her return from England, and they’d had a nice visit. Becky told her all about the voyage, the cramped room in the boardinghouse they’d stayed in, and her mother’s amazing, albeit slow, recovery. In his next letter, Quinn had written that he would soon get his mother out of the infirmary and spoke of his pride in now having a home to take her to. Julia had actually wept tears of happiness when she read of his anticipation for his mother to see it for the first time.
Yet the fact that this home was one of her uncle’s tenant farms troubled Julia. Quinn had made it clear that the final decision as to whether or not they accepted her uncle’s gesture rested with her. But it appeared that Quinn had already assumed she would want to continue their marriage and that she would agree to return to England. Which only added to the guilt she wrestled with at the possibility of having to destroy Quinn’s dream if she chose not to go back.
To refuse, however, would now have additional consequences. In a letter, her uncle had offered his sincerest regrets at their estrangement and had made it clear that his offer of the farm was given in thanks for Quinn’s loyalty and as an olive branch in the hope that she would return to Derbyshire after the baby was born. So if she declined Uncle Howard’s generous offer, she would not only break Quinn’s heart, she would further alienate her uncle.
Julia folded the pages with a sigh. In truth, she missed Quinn desperately. Missed his calming presence, his quick wit, and his charming smile. The way he always made her feel safe and cared for. And she couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of the cheery tone of his letters. What if he became so consumed with his new life on the farm that he didn’t come back to Canada?
Back to her like he promised.
It didn’t help that she was nearing her due date, and he’d made no real mention of when he might return. Perhaps he never would and simply couldn’t bring himself to tell her. What would she do then?
That depressing idea had taken root and wouldn’t shake loose, forcing her to admit the very real possibility that she would face her future alone. To combat her anxiety, Julia spent much time in prayer, reminding herself that God was on her side and everything would be fine. No matter what Quinn ended up doing, she was strong and capable and would do whatever it took to keep her child safe.
Julia leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes, calling to mind the last time she saw Quinn at the train station. Once again, her heart had lagged behind her head. Over the course of their days together, he’d become increasingly essential to her well-being, and it wasn’t until the day of his departure that she’d acknowledged the truth. She did love Quinn—quite desperately, in fact. And she couldn’t imagine her life without him. But when she should have told him her true feelings, she couldn’t make her tongue release those few precious words.
Would it have changed anything if she’d told him sooner?
A throat cleared, causing Julia’s eyes to open.
Mrs. Banbury stood in the doorway, gazing down her nose at Julia. As Julia’s pregnancy had become more and more apparent, so had the woman’s disapproving air. She held out an envelope. “This came for you.”
Julia struggled to her feet to accept the paper. “Thank you, Mrs. Banbury.”
Despite the woman’s thinly cloaked hostility, Julia always tried to be polite, hoping if she treated the woman with kindness that perhaps one day she would realize not all English citizens were horrid creatures.
The woman left without another word, and Julia resumed her seat. She looked at the envelope and a shiver ran down her spine. The return address was from a Toronto solicitor. Surely this could not be good news.
She ripped open the flap and took out the single sheet of official letterhead.
You are required to appear before the magistrate at the Toronto courthouse on Thursday, November 27, 1919, at two o’clock to defend charges by Dr. Richard E. Hawkins regarding the paternity of your unborn child.
As the words sank into her brain, she gasped and covered her mouth.
Dr. Hawkins was demanding she go before a judge to discuss her pregnancy. What on earth would she do now? All it would take was one question from the judge and the truth of her baby’s paternity would be revealed.
Panic raced through her, causing her breath to grow shallow. Breathing was already hard enough with the babe pressing against her lungs. She rose and stretched her diaphragm, intentionally slowing her intake of air. It wouldn’t do for her to pass out.
She laid a palm on her belly, comforted to feel the flutter of life inside her. Slowly, her system settled as her breathing evened out. She would not allow anyone or anything to separate her from her child. Especially not its unscrupulous father.
Even though her husband wasn’t here, she still had their marriage certificate. As Quinn had told her, the child was his by law. But what if the judge asked her under oath to identify the true father? What would she do then?
She retrieved the paper from where it had fallen on the floor, Quinn’s words coming to mind. “If you have any trouble, promise you’ll seek Reverend Burke’s assistance.”
As much as she hated to inconvenience anyone, she would have to once again ask for help. Alone, she stood no chance of keeping her child. But with a clergyman beside her to give her some semblance of credibility, just maybe she’d have a fighting chance.
She would also enlist Mrs. Middleton’s assistance. Find out if the woman had a solicitor of her own whom Julia could hire to represent her. One thing Julia knew for certain, she couldn’t take on Dr. Hawkins in court without a professional on her side. Someone who knew the law and what rights Julia had as the baby’s mother.
She took in a steadying breath, feeling the rightness of her decisions. If it took six months of wages to pay her employer back, it would be worth it to be rid of Dr. Hawkins once and for all. And to know her baby was safe.
Thursday the twenty-seventh dawned cold and snowy, with a thick layer of white covering the ground. In one way, Julia welcomed the weather since it afforded her the opportunity to wear a heavy woolen cape. The bulk of the cloak hid the advanced stages of her pregnancy, and only a boor would ask her outright about the child’s imminent due date.
She hoped.
Upon learning of Julia’s dilemma, Mrs. Middleton had insisted on hiring a solicitor for her. She’d also wanted to accompany her to court, but Julia refused to hear of it, remembering from her wedding day the long corridors and steep flight of stairs in the building. The dear woman wouldn’t be able to manage those. In addition, there was no guarantee how long the process would take, and Julia didn’t want to tax Mrs. Middleton’s strength.
But Julia wouldn’t be alone. Mrs. Chamberlain had insisted on coming with her and Rev. Burke today.
“Quinten warned us that fellow could cause trouble,” she’d said. “I won’t hear of you facing that man alone.”
Julia had not been able to suppress her tears of gratitude. “Thank you, Mrs. C. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
And now, as the pair arrived to pick Julia up in the minister’s automobile, Mrs. Middleton saw her off at the front door with a hug. “Don’t worry, child. My solicitor will handle everything. You just stay strong.”
If only it were that easy. Especially with her queasy stomach threatening to rebel and the dull ache across her lower back that had plagued her since early morning.
“I’ll do my best.” Julia managed a smile. “Please pray for me, Mrs. Middleton. I need all the divine intervention I can get.”
They arrived at the courthouse and found a parking spot just down the road. The short walk to the imposing stone building did nothing to quell Julia’s nerves at the thought of facing Dr. Hawkins again. She paused at the foot of the stairs below the arched stone entranceway and recalled the words of her favorite Bible verse, one that always provided her with comfort.
The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped.
Julia held those words close as she followed Mrs. C. and Rev. Burke into the building, where the weight of justice seemed to echo within its very walls. How strange to be back here again. The last time, she’d been a nervous bride who never could have imagined returning under these circumstances. Would the law be her undoing, or would the judge uphold Quinn’s legal position as the rightful father of her child?
Before her, a large split staircase led to the second story. Having no idea which way to go, she made her way over to a receptionist to ask directions. The woman pointed down the main corridor to another hallway, at the end of which she would find the courtrooms.
On the way there, Julia began to feel unwell, her body slick with perspiration. When they came to a women’s lavatory, she excused herself to splash cold water on her face, hoping it would alleviate the nausea. But as she exited into the corridor, the tightness in her chest spread over her whole torso.
“My dear, come and sit down. We have a few minutes yet.” Mrs. C. ushered her over to a bench outside the courtroom.
A large clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, increasing her trepidation. She tapped one foot against the tiled floor, every nerve in her body jumping.
Rev. Burke came to sit down beside her and held out his hand to her. “Why don’t we take this time to ask for the Lord’s help before we go in?”
“That’s a good idea.” She gave a shaky smile. Prayer might be just what she needed. She placed her chilled fingers in his warm ones and took Mrs. C.’s hand with the other. When he bowed his head, she closed her eyes, drawing strength from the devout man’s steadying presence.
“Lord, we ask for your help today. Be with Julia as she faces the man who betrayed her. Protect her and her child, Lord, and give the judge the wisdom to make the right decision for all involved. In Jesus’s name we pray. Amen.”
Julia’s throat thickened. “Thank you. For the prayers and for coming with me today.” She gulped in a breath. “I only wish Quinn could be here.”
The minister squeezed her hand. “I consider it a privilege to stand with you in his stead.”
“We both do.” Mrs. C. gave her a quick hug.
The courtroom doors opened, and several people exited, followed by two solicitors.
Rev. Burke rose immediately and assisted Julia to her feet.
A man approached from her right. “Good day, Mrs. Aspinall.”
“Mr. Nelson. It’s good to see you.” She’d already met the solicitor once at Mrs. Middleton’s house, where she’d explained the situation, and he’d assured her he’d do his best to protect her child. “These are my friends, Reverend Burke and Mrs. Chamberlain.”
“Nice to meet you.” Mr. Nelson gave a tight-lipped smile. “If you’re ready, shall we go in?”
She drew in a fortifying breath and nodded.
They entered the interior of the courtroom. Only a few people sat in the rows of seats behind a wooden railing separating the spectators from the lawyer’s area. A somber-looking man in black robes and a gray wig sat high on the judge’s bench.
Once he spied them, he banged a gavel on the desk. “Next case on the docket, Dr. Richard Hawkins versus Mrs. Julia Aspinall.”
Mr. Nelson escorted her to the front of the room. “Here we are, Your Honor. Mr. Eugene Nelson representing Mrs. Aspinall.” He motioned for Julia to sit at one of the tables in front of the bench.
Julia glanced over her shoulder to see Mrs. C. and Rev. Burke taking their seats behind her.
The judge turned his attention to the other side of the room. “Mr. Kendall, I assume you are representing Dr. Hawkins.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Very well. You may proceed.”
Julia stiffened on the hard chair, resisting the urge to glance at Dr. Hawkins.
Mr. Nelson leaned over and whispered in Julia’s ear. “Remember, it’s vital that you do not react to whatever he says. We will have our time for rebuttal afterward.”
She nodded, staring straight ahead at the judge. Her stomach cramped, and she prayed she wouldn’t retch. This whole ordeal was humiliating enough without that.
Mr. Kendall spoke for several minutes, relaying the history of Dr. Hawkins’s relationship with Julia.
The judge appeared to listen intently, and when the lawyer finished, he said, “So, to sum up, Dr. Hawkins claims that Mrs. Aspinall, while unmarried, entered into a physical relationship with him, which he believes resulted in her pregnancy.”
“Correct, sir.”
“And subsequently, after having no contact with Dr. Hawkins for several months, she married another man.” The judge peered down at a paper on his desk. “A Mr. Quinten Aspinall, who has now returned to his homeland of England, effectively abandoning her and the unborn child.”
A sharp cry escaped Julia. “That is not true!”
“Mrs. Aspinall. Please restrain yourself.” Mr. Nelson’s sharp whisper hissed in her ear.
She clamped her lips together and bowed her head. Her heart pumped loudly in her chest, and she couldn’t seem to draw in enough air.
“Please continue, Mr. Kendall.”
“Dr. Hawkins contends that Mrs. Aspinall is lying about the paternity of her child and that she married another man in order to deprive him of his only progeny. Thus, he believed his only course of action was to bring the matter before the court and have the woman swear to the identity of the true father under oath.”
The judge frowned. “Why is Dr. Hawkins so certain the child is not Mr. Aspinall’s?”
“The marriage took place when Mrs. Aspinall was already advanced in her pregnancy. Unless she had relations with two men out of wedlock, which of course given the circumstances could well be within the realm of possibility, the child is more likely to belong to Dr. Hawkins. He believes that in order to cover the shame of her condition, she coerced some unsuspecting fool into marrying her.”
Julia bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Tears of shame and anger pooled in her eyes, and she blinked hard to keep them from falling. At this moment, she was thankful that Quinn wasn’t on hand to witness this degradation. He certainly would have created an unpleasant scene and perhaps gotten himself arrested in the process.
“I suppose the only manner to ascertain the truth of the situation is to have Mrs. Aspinall come forward.” He stared at her. “Ma’am, if you will approach the witness stand, the bailiff will swear you in.”
Dear Lord, help me. . . .
Mr. Nelson stood and put a hand under her elbow to help her rise. She paused for a moment to steady herself. There was no way to avoid it. She would have to admit Dr. Hawkins was the father of her child and throw herself on the judge’s mercy. What would he do? Would her marriage certificate save her, or would he disregard it as a mere ruse?
Despite her unsteady legs, she made it up to the platform and sank onto the chair.
Glancing out over the room, her gaze fell on Mrs. Chamberlain, who smiled and nodded her encouragement.
Then the bailiff approached carrying a black Bible with gold lettering. He held it out to her. “Place your left hand on the Bible and raise your right hand. Do you swear the testimony you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” His voice boomed over the silent room.
The LORD is my strength and my shield.
Julia ran her tongue over her lips, then stiffened her spine. “I do.”
Mr. Kendall came forward, a smug look on his florid face. “For the record, state your name, please.”
“Mrs. Julia Holloway Aspinall.”
“Mrs. Aspinall, is it true you were married in July of this year?”
“Yes.”
“And you are soon to give birth?”
She swallowed. “Around Christmas, yes.”
Mr. Kendall leaned on the railing in front of her, his small eyes staring hard. “Mrs. Aspinall, is Dr. Richard Hawkins the father of your child?”
She clutched her handbag until her fingers ached. Under the weight of Richard’s stare, as well as the disapproving whispers of several other spectators, a deep resentment began to well up within her. Why was she being made out to be the villain here? Mr. Kendall had done nothing but attack her reputation. Made her out to be a woman of loose morals. But he hadn’t given the court a true account of her situation. Shouldn’t the judge have all the facts before making his decision?
She turned her head. “Your Honor, may I say something before I answer the question?”
The robed man studied her for a moment. “I suppose I can allow that. Go ahead.”
She swallowed and did her best to ignore the lawyer’s glare.
“Mr. Kendall made it sound like I had a long-standing relationship with Dr. Hawkins, and that I participated willingly in . . . having relations with him. But that is not the case.” Despite the excruciating agony of discussing such personal details, she lifted her chin. “It happened only once, at a time when I was heavily medicated, as per Dr. Hawkins’s orders. I didn’t . . .” She paused and, steeling herself, turned her gaze on Richard. Some type of intense emotion burned in his eyes. Was it hatred or fear?
“You didn’t what, Mrs. Aspinall?” The judge frowned at her.
She clenched her fingers together and gathered her courage. “I did not consent to having relations with him.”
Commotion erupted from across the room.
“That’s ridiculous. . . .”
“She’s lying. . . .”
“My client is a respected physician . . . he would never . . .”
Bits and pieces of their words drifted by her. Images darted across her line of vision. The red face of the other attorney. Richard’s stunned expression. Her own solicitor shouting, trying to be heard above the din.
Three sharp raps of the gavel finally stilled the chaos. Julia realized she’d been holding her breath. The growing discomfort in her lower back that had plagued her all morning now intensified, radiating through her whole body.
“Are you accusing Dr. Hawkins of a crime, Mrs. Aspinall?” the judge asked. “Think carefully before you answer, because what you are insinuating is a very serious charge.”
He was scolding her like a wayward schoolgirl. Of course he would side with a respected physician and assume she was lying. How could she make him believe her?
She twisted on her seat in an attempt to catch Rev. Burke’s eye. Could he step in to support her or say something in her defense? He merely shook his head, the sympathy on his face bringing hot tears to her eyes.
“Mrs. Aspinall. I asked you a question.” The judge’s sharp voice sliced through her. “Are you saying Dr. Hawkins forced—”
“Ah!” A razor-sharp pain ripped across Julia’s abdomen. She bent over her knees, breathing hard.
“Mrs. Aspinall, are you all right?” The judge’s voice echoed from a distance.
She couldn’t answer him, too intent on drawing oxygen into her lungs.
“Mr. Nelson, if your client is unable to proceed, we can take a brief recess for her to compose herself.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“You are excused for the moment, Mrs. Aspinall. You may step down.”
Perspiration beaded on Julia’s forehead. She gripped the railing and attempted to rise, but the pain intensified. She bit her lip to keep from crying out again.
“Let me help you.” Mr. Nelson’s kind voice barely registered.
Julia released her grip on the rail and grasped his hand. Just as she went to take a step down, another spasm knifed through her. She screamed and pitched forward, crumpling to the ground as everything around her went black.