47
Hattie scared Jake to death. Nell and Mirabel managed to catch her between them as she crumpled, and they eased her into her seat. She lolled limply, head back, and Jake vaulted over the railing, roaring at the spectators straining for a better look to get out of the way and give her room to breathe. One man drew too near and Jake roughly shoved him back, his face tense with worry as he turned back to his unconscious wife.
He squatted in front of her, patting her hands and cheeks, saying, “Wake up, baby. C’mon, baby, wake up.” He glared up at Augusta. “Dammit, Mom, why won’t she wake up? Oh God, I wish Doc were here. Why the hell isn’t he here when we need him?”
Amid the babble of excited voices, the judge declared a recess and the prisoner was led away sporting a satisfied smile. The bailiff opened an antechamber and Jake swept Hattie up and carried her into the room, tenderly depositing her on the couch inside. Except for his mother, he ordered everyone else who entered the chamber to give them some privacy. The instant the last person departed, he slammed the door shut and locked it.
He was aware that the gallery was in a paroxysm of delight. The crowd had just been given enough grist for the gossip mills to last until Christmas, but he didn’t give a tinker’s damn at the moment.
He just wanted Hattie to wake the hell up.
Hattie grew aware of several things as she regained consciousness. She was stretched out on a cool leather couch and she felt very, very ill. There was a persistent rapping, a distant voice saying, “Mr. Murdock, there’s a young lady here who says it’s urgent she talk to you,” and Jake’s voice, much louder and closer, snarling impatiently, “Not now!”
She opened her eyes slowly.
Jake’s face swam into focus and she blinked up at him, raising her fingers to his lean cheek. He was squatting next to the couch, his expression strained as he grasped her fingers and pressed them to his face.
Jake turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. “Christ, Big-eyes, you scared me to death,” he said in a voice rougher than his normal tones. “Don’t do that again.”
One corner of her mouth tilted up slightly. “We’re gonna have a baby, Jake.” She attempted to sit up, but her head swam and she feared vomiting on the carpet. Subsiding, she admitted with a wry smile, “This isn’t the way I planned to tell you.”
Then she began to remember and her smile faded. Freeing her fingers, she clasped her hands at her waist. “He really told everyone, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Jake’s eyes were fierce. “I should have killed him when I had the opportunity.”
She touched his face again. “He isn’t worth it, Jacob.”
“No,” he agreed, “he’s not.” He spread his fingers on her flat stomach. “You’re really pregnant?” He studied her face intently. “Is that what caused you to faint?”
“Yeah, I jumped up, everything went white, then . . . nothing. But,” she said with grim insistence, “it wasn’t due to anything that pig said. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.” She couldn’t deny, though, that she could have lived without the public humiliation.
“Actually,” Jake informed her dryly, “I think your swoon won the approval of everyone present. For once you reacted in the expected way.”
His mother, who had taken a seat in the judge’s chair, laughed softly.
“How reassuring,” Hattie murmured. “They’ll all say I’m quite refined—for a harlot.”
“Don’t worry about it, baby. You and I are going to be living in this town for a good long time to come. We’ve got each other, our family, and a few excellent friends. If anyone wants to turn their backs on us over this, they don’t know what they’re giving up.”
Another rap on the door made Jake turn impatiently. “What?!”
Hattie cautiously eased herself upright, relieved to note the nausea had disappeared.
“Mr. Murdock? There’s a young woman here—”
Hattie could see Jake was preparing to snap the inquirer’s head off and laid a hand on his forearm. “Go find out what she wants.”
“You’re sure you’re feeling better?”
“Yes. Let her in.”
He brushed back a hank of hair that had escaped during her fall, kissed her gently, and whispered, “I’m happy about the baby, darlin’. You’re gonna make a helluva mama.” Then he rose to stride across the room to yank the door open. The young girl on the other side jumped nervously.
“Don’t frighten her, Jacob,” Hattie said in gentle reprimand. She straightened her jacket and refastened the buttons at her throat. “Let the poor girl in.”
Jake waved away the young woman’s escort and did as his wife bade. He looked at his mother. “Would you mind giving us the room, Mom?”
“Of course not.” Augusta rose from the chair behind the desk, brushed a kiss across Hattie’s forehead with a whispered encouragement, then left the room, closing the door behind her.
Jake turned to the young woman. “What’s so important?”
“My name is Maria Montgomery, sir,” she said in a soft, hesitant voice. Then, blushing profusely, she haltingly told them why she had insisted on seeing him.
“You’re willing to testify to that?” Jake asked when she had finished.
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you, Miss Montgomery. This means a lot,” he said. He gave her a few instructions and ushered her out the door. Then turned to look at his wife.
“There is justice in the world,” she exclaimed softly. “Who would have thought? Oh, Jacob, Roger is going to have a cow!” She laughed. “How absolutely, incredibly fitting.”
They grinned at each other with a perfectly attuned sense of irony. If it was diluted by a measure of maliciousness, well, it wasn’t particularly Christian of them. But they figured God might forgive them, just this once, if they couldn’t quite bring themselves to care.
Court reconvened forty-five minutes later. Jake and Hattie girded themselves as Roger Lord was recalled to the witness stand. His face carefully expressionless, Jake approached the stand.
“Now, sir,” he said in a neutral voice. “You have testified that you took my wife’s virginity, is that correct?”
A ripple of surprise went through the gallery. Everyone expected Jake Murdock to bury Lord’s shocking declaration beneath a mountain of legalese. On either side of Hattie, Nell and Augusta, who had changed places with Mirabel, reached to hold Hattie’s hands.
“That’s right,” Roger said triumphantly.
“And was it given to you willingly?”
Roger hesitated, knowing, for his freedom, he had to say yes and be done with it. Hell, either way, the little slut would be publicly ruined. But he had dreamed of this moment for too long now, and knowing he could safely rub Murdock’s nose in the fact of his wife’s helplessness that night was simply too good to pass up. Still . . . He was Roger Lord. Why not have it both ways?
“She begged me,” he replied with satisfaction. It was the truth after all. She’d screamed. Cried. He’d liked that best. Roger slid Murdock a sly smile.
“Begged you to stop?”
“No, you stupid cuckold. She said she’d never had it so good.”
Jake forcefully swallowed the hot rage urging him to climb over the barrier separating them. He’d give a bundle to wrap his hands around Lord’s throat. God forgive him, but Jake longed to tear the son of a bitch apart limb by limb.
He had an ace up his sleeve, however, and needed to keep a cool head to make the most of it. So, he stood with his hands loose by his sides even as he itched to drive the man’s nose through the back of his head. After a rapid mental check of the last few exchanges, he said coolly, “According to your earlier testimony, you took her virginity. That means she had no comparison. You might want to keep your lies straight, Lord. You used to be a more competent lawyer than this—although word has it you’re having trouble getting new clients.”
He fully expected an objection from Lord’s attorney, but Cleveland remained quiet. A fast glance over Jake’s shoulder revealed the lawyer with his elbow on the table and his forehead cradled in his palm. Roger Lord, on the other hand, surged to his feet—only to be admonished to take his seat by the judge.
He did so, and even managed to say fairly calmly, if through gritted teeth, “I’m ten times the lawyer you are, Murdock. Who taught you everything you know?”
“You did teach me quite a bit,” Jake agreed and threw in a smile just to irritate the older man. “So, act like an attorney for a moment and try to stay on track. Let me paraphrase what I’ve gleaned so far from your oath-sworn testimony. Either somehow, out of the blue, virgin Hattie threw herself at you. Or”—his voice dropped to a glacial level—“you raped my wife.”
“Oh hell, man,” Roger snapped. “There is no such thing as rape! I am a man of position, for God’s sake; I merely exercised my right to teach Hattie her rightful place.”
Jake turned toward the jury box, every muscle in his body desperate to clench like iron beneath the potency of his rage. Forcing easiness into his posture, his expression, his voice—hell, into the very tempo of his breathing—he said, “So what you’re saying, Mr. Lord, is that no woman, let alone Opal Jeffries, who, while in your home, should have had a reasonable expectation she was in a protected environment, is safe around you? Because the rules of decent behavior don’t apply to you, due to your superior personage?”
“I object, Your Honor,” Roger’s attorney said, even as Roger gave a sharp nod of self-satisfaction and replied, “Yes, I am that.”
Jake knew the defendant was responding to the second question. It didn’t hurt Opal’s case, however, that it was an admission of guilt to both Jake’s questions. The men of the jury sure as hell looked repulsed. Before the judge could sustain the objection, which Jake didn’t doubt for an instant the town justice would do, he continued smoothly, “I withdraw the questions, Your Honor, and have nothing further for the accused at this time.” He returned to his seat.
Roger was dismissed, but when the defense attorney declined to redirect, Jake once again rose to his feet. “Your Honor, I would like to call a new witness for the prosecution.”
“This is highly irregular, Mr. Murdock,” the judge replied severely. “You have already rested your case.”
“I did, Your Honor, but I never dreamed the defendant would call my wife’s virtue into question. He opened up this line of questioning when he viciously attacked my wife’s good name. A witness has voluntarily stepped forward, and I feel it imperative to address the accusation. My wife is not on trial, but Roger Lord placed her reputation at stake.”
“Very well. Call your witness.”
“The state calls Miss Maria Montgomery.”
Nell and Augusta exchanged puzzled glances, but while Hattie gave their hands a brief, comforting press, she merely whispered, “Wait,” and sat serenely composed between them.
“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“I do.”
“State your full name and occupation.”
“Maria Iris Montgomery. I am a chambermaid at the Buchannan Hotel.”
“Be seated.”
Jake stepped forward. “Miss Montgomery, would you tell the jurors why you stepped forward and asked to testify?”
“I was . . .” Her voice faltered and she cleared her throat. “I was present in the courtroom when Mr. Lord testified earlier that he had taken Mrs. Murdock’s . . . um . . . virginity.” She whispered the word, her face pink with embarrassment. “The first time he said it, I mean. When she fainted.”
“As were a lot of people, Miss Montgomery. What made you search me out?”
“Well, sir, I knew it was a lie and it hardly seemed right not to say so when that man deliberately blackened her good name.”
The gallery murmured, but Roger Lord’s voice was strident with outrage as he surged to his feet. “What?!”
“Sit down, sir,” the judge commanded, “and let there be no further outbursts.” At his lawyer’s insistent urging, Roger sat.
“How could you possibly know the state of my wife’s virtue, Miss Montgomery? You’re not a doctor.”
“No, sir, I’m a chambermaid. It was me who stripped the sheets from the bed after your wedding night at the hotel. And they was bloodied.”
“That’s a lie!” Roger was once again on his feet, his face apoplectic.
“It is not!” Maria responded indignantly. She turned to the judge, her wholesome face shining with conviction. “There were several spots of blood right in the middle of the sheet, Your Honor. God is my witness. And I did make mention of it at the time to three of the other girls what work at the hotel. Just ask ’em if I din’t.”
The judge’s gavel hit the bench. “Mr. Lord, sit down! Counselor, I advise you to warn your client about contempt of court.”
“Miss Montgomery,” Jake asked, “why would you mention such a thing to your coworkers?”
She blushed. “Well, sir, we’d heard all sorts of stories about Hattie Taylor. One of the girls said she knew for a fact she was a wild one, what with her red hair and bein’ friends with Moses Marks and all. But one of the other girls said her younger brother was in Miss Taylor’s class and that she din’t believe fair half the stories she’d heard. So, we were all curious-like.”
God bless your curiosity, Jake thought. Aloud, he merely said, “No further questions.”
“Miss Montgomery.” Arthur Cleveland stood. “How do you know Mr. Murdock didn’t simply cut himself shaving?”
“Well, sir, it woulda been an odd place to shave, wouldn’t it? There weren’t no blood anywhere else in the suite, sir. If a man cut himself, seems there woulda been bloodied towels in the bath or some such. At least that’s been my experience in the past. And he woulda had to cut a fair chunk out of his face for that much blood to travel all the way to the bed.”
“What did Mr. Murdock offer you to testify?”
“Nothing, sir. He didn’t even wanna talk to me. He was in that little room over there”—she pointed to the antechamber—“with his wife. I insisted.”
“You’re quite altruistic, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what that means, sir.”
“It means you have a high regard for the welfare of others.”
“Well, sir, I don’t know about that. I am a female. I wouldn’t half like it if some man told a lie about me and just like that ruined my reputation. It don’t seem fair that untrue words can carry so much power.”
Arthur gave up. “No further questions.”
“What do you mean no further questions?” Lord demanded. “Make her admit she’s lying.”
“How would you propose I do that?” Arthur asked him in a low voice, keeping his hand on his client’s shoulder to hold him in his chair. “She seems pretty damned convinced she’s telling the truth. The more questions I put to her, the deeper she’s digging your grave.”
“Nonsense. No one is going to take the word of a menial servant over mine!”
“Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?” God, Arthur was fed up with this man.
Miss Montgomery was dismissed, closing arguments were given, and the jurors retired to deliberate. It grew late, and stomachs rumbled reminders of a dinner hour come and gone. Yet, no one left. People milled about on the courthouse steps, men taking the opportunity to smoke, women taking the air, and everyone discreetly stretching out kinked muscles. Hushed conversations debated the outcome, and to Hattie’s satisfaction, the few she overheard appeared to find Roger’s innocence highly suspect.
Miss Eunice Peabody sailed over, halting with a creak of her formidable corsetry in front of Hattie. “I want you to know I did not believe Mr. Lord’s lies about you for one moment,” she said in her piercing whisper.
“Why, thank you, Miss Eunice.” Hattie took her declaration with a grain of salt, yet nevertheless replied with a genuine smile. “It’s most satisfying to find myself championed.”
Aurelia Donaldson also approached. She reached out to pat Hattie’s hand. “I, too, found his display disgraceful. Young Miss Montgomery was quite correct when she said ’tis most unfair that untrue words have the power to destroy a woman’s good name. The very idea!”
She peered fiercely through her lorgnette at the people nearby, as though daring anyone to disagree with her. Then she patted Hattie’s hand again. “You’re a good girl, Hattie Murdock. The people of Mattawa know quality.”
“Your assurance is indeed gratifying,” Hattie replied. “But I’d like to think the people of Mattawa would still view me as a good girl even if Roger Lord’s testimony had been true.”
Aurelia blinked, slightly affronted to have her words of praise found lacking. Around her were numerous indrawn breaths and incredulous expressions.
Hattie felt her ire rise. She looked around at the varying degrees of shock displayed on nearby faces. “Did none of you listen to what was said in there?” she questioned hotly. “My God, the real injustice is that a perfectly decent woman can be beaten and brutalized the way Opal was and then find herself ostracized on top of it! To be ruined for being unable to protect oneself seems to me to be the height of inequity.”
She could tell the concept was not well met and she shook her head sadly, turning back to her family and friends. Perhaps, in a future world, the day would come when—
“You are absolutely right.”
Hattie turned back slowly. Aurelia Donaldson’s gaze was razor-sharp behind her ever-present lorgnette.
“Mrs. Donaldson!” Eunice Peabody exclaimed in shock. “How can you agree to any such thing? And after she insulted you!”
“She did not insult me, Eunice, she simply did not tiptoe around my feelings when she spoke her mind. As I am not accustomed to that, it took me a moment to adjust, or I should have agreed sooner.”
“But that’s heresy!”
“Horsefeathers,” Aurelia said coolly as she gazed at the scandalized spinster. “Perhaps instead of drawing our skirts aside in horror from the bloodied victims of such savagery, we should think like the good Christian women we are. Perhaps we should display our empathy and say, ‘There but for the grace of God go I.’”
Eunice’s face was a mottled red as she regarded the elderly woman. She could not believe her ears and felt she really should protest. Yet, how could she? Aurelia Donaldson was the dowager queen of Mattawa society and one must not offend her. But imagine such a thing! Empathy indeed. Decent women would always draw aside from their sisters who had fallen. That was, after all, what made them decent women. Corset creaking, Eunice turned without a word and stalked away.
Aurelia turned back to Hattie and arched a brow. “Too radical for her, I daresay.”
Hattie smiled with real affection. “Well, I thought it was a grand speech.”
“I am an old woman, my dear,” Aurelia replied. “I’m allowed to speak my mind.”
Hattie knew she was also one of the richest women in town, so could do so without fear of retribution. To allude to such, however, would be ungracious and likely undeserved. She rather thought Aurelia Donaldson would have aired her views regardless of the consequence.
“I apologize if I was rude to you,” Hattie said. “I just feel quite strongly—”
“The jury is in!”
Hattie froze. This was it. The excited man who had appeared briefly around the door to make the announcement disappeared and the courthouse steps rapidly emptied. And still Hattie didn’t move.
“C’mon, Big-eyes. Let’s go find out how we did.”
She looked up at Jake. “I’m almost afraid to,” she confessed. “What if they find him innocent?”
“Then we’ll find a way to live with it.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Either way,” he continued as he ushered her inside, “Lord’s done in this town. But we have a good, strong case, and he was accommodatingly arrogant. Cross your fingers for a just verdict.”
He halted as they reached the door to the courtroom. A swift glance revealed the corridor was empty. “I was real proud of what you said out there today,” he told her, jerking his chin at the steps. “You are one helluva woman, Hattie Witherspoon Taylor Murdock.” His hand caressed her stomach. “One hell of a woman.”
Her nerves disappeared. Regardless of the outcome, she had this man. And he was more than most people could ever imagine. “I love you, Jacob Murdock,” she whispered. She rose to give him a swift kiss on the lips. “And I think you’re one helluva man, as well.”
“Why, Hattie Murdock,” he whispered with a grin. “If Mirabel Malone hears you talking that way, she’s gonna wash your mouth out with soap.” Hattie shuddered, to Jake’s amusement. “Not an experience you forget, is it?” He opened the courtroom door and they went in.
Moments later, the judge entered. Opal, standing next to Jake at the plaintiff’s table, was pale as a ghost, her slender frame trembling. Giving her hand a squeeze of encouragement, Jake hoped to hell his best turned out to be good enough.
Everyone took their seats and the judge turned to the jury. “Have you reached a verdict?”
The foreman stood. “We have, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Lord,” the judge said, “please stand.” Roger did so with haughty unconcern. The judge turned to the jurors. “Regarding the charge of rape against Opal Jeffries by Roger Lord, what say you?”
“We find the defendant—” Clearing his throat, the foreman looked directly at Roger, who gazed back at him confidently. “Guilty.”
Murmurs rose. Roger Lord promptly launched into an incredulous tirade. In the midst of it, he caught Jake’s eye and yelled, “She called your name, Murdock.” His laugh was downright demented. “Yeah, she called your name, but it didn’t do her a damn bit of good because I held her down and took what I wanted just the same.”
Hattie fought to keep all expression from her face except the shocked incredulity that would be deemed appropriate. Had she called for Jake that night? Or was Lord just making it up? She couldn’t remember.
And in all honesty? It didn’t matter. In the end, she’d won. “That man is severely insane,” she said and laughed when she was exuberantly squeezed by Nell and Aurora as she sat glued to her chair between them. The cacophony of sound barely registered—except when someone said thank God it was over, so that sweet young woman could hopefully move forward and find some peace. The words struck clear to the heart of the matter. It truly was finally over. Shooing her aunt and Nell away, she simply sat for a moment.
Sweet vindication sang in her veins like the headiest of wines. She hadn’t expected this lightness of heart. Until this moment, she didn’t even realize she hadn’t fully felt that since the night Lord robbed her of the right to bestow her virtue on the man she chose.
She looked around. Opal clung to Jake’s hand, simultaneously crying and laughing; Aunt Augusta, Nell, and Mirabel smiled and hugged each other; people all around her chatted and pressed flesh like politicians at a Fourth of July picnic as they congratulated themselves on knowing Roger Lord was guilty as sin early in the trial.
Jake’s eyes met hers over Opal’s head and she flashed him a radiant smile. Rising to her feet, she accepted and returned smiles and pecks on the cheek as she edged her way to the aisle. Then she pushed through the gate and flung herself into her husband’s arms. She smiled at Opal as she stepped back, one of Jake’s arms still loosely draped around her shoulders. “Congratulations to you both,” she said. “You did it.”
“No.” Opal returned her smile tremulously. Reaching out, she grasped Hattie’s hand, her other hand gripping Jake’s to form a loose circle. “We did it.”