Blood Blade Sisters Series (Entangled Scandalous)

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Blood Blade Sisters Series (Entangled Scandalous) Page 58

by Michelle McLean


  “Come on,” she said, drawing him back to the cot. “Talk to me.”

  Finn’s eyebrows rose. “About what?” He settled down beside her, keeping her hands in his.

  “Anything. What are we going to do once I’m out of here? Where will we go?”

  “Lucy…”

  “You asked me to run away with you not too long ago. Where were you going to take me?”

  Finn’s thumb rubbed over her knuckles, back and forth. “I thought we could go back to California, so you could be near your family.”

  “To the ranch?”

  Finn nodded and gave her a faint smile. “I’ve never seen it. But Jake told me about it, in his letters. He loved it there.” Finn laughed. “I thought perhaps your sister was a witch who’d bespelled him because never in all my born days would I have believed that Jacob Forrester would want to settle down with a girl and raise babies.”

  Lucy smiled. “Well, we Richardsons can be a formidable bunch. Once Brynne had decided she wanted him, he hardly stood a chance.”

  “That’s true enough. A stubborn lot, all three of you.”

  Lucy looked at their entwined hands, her heart skipping with each soft brush of his fingers over hers. “It’s strange to think that you were so close to me, but we didn’t meet. Of course, had you met me then you would have run for the hills as fast as your feet could carry you.”

  “Love, I’ve been trying to make a run for it since the moment I clapped eyes on you.”

  Lucy gasped in mock outrage and slapped at him, but he smiled and pulled her back into his arms. “But no matter how hard I tried to stay away, something in those big brown eyes of yours keeps pulling me back.”

  “Well, I’m grateful for that at least. But when I get out of here I’m going to invest in a strong pair of chains to keep you from ever running again.”

  “I’ll wear them gladly if they will keep you shackled to me. You get into entirely too much trouble when you are left to run amuck on your own.”

  “That sounds heavenly to me.”

  The guard came bustling back in and opened the cell door. “Time is up.”

  Finn stood, drawing Lucy up with him. Lucy clung to him, panic clawing at her. She was suddenly terrified that if he walked out that door, she’d never see him again.

  He pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace, kissing her until her head spun. He pulled away just far enough so he could whisper in her ear. “The fight isn’t over yet. Lilah or no Lilah, I will not let you hang.”

  He kissed her one last time and strode out the door, a new purpose in his step. Lucy watched him go with hope and terror warring in her heart.

  For now, at least, the hope won, and for the first time in many days, she was able to sleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Finn watched as the woman darted across the street, holding her cloak tight about her against the cold night air. He waited until she came to the door of the dilapidated building where she’d been living, and then he stepped from the shadows.

  “Lilah.”

  She gave a muffled shriek and clapped her hands over her mouth. “Mr. Finn, that you?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry I frightened you.”

  Lilah rocked on her feet, her eyes darting around.

  He held up a hand like he was trying to calm a skittish horse. “I’m alone. I just want to talk to you.”

  Lilah studied him and then nodded. She led him inside and he waited until she’d lit a lone candle and waved him into a chair by her cold hearth before he said anything.

  He didn’t waste any time but came right to the point. “She’s going to hang.”

  Lilah blanched, her face puckering in distress. “I gotta come back. I can’t let her hang, not for me. I’ll come back. I’ll tell them I done it.”

  “It’s not quite that simple,” Finn said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “If the judge even allowed you to testify, none of us want to see you hang in Lucy’s place, and she’d skin me alive if I allowed it.”

  Lilah shook her head, tears flowing down her face. “That Miz Lucy has the kindest heart I ever come across and that’s the God’s honest truth, but she the craziest woman I ever come across, too.”

  Finn snorted. “No argument here.”

  “So, what can we do?”

  “We need to show Halford for who he really is. There’s no denying you killed him, but you killed an evil man to save two innocent lives. There’s no crime in that. We just need to prove it. And I need your help.”

  “I’ll do anything I can.”

  Finn nodded. “Good. Now, I’ve been Halford’s right-hand man for long enough that I know where to find certain incriminating documents and possibly some stores of contraband that the authorities won’t be able to ignore. As long as I can get to them and he hasn’t moved them.”

  “And what do you need me to do?”

  “A lot of the evidence I need is at Philip’s house and I can’t get near it at the moment. Even though Halford is dead, his servants still see me as an extension of him. They won’t speak to me. I need you to get me inside, get the servants to talk to me, convince them to give statements. The more evidence we have against him, the better.”

  Lilah nodded. “I can do that. But I gotta own up to what I done, too. I can’t let no innocent woman, especially someone like Miz Lucy, suffer any more for what I done.”

  Finn hesitated.

  “Mr. Finn, you know it’s the only way to make sure she don’t hang.”

  Finally, he nodded. Lilah was a good woman and she’d saved his life, and Lucy’s. For that, he’d owe her a lifetime. But Lucy could not hang. And Lilah was right. It was the only way to be sure she wouldn’t.

  “Lucy will be furious, at both of us, though me especially, I think. But, we won’t abandon you. Lucy’s lawyer will defend you. I promise you, you won’t hang.”

  Lilah shook her head. “You can’t promise me that. It don’t matter though. I can’t let Miz Lucy hang.”

  Finn took Lilah’s hand. “I can promise it. If they do convict you, I’ll break into the prison myself and get you out. You will not hang. But Lucy will if we don’t do something.”

  Lilah stood. “Then we’d better hurry.”

  Finn released a long breath. “We had indeed.”

  …

  Lucy thought often of that restful night of sleep over the next several days. It was the last peace she had. The last opportunity she’d had to see Finn. Her trial had begun. The case was so notorious the city wanted it over and done with as soon as possible. Those who’d supported Philip called out for justice to be served. Those who knew Lucy called out for her acquittal.

  Unfortunately, Lucy had former slaves and poor white laborers on her side, while Philip had some of the most influential people in North Carolina, and beyond, on his. No one would listen to those who spoke of Lucy’s kindness and generosity. The papers painted her as a loose woman of questionable morals who’d tried to trap the virtuous Philip and when that hadn’t worked, she’d killed him in a fit of jealousy.

  Her injuries at the time she was taken were chalked up to a fight with another lover, a mysterious savage who’d been shot and killed by Philip when he’d found the man and his ladylove in flagrante delicto. No one seemed to connect Finn, who’d continued to hide his tattoos, to the tattooed mystery man, nor did they find it strange that Philip’s right-hand man was Lucy’s staunchest supporter. Or if they did, they ignored it in the interest of a juicier tale. No one seemed interested in the truth. Least of all the jury of her so-called peers.

  Mr. Fitzhugh had few defense witnesses he could call, nearly all of them serving only as character witnesses who testified to Lucy’s kindness, generosity, and general sweet disposition. Unfortunately, all but two of the witnesses were the lower-class whites and former slaves whose testimonies the jury didn’t even pretend to listen to. No matter what laws had been passed after the Civil War, laws Mr. Fitzhugh insisted the court follow, folks still weren’t keen
on seeing blacks in the courtroom. Though Lucy’s friends were testifying for her and not necessarily against Mr. Halford, it was obvious their presence was unwanted and having them there at all showed how desperate Mr. Fitzhugh was to find someone to speak well of Lucy.

  Lucy and Mr. Fitzhugh had gone back and forth on whether or not she should take the stand in her own defense. Mr. Fitzhugh didn’t want to give the prosecution any more ammunition than they already had, should Lucy answer a question in an unflattering way. But Lucy was hopeful if they could just hear her side of the story from her own lips, that she’d be able to sway enough of them.

  Mr. Fitzhugh leaned over to whisper in Lucy’s ear. “There is one more witness I can call. I know you will object, but—”

  Lucy was already shaking her head. “No. You will not call Finn.”

  “He has evidence to submit that will prove what kind of man Halford is. It might help your case. It’s the only card we’ve got left.”

  “No,” Lucy insisted. “He can’t present that evidence without incriminating himself. It won’t do me any good to be acquitted just to see the man I love hang for crimes he was compelled to commit. Leave Finn out of this.”

  “Miss Richardson…”

  “I said no. If you attempt to call Finn to the stand, I will fire you on the spot and defend myself.”

  Mr. Fitzhugh gave her a withering look but nodded in agreement.

  “Call me to the stand.”

  He sighed and stood. “Your honor, I call Miss Lucy Richardson to the stand.”

  Lucy glanced back to see Finn, his face red with fury. He half stood and Lucy shook her head, pleading with him to understand, trying to put all the love she felt for him in her eyes.

  She walked slowly to her seat, her head held high, though her insides were quivering like Brynne’s Christmas pudding. She placed her hand on the Bible held before her and proclaimed in a loud clear voice that she would say nothing but the truth, so help her God.

  And then the questions began.

  Mr. Fitzhugh led her through the events of the day, and she told her story minus a few of the more scandalous details that she hoped wouldn’t need to be revealed. The prosecutor, Mr. Button, apparently had other ideas.

  “Miz Richardson, isn’t it true that when you came to our fair city, you registered at the Chatford Hotel as Miz Lucy Taggart?”

  Lucy hesitated, but she had to answer. “Well, yes, but—”

  “And isn’t it true that you knowingly lied to Mr. Philip Halford about who you were and what your purpose in coming to Charlotte was?”

  “No, I—”

  “So you informed Mr. Halford as to your true identity?”

  “No, but…”

  “What was your purpose in coming to Charlotte?”

  “I came looking for a friend.”

  “I see. And what would that friend’s name be?”

  Lucy’s stomach flipped. She didn’t want to drag Finn into this.

  “Miz Richardson?”

  “Finnegan Taggart.”

  “Is this the same Finnegan Taggart who was employed by the deceased and who you identified as your cousin?”

  “Well, no. Mr. Taggart was employed by Mr. Halford, but I never told him Mr. Taggart was my cousin. Someone else did.”

  “But you didn’t correct the misunderstanding, did you?”

  “No.”

  “And since you continued to use the name in the community, it is reasonable to conclude that Mr. Halford remained under the impression that you were in fact Mr. Taggart’s cousin until the day of his death.”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” Mr. Fitzhugh said. “My client has no way of knowing what Mr. Halford did or did not think.”

  “Sustained,” the judge said. But he didn’t look happy about it.

  Mr. Button nodded and pursed his lips. “Miz Richardson, did you ever refer to Mr. Taggart as your cousin in Mr. Halford’s hearing?”

  Lucy’s stomach dropped lower. “Yes.”

  “Did Mr. Halford ever refer to Mr. Taggart as your cousin in your hearing?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you presented yourself to Mr. Halford as a cousin of his trusted employee. To what purpose?”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” Mr. Fitzhugh broke in again. “None of this is relevant to the case.”

  “The relevance will be made known, Your Honor, if you’ll allow me a little leeway,” Button said.

  The judge nodded. “Overruled.”

  Mr. Fitzhugh sat back down, his jaw clenched tight. Lucy kept her back straight, hoping an outward appearance of calm would hide the chaos of emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

  “Answer the question please.”

  “I didn’t have any purpose really for saying Mr. Taggart was my cousin. It was just easier to not correct the assumption.”

  “So, because it was easier than telling the truth, you allowed Mr. Halford to believe, throughout the course of his courtship of you, that you were the cousin of Mr. Taggart.”

  “I…we didn’t really have a courtship.”

  “Relevance, Your Honor!” Mr. Fitzhugh shouted from his table.

  Mr. Button held up his hand, his chest puffing up to twice its size. He turned a predatory gaze on Lucy, who had to pinch her thigh to keep from flinching.

  “The relevance is that Mr. Halford entered into a courtship with a woman he believed to be the close kinswoman of a trusted friend and employee, a woman who has just admitted that she knowingly lied to Mr. Halford about her identity so that she could seduce him for her own as yet undiscovered, nefarious purposes. Believing her lies as he did, when he found them, in Miz Richardson’s bedchamber, entwined together as only a man and wife should be, the shock of it all sent poor Mr. Halford into such a state that he reacted as any man in love would. And when this deceitful, disgraceful woman thought her lover was being threatened, she attacked Mr. Halford, striking him over the head with such force that she bashed his brains in. Isn’t that true, Miz Richardson?”

  There was a collective gasp from the audience and Lucy’s gaze darted around frantically, trying to find someone, anyone, who might still be looking at her with sympathy.

  “No…no…”

  Only…it was true. It had happened exactly as Mr. Button had said. Without adding the facts about Philip’s true nature, his ties to the smuggling ring, the KKK, his forced indenture of Finn, Philip did seem like an unwitting victim. And there was no way to prove he was anything else. Or that Lucy was anything other than a lying, deceitful murderess.

  “Your honor!” Finn stood, leaning over the partition that separated the audience from the court participants.

  “Order!” the judge said.

  “Your honor, I have evidence to present that will prove that Mr. Halford was not the upstanding citizen he presented himself as.”

  The courtroom was in an uproar. Mr. Button shouted that Finn had no right to speak, Mr. Fitzhugh yelled at Mr. Button, the audience members were beside themselves with the drama, and Lucy’s sisters were shouting themselves hoarse that Finn should be heard.

  “Enough! Order! Order!” the judge yelled, banging his gavel with such vehemence Lucy thought it would go straight through the desk.

  “Bailiff! Remove that man from my court, at once!”

  Lucy covered her mouth to keep from crying out. Finn kept shouting, listing all Philip’s crimes as he was dragged from the courtroom. No one paid any attention to him. And no one cared about anything else Lucy or her lawyer had to say.

  Mr. Button rested. Mr. Fitzhugh had no choice but to rest as well.

  It took the jury only twenty-three minutes to find her guilty.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lucy had to wait for her formal sentencing. Alone, in her cell. They wouldn’t let her see anyone but her lawyer, and he had precious little hope to share with her. They both knew she’d hang.

  Lucy knew she should be terrified, but all she felt was a sad sort of calm. It was over. No more anticipation, no mo
re false hope, no more wondering and praying. Just resignation.

  As long as she didn’t think about Finn.

  The thought of leaving him behind shredded the last remaining thread of soul she had left. She was sad to be leaving her sisters as well. Regretted that she wouldn’t get to see her nieces and nephews grow up.

  But Finn…he was what made her want to curl up in a ball of misery and howl at the fates that had led her to this moment. She wasn’t proud of the thoughts that ran through her head, but in her weakest moments she cursed Lilah and herself and even God for giving Finn back to her only to rip her away from him again. Only this time it would be permanent. What sort of cruel deity would toy with them like this? Let them spend one glorious day in each other’s arms only to lose each other forever?

  But thoughts like those brought her to the brink of despair, and she couldn’t afford to fall over that ledge. She had an execution to get through. And she would go to it with her head held high. She was innocent, and she wouldn’t let her enemies make her cower.

  And so she prayed. She spent hours on her knees, praying for forgiveness, for strength, for courage. She didn’t sleep much. She didn’t want to waste the last moments of her life oblivious to the world, though it was tempting to slip into her dreams. In her dreams, she was with Finn again, married, watching their children play, growing old together. They were wonderful, beautiful dreams. But waking from them was a cruel torture that she dreaded more with each night.

  On the third day, Lucy heard her prison door open and looked up to see Finn walking in. She sprang at him, launching herself into his arms before she’d even realized she’d moved.

  Finn gathered her close and held her, wiping away the tears she hadn’t realized were running down her cheeks.

  “How did you get them to let you in?”

  “A big fat bribe,” Finn said with a smile that quickly melted away. “I’ve been trying to get in since the trial. But they wouldn’t let me come until now.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.” Lucy wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

  “Lucy, I’m sorry, so sorry for all those years I wasted. I should have come back. I should never have left at all. When I think—”

 

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