Molly leaned forward. “I don’t know what to do, Nick. I wish I could flag down every buggy on the square, go door to door and clear my name, but I have to keep moving forward. My future employment is uncertain. I don’t think Judge Rice will allow an adulteress to work in the courtroom, and somehow that’s a bigger shock than Edward’s lies. I’ve already accepted that he’ll never return. I’ve given up on a husband and family and plan to pursue a career. I could end up without either.”
“Rubbish. Judge Rice knows you were lied to. Edward Pierrepont will be found guilty and you’ll be cleared.”
“I pray it’s so. This court case could salvage my reputation. Someone is guilty here. If Edward isn’t, then what will people say?”
“What if Edward comes back and you learn that your marriage is legal? Could you be happy?”
Molly plucked at her sleeve. Happiest would be Edward Pierrepont never having laid a well-shod foot on Texas soil. But nothing could alter the past. Beyond that she wasn’t sure which would be worse: always carrying the stain of adultery or being at the mercy of an unscrupulous man. Given time, would Edward humiliate her again?
“If he returned, I’d try to be content with the situation for Father and Mother’s sake. They’d keep their rich son-in-law to help with the business, and I’d have met all of Father’s expectations.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t break down here in the courthouse, not on a workday. The next session could start at any time, and Judge Rice needed her there transcribing the case. “Enough about that. Tell me all the Prairie Lea gossip, the little that doesn’t involve me, that is.”
The side of Nicholas’s mouth rose, but he didn’t deny her assumption. “For starters, there’s Michael James. It’s whispered that he’s lurking about, but the law hasn’t been able to catch him—and they’re trying. Knowing that he’s been rustling cattle makes you wonder if he didn’t kill the man by the creek.”
“That’d be good news for Anne, but not for his father. I hope people show Russell some compassion.”
“I saw Russell yesterday, and I hate to say it, but he looks like he’s aged a decade. And the way he slinks about—it’s as if he’s the criminal. It’s a pity, but at least Anne Tillerton has been released, but I suppose you knew that. She’s an odd bird, that one.”
“Anne’s not as brusque as she wants people to believe. Maybe if I’d start wearing buckskin trousers, people would stop pestering me, too.”
Her brother studied her. “Mol, why don’t you come home, even if it’s for a few days? I’m sure Mother and Father want to see that you’re all right.”
“But they didn’t say that, did they?”
Nicholas suddenly spotted a place on his cuff link that needed polishing. “If it makes you feel any better, the mill seems to be doing well. As much business as Bailey’s bringing in, he’ll have it turned around soon. And with his ferrying messages and paper work, Father’s content. He’s even made it out to Bradford’s Mercantile a few times for checkers and coffee. I’ll tell you what, that Bailey has been a godsend. If only . . .”
Molly rose and walked to the window at the end of the corridor.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s awfully poor taste, but I can’t help thinking that you and Bailey might get your chance after all. Don’t forget, he asked Father for your hand the day you left with Edward. Surely he’ll renew his suit once Pierrepont is behind bars.”
She could still hear Bailey’s words from two days ago. He couldn’t bear to be in her company. If he was kind, if he was helpful, it was only out of charity. Having Pierrepont accept responsibility for his actions would go far toward redeeming her reputation, but if she was going to have a future, it’d be one she chiseled out herself.
Not a week had passed since Nick’s visit, and the trial was at hand. From the courthouse antechamber, Molly could hear muffled voices in the courtroom. Drowsy, conversational, nothing concerning her yet. She flopped into the leather chair and took as deep of a breath as her stays would allow. Her fingers were cold, and dampness crept through her bodice under her arms as she waited for the trial to start.
She jumped when the door opened and Sheriff Colton entered.
“I’m surprised to see your father here,” he said.
“Mother couldn’t keep him away.” She hoped they’d made the right decision. Physically restraining him seemed more harmful than letting him sit through the deposition. “Is Edward here, too?”
The sheriff polished his badge with his thumb. “Yes, ma’am. Already been ushered into the courtroom. Bailiff will be calling you directly.”
Molly folded her hands primly in her lap and tried to unknot the dread growing in her stomach. She would see him today, see the man who’d promised her the world and left her with nothing. But worse than facing him was facing her own folly. She could’ve chosen differently. She could’ve bucked against her parents’ expectations and found other means to help them. But she’d given in.
The bailiff opened the door and motioned for her to follow. Usually the plaintiff was seated before the defendant, but nothing about this hearing was typical. There’d be no stenographer, since Prue was on her honeymoon and Molly would be seated at the plaintiff’s table by Mr. Collins, the district attorney.
The massive judge’s bench in the center of the courtroom had never looked so intimidating. This was the first time Molly had ever walked before it as a party to an action. Thankfully, this hearing was private. No indolent onlookers were allowed inside.
She recognized Edward’s back, although he was wearing a suit she’d never seen before. Evidently his finances were still liquid. She faltered at the wooden gate leading from the galley when a rustling at her side caught her attention. There her parents sat, her mother straight-backed, her father squirming and seething. Finally they’d found someone who had earned more of their disapproval than she had.
Judge Rice acknowledged her with a dip of his head, and she went to sit on the right and faced straight forward.
“Your Honor,” the stranger at Edward’s table said, “Mr. Pierrepont would like to have a private word with Miss Lovelace before the proceedings.”
The judge’s blue eyes turned cold. “I think that time has passed. I would advise Mrs. Pierrepont against such action. Mrs. Pierrepont, are you content to begin?”
What could he have to say to her? If he was whisked to jail after the proceedings, she might never know.
“He may speak, but not in private. Let him have his say here,” she said.
The judge nodded and the small gathering quieted as Edward stood. Molly studied his empty chair, being the closest to his person she would allow her eyes to wander.
“First off, let me remind you that these are words I’d rather share in private, but since that avenue is closed to me, I want to assure Miss Lovelace that, although not responsible for her situation, I am deeply sympathetic and would alleviate her suffering as much as possible.”
She recognized her father’s snort from the galley, but Edward continued.
“I think it would be in her best interest to curtail these proceedings and reach a more profitable arrangement. I’m prepared to settle a generous sum on Miss Lovelace for any inconvenience our relationship has caused.”
The room was so still Molly could hear a horse whinnying on the square.
“Molly?”
Without intending to, she met his eyes and saw the man on whom she’d pinned her hopes. He was supposed to have been her savior, not her destroyer. But he didn’t look sorry. He looked as he always did—as if he admired and appreciated her, as if he couldn’t be dirtied by the squalid mores of the bourgeoisie.
“Molly, please spare yourself. This won’t be pleasant. The lawyer’s arguments are out of my control. I care for you, and I don’t want—”
“That’s enough,” Judge Rice interrupted. “Anything you have to say should be said under oath. Unless Mrs. Pierrepont has an objection, we’ll proceed.”
“D
id Mr. Pierrepont propose matrimony to you?”
Molly hadn’t fitted her skirts into the witness chair before the question was asked. The bailiff was still removing the Bible she’d sworn on.
“What kind of question is that? I wouldn’t have gone with him if we weren’t getting married.”
“What were his exact words?” said the man with the spectacles and vulpine whiskers. “Did he promise you a ring? Did you speak to a parson? Were any arrangements made for a wedding?”
Her flesh crawled as she tried to remember. “He talked about spending our lives together. He said he wanted me to travel with him, be his companion.”
“But he never suggested that he was free to marry.”
“Free to marry?” With a roar her father leapt to his feet. “He wouldn’t dare invite my daughter to accompany him otherwise.”
Judge Rice banged his gavel on his bench. “Mr. Lovelace, I will not suffer outbursts in my court. Do you understand?”
Molly closed her eyes in silent prayer. Her father must control his temper or his life could be at stake. Why didn’t Judge Rice remove him before he became unmanageable?
Edward’s lawyer addressed her again. “Please answer my question. Did Mr. Pierrepont at any time ask you to marry him?”
“But he did marry me and that’s illegal. If he would’ve explained himself, I would’ve returned home immediately.”
“Miss Lovelace, about the ceremony, if that word can be applied to what happened—you were sick, were you not? Very sick, according to Mr. Pierrepont.”
“Yes, and displeased.”
“I want to remind the court that your memory of the event might be suspect due to the extreme condition of your health at the time, but would you please share what you remember?”
Molly sat up straight and clutched the banister. “I remember quite clearly. I awoke to find that Mr. Pierrepont was in my room while I was in a state of . . . well . . . dishabille.”
“I’ve had enough!” Thomas Lovelace was on his feet again. “That you would submit my daughter to this indignity is unconscionable!”
“Bailiff.” One word from Judge Rice was all it took.
Sheriff Colton and the bailiff each took an arm of Thomas Lovelace and dragged him backward through the double doors, the man yelling protests every step of the way. The doors closed, muffling but not quite drowning out his voice.
“Mrs. Lovelace,” Judge Rice said, “you might want to fetch a doctor to tend your husband as a precautionary measure.”
Her mother sniffed and stalked out. She could pretend to be disappointed, but Molly knew that she’d wanted to distance herself from the proceedings from the beginning.
And now, with her mother gone, she was the only woman in the room. As humiliating as her testimony was, to have to give it in a room full of men made it even more so. And the way they were twisting her words, she’d even begun to doubt herself.
Once Sheriff Colton and the bailiff returned, Judge Rice nodded to her. What she wouldn’t give for a glass of water, but she continued unaided.
“As I was saying, I woke to find Edward in my chamber. This was unacceptable. I insisted that we get married immediately, and he agreed.”
“Under what circumstances, ma’am?” The lawyer’s voice rose. “He agreed to marry you after he was threatened with detainment, right? It was imperative that he get you to a doctor, and the only way for him to help you was to go through a fraudulent ceremony using a false name. He acted to save your life, even though it was against his best interest. Is that not correct?”
The room swam before Molly’s eyes, but Edward didn’t move. There he sat, as kind and accepting as ever. He looked as if he’d welcome her into his arms and call off this evil lawyer if she’d let him. Yes, he surely would. He’d take her on the train, and they’d put Caldwell County far behind them, but without the benefit of holy matrimony. Until his family cut him off again, he’d care for her as a mistress. That was all she’d ever been to him. All she could be.
Molly released the banister and settled her back against her chair. She took a shaky breath and prayed God would give her the courage to speak the absolute truth.
“What you say is true. Perhaps he didn’t intend to marry me when we left. Perhaps he was forced into that situation, but he should have told me once I recovered. He knew he had a wife already.” Her eyes bounced from person to person, finding nowhere safe to land. “But he didn’t tell me. Instead, he lived with me as my husband. I wouldn’t have consented.”
All eyes turned to the bespectacled lawyer.
“That will be all, Miss Lovelace. We’d like to call the next witness, Your Honor.”
Molly gripped the rail tightly to steady her steps out of the box. Edward had tried to warn her, hadn’t he? But what choice did she have? She couldn’t just walk out the door and inform everyone that she was now Miss Lovelace again. Such a proclamation would forever sully her.
“Who is your witness, Counsel?” Judge Rice asked.
She stopped to watch the shifty man, wondering what he hoped to unearth. No one could contradict her account. Not Pastor Snow, not the conductor, not even Freida. No one could challenge her testimony.
“The defense calls Bailey Garner.”
23
The framed copy of the Ten Commandments on the courthouse wall made a fine tally sheet for Bailey as he checked off Pierrepont’s multiple transgressions. The grim diversion was his only protection from Mr. Lovelace’s tirade.
“It’s outrageous that we don’t get our say. We’re her parents! What does that district attorney think he’s doing asking you to testify?”
Hands in his pockets, Bailey kept his eyes on the plaque before him. Although Thomas Lovelace didn’t expect a reply, Bailey wished he had one. Why was he called to testify? After the donkey he’d made of himself, he was surprised that Molly had requested his help. On the other hand, didn’t he deserve a shot at the blackguard? Next to Molly, his future had been the most affected.
“Bailey Garner,” the bailiff called.
Thomas stood as if to charge the courtroom but was intercepted by the bailiff, who held the door open for Bailey.
Bailey straightened his shoulders and prepared for battle, marching at a cadence until he’d turned into the box and had his hand on the Bible.
He was here, in the same room. Bailey’s neck twitched as he looked at the man who’d lain with his girl. Nothing Bailey could do to him would be bad enough. And there was Molly, looking as queasy as the town drunk. How he wished he could convince himself that she’d been kidnapped, abducted. How he wished she hadn’t left him of her own free will.
He stumbled through the oath, not caring if the words were exactly right. He didn’t need some lawman to remind him to tell the truth—not when God was there, waiting to exact vengeance.
Bailey grasped the arms of the wooden chair as he lowered himself into it. Ready for business. He’d been hard on Molly, but it was small potatoes compared to his feelings for the man seated across the room.
“Mr. Garner, would you please describe your relationship with Miss Lovelace.” Pierrepont’s lawyer stepped up to the bar looking like his chest had slid into his belly and got caught in his belt on the way down.
Bailey cleared his throat and tried to speak in the preacher voice he’d been practicing. “I’ve known her my whole life.”
“But wouldn’t you say your relationship has recently been of a more personal nature?”
“Recently? No, I haven’t—”
“In the last year or so?”
Bailey leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs at the ankles. They were jumping right into the meat of his testimony. Didn’t this expensive lawyer with the letters behind his name understand this was exactly what Bailey wanted to say?
“We were courting for over a year.”
“With her parents’ consent?”
Bailey frowned. “They didn’t exactly approve, but there were no hard feelings. I work for them
now.”
“So Miss Lovelace deceived her parents to carry on a relationship without their consent?” Before Bailey could answer, the man fired another round in his direction. “Would you say that Miss Lovelace comported herself as befitting a lady during your relationship?”
“Of course. Mol . . . I mean Mrs. Pierrepont was well brought up.”
“It’s interesting that you’d say so, Mr. Garner, because I’ve discovered testimony that not six months ago you publically denounced her in front of your local congregation. Would you like to share your version of the incident?”
Bailey looked at Molly. Her expression looked a lot like it had that Sunday when he’d stood to unburden his soul. His heart lurched into his throat. “No, that’s not why I’m here. Your man took her under false pretenses.”
“Mr. Garner, you are here to establish her character, or lack thereof. Miss Lovelace has testified that she would not allow a man to trifle with her without the benefit of marriage. That is why your testimony is of particular interest to the defense. That is why we called you.”
“You called me?” Bailey pulled himself forward. “I didn’t come to help you. I came to put him in jail.”
Without blinking, the lawyer turned to Judge Rice. “Your Honor, I’d like to point out that the witness is hostile, but we consider his testimony to be vital to our defense.”
“You may proceed with the questions.” Judge Rice’s eyebrows lowered. “Mr. Garner, I remind you that you’re under oath.”
What could he do? Bailey looked for help, for counsel, but the district attorney was frozen like a scared possum. Molly’s eyes were huge, shining with vulnerability, expecting the worse.
“Let’s return to your proclamation before the church. What exactly were your words?” the lawyer asked.
Bailey scowled. “It wasn’t Molly’s fault. It was mine. I was confessing my own personal failings. Not hers.”
“Did you ever force yourself on Miss Lovelace?”
Regina Jennings Page 20
