Wild Conquest. Hannah Howell

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      Left alone in her small dark cell, Pleasance sank into a black depression. It was many long hours before she began to pull free of it. She thought of all that had happened to her but could make no sense of it. The sound of someone approaching pulled her further out of her gloom. She realized it was time to eat, but doubted she would be able to take a single bite of food. When she saw that Corbin Matthias himself had brought her meal, surprise and curiosity made her rise to her feet. Silently she watched as he entered the cell, set the tray down upon the battered small table at which she sat, and took a seat on the three-legged stool opposite her.

      “Eat, Mistress Dunstan,” Corbin politely ordered. “You will need a full stomach to fight the chill and damp. I have tried to rid the place of it but without success.”

      “All cellars suffer from it, sir. For what it is, this place is most comfortable.” She forced herself to eat the rich venison stew and wondered why he stayed.

      “I am sorry for all of this—the trial, the sentencing, and the humiliation you must feel.”

      “You did only as the law required of you.” She found that she honestly felt no anger toward him.

      “Well, I believe you shall be my last case. I but wish it could have been a more pleasant one.”

      “You have found a better position?”

      “Nay, but I shall leave this one.”

      “Why? ’Tis a good one.”

      “Aye, but there blows an ill wind over this land. Many set themselves against the king and his laws. The trouble began with the Stamp Act of ’65. It was further aggravated by the Townshend Acts of ’67. Lord help us, the king’s agents even halt and inspect chickens being ferried over a river by a farmer. Tempers in the Colonies are high. There is rebellion in the air.”

      “I have heard the murmurs. Well, some murmur rather loudly.”

      He smiled briefly and shook his head. “I am torn. Each side sounds right. I do not wish to be in the position to have to pass judgment, a judgment of traitor and treason no less, upon friends and neighbors. Today showed me most clearly that even when I act rightly I can be wrong—very, very wrong.”

      His serious hazel gaze fixed upon her made Pleasance nervous. He was a clever man. Although she did not know him well, she was sure of it. He also knew a great deal about everyone in town. She felt certain he had, more or less, guessed the truth. While it was comforting to know that someone did not believe her accusers, at least not wholly, she could not tell him the truth. She was not sure it would do her any good anyway.

      “You were there when I was caught. You saw me strike Master O’Duine. How could you think yourself in error?”

      “I have no doubt that you hit the man. Howbeit, I am certain you did not give that tankard to Tearlach.”

      Of course, she thought, and inwardly sighed. If Tearlach had showed him the tankard, then he undoubtedly had also told him where it came from. “You doubt the tale John Martin and the others told in court?”

      “I doubt it indeed. I heard naught but lies, those spoken and those bred of silence. You said nothing in your own defense. Tearlach said nothing. Yet I know that each of you could have proven it all lies.”

      Although she would not agree to his surprisingly accurate assessment, neither could she bring herself to deny it. She had decided not to defend herself, but she could not speak lies to condemn herself. Corbin might simply be curious; then again, he might feel honorbound to correct the miscarriage of justice. She had decided to remain silent, to evade any further scandal for the sake of her already questionable future and to protect her brother Nathan. Despite the hurt and bitterness that was a hard knot inside of her, she would hold fast to that decision. Her family might have sacrificed her to protect themselves, but she would not add to that crime by returning that slap in kind.

      “And mark my entire family as liars, perjurers? Ones who would cast their own flesh and blood to the wolves? If I did as you are suggesting, I would reveal that the oaths my parents, Letitia, and Lawrence spoke upon the Bible itself were just empty things. I could never do such a thing to my own kin.”

      “You do by them far more honorably than they did by you.”

      She said nothing, then, “Master O’Duine had no such reason to remain silent.” Petty revenge tied his tongue, she thought sourly, then fought to convince herself that his lack of defense had been for the best.

      “He never expected his accusations to result in a trial.”

      “Is that so? Once I was arrested where else was it to go, may I ask?”

      “Your family could have extricated you. O’Duine only intended to frighten you, perhaps sting your pride.” He shook his head. “When your family did absolutely nothing, we were all stuck firm in a trap of our own making. There was no turning back.”

      It sounded reasonable, yet she was reluctant to believe it If Tearlach O’Duine had not intended her to be tried and sentenced, then he should not have had her arrested, especially so publicly. It had been an unnecessarily cruel game to play. The revenge had far outweighed the crime even at the beginning. There was also the fact that he now demanded a full year of servitude from her. If he had intended little more than a slap on the wrist, he would have paid the fine and released her. The law did not say he had to make her work off the fine, only that he had the right to do so.