Chapter Fifteen

Nancy had never been in a courtroom before. It was cold enough to see her own breath at first, but the sheer number of people in the room soon changed that. The place was austere, with whitewashed walls, hard benches and a dark wooden balustrade separating the general populace from the justices on their raised platform and their clerks and the attorneys ranged below. Soon enough, the court was called to order, and a clerk read the charges. Dick's face was immobile. She flexed her fingers, and for a moment, was tempted to reach for Mr. Tucker's hand beside her. Only for a moment. Instead, she let her eyes drop from Dick's profile to her lap. A snag of skin curled by her left thumbnail. She stroked it with her right index finger then pinched it with her nails and pulled. The sting made her eyes water. As the tiny wound throbbed, she looked again at Dick. This time, she caught his eye. He looked away.

"You are Richard Randolph? Owner and resident at Bizarre, a sizable property within Cumberland County?" The sheriff's face was unreadable, his voice toneless, as if he were reading lines from an unfamiliar book.

"I am."

"As such you submit to the jurisdiction of this court and these sixteen Gentlemen Justices?"

"I do."

"We are gathered today to examine the evidence against you, Richard Randolph. You are charged thusly: that you feloniously murdered a child said to be born of Ann Cary Randolph, known as Nancy. What say you?"

"I am not guilty."

The sheriff turned to the Gentlemen Justices. "Mr. Richard Randolph pleads not guilty to the charges. You will therefore examine witnesses and hear from Mr. Randolph's lawyers. Mr. Joseph Carrington will speak for the justices, Mr. Henry for the defendant." He nodded to the clerk. "Call the first witness."

"The court calls Mr. Randolph Harrison."

Nancy watched Randy rise and walk to the hinged gate in the wooden barrier that separated the court from the spectators. Time slowed. Nothing felt real. She forced herself to listen to Randy's account of their visit to Glentivar.

"They arrived on Monday, October first."

"At what hour?" The lead justice, Joseph Carrington, was a thin man with a surprisingly loud, piercing voice.

"Before dinner."

"Describe the scene."

"My wife, Mrs. Randolph Harrison, watched for their arrival. She and Mrs. Randolph are close friends. The coach appeared, and we greeted them as the horses pulled them to our door. Their visit was much anticipated. I handed the ladies from the carriage."

"Name them."

"Well, there was Mrs. Judith Randolph and her younger sister, Nancy. And a negro. Their maid. I don't know her name."

Carrington had his elbows on the table in front of him and his hands clasped. He leaned forward. "Describe Miss Nancy Randolph's appearance."

"She looked much as she always does," said Randy. He groped for words. "She wore a greatcoat, buttoned to the neck. I remember thinking she must have felt cold on the drive."

Nancy thought of the coat — dark red, warm. Rough wool. It had been their mother's.

"Could she have been pregnant? Did you notice her shape?"

Randy hesitated, and several people shifted on their benches. From outside came some muffled laughter as the question was relayed to the crowd in the street. "I neither remarked on her shape nor observed any change in her that made me suspect she was with child." Nancy felt her tension release, but Randy wasn't finished. "Although in that great coat, it would be impossible for me to be certain." He threw an apologetic glance over at Dick, who sat gazing at the table before him. "And she soon complained of being unwell."

"When was this?"

"Not long after they arrived. We were showing them some alterations we had made. My wife led the party upstairs. We showed them the outer room at the top of the stairs. It had no door at that point and was open from the staircase. Judy — Mrs. Randolph — said she and Dick would sleep there. There was an inner room on the other side of the staircase. Mrs. Randolph said that Nancy and their younger sister, Jenny — she had been staying with us already, and collecting her was part of the reason for the visit — could share the bed in there. Miss Nancy stayed upstairs for a time. She said she needed to lie down."

"And where were you to sleep? And the others in the party? Mr. Jack Randolph? And Mr. Archibald Randolph?"

"We had agreed that I, my wife and our son, would sleep downstairs in the sitting room during the visit," Randy replied. "And the two younger men put up at The White Hart Tavern. It's an easy ride between there and Glentivar."

"When did you next see Miss Nancy?"

"At dinner."

"And her demeanor?"

"She was quiet and soon retired back upstairs. I know my wife was concerned. She and Mrs. Randolph took her a drink. Essence of peppermint, for colic, you know." Randy ran a finger between his collar and his neck.

Justice Carrington leaned forward in his seat. "And what occurred overnight?"

"We were awakened by screams."

Nancy's cheeks grew hot. She heard the response of everyone watching. There was a rustle of skirts, the scrape of shoes, the creak of wood as if Randy's words were a sudden gust of air sending ripples across a still pond. She stared at the floor, forcing herself to remain still even though she longed to cover her ears, block it all out. Again, from outside, there were loud guffaws, the word "screams" being repeated. She leaned into Mr. Tucker.

"Please continue, Mr. Harrison."

"I thought it was Mrs. Randolph, but when I called up from the bottom of the stairs, Dick said Nancy was unwell. There was more crying from above. The noise woke our son, but after she settled him, my wife went up to Nancy. Mary fetched some laudanum. We were concerned a guest in our house had fallen ill. I dressed, thinking if a doctor were needed, I would go for him myself. But a little while later . . ."

"How long?"

"Less than an hour. I can't say for certain."

Carrington waved a hand. "Continue."

"A little while later, Mrs. Harrison returned and told me Miss Nancy was much better. The laudanum had settled her. We lay down once again and did not leave the room until morning."

"Did you hear anything further?"

Had they, Nancy wondered? She had spent the last six months blotting out every memory of those terrible days. And now this.

Randy's face twisted a little, and he threw another brief glance at his wife across the courtroom. "I was dozing. It's hard to be exact. Several times we heard movement on the stairs, perhaps someone coming down and returning up a little later." He looked at the justice. "I can't say for how long or who. At the time — at one point — the steps sounded heavier. We both thought it was Dick — Mr. Randolph — coming to request a doctor."

"But no request was made?"

"No."

"And in the morning? What happened then?"

"Miss Nancy kept to her bed. Mrs. Randolph explained her sister had ‘a hysterical fit'."

"What did you understand that to mean?"

Color rose up Randy's neck. "I — I'm not sure." He shot a helpless glance at his wife. "Perhaps women's troubles. Or a night terror, such as children have."

Judy bent her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. What a question to ask of a man like Randy. As if he could ever understand or imagine. Different emotions spiked and receded. Anger with Dick for taking this public stance. A wild urge to laugh at Randy's discomfort. A desire to take her sister by the shoulders and shake her for her behavior at Glentivar. If only Nancy had stayed home at Bizarre. But Judy had not let her, and now, they were here, to their eternal shame and misery. To her eternal shame and misery. She felt it in every muscle. Her blood was thick with it.

"When did you next see Miss Nancy Randolph?" Randy was asked.

"She kept to her bed all the next day, but I did go with Dick to see if she wanted a fire laid."

"And what did you observe?"

"Nancy was pale but composed."

"And the room?"

"All in order. There was no sign anything was amiss. Perhaps an unpleasant odor." Judy saw this catch the attention of several justices who straightened up and leaned forward. "But nothing that suggested childbirth. An illness. Sickness. That sort of thing."

"And did Miss Nancy recover fully during the course of the week?"

"On Wednesday, she kept to her room but was said to be recovering. Mr. and Mrs. Randolph rode out with my wife, to a local store I believe, but I remained at work at home. There was nothing else unusual about the visit, and they left us on the Saturday morning."

"You are familiar with the matter before us, are you not?"

"I am."

"When did you first hear it suggested that Miss Nancy had, in fact, given birth in your home?"

"Some time later. I don't know the exact date."

"Please describe what you were told and by whom."

"One of my negroes, a woman, she told me. She said Miss Nancy had suffered a miscarriage."

"Did she offer any evidence?"

"None."

A note was pushed along the table to Carrington. "None, you say. What of this talk of a pile of shingles? A body? Of bloodstains?"

"That was later."

"Please explain."

"There was much talk amongst the negroes. There always is. None told the same story. I didn't take it seriously. I thought it preposterous then, and I do so now."

"Did you examine the site?"

"I did. And there was nothing to see."

"Nothing at all?"

"A stain. Could have been anything. It proved nothing."

"And when did you undertake this examination? How long after October first?"

"I'm not sure. Some weeks."

Carrington sat back in his chair. "I find myself wondering why it took you so long."

"Because there was nothing to it! Slave chatter. Idle gossip and speculation, blown up out of an illness and stained sheets. If I were to run down every tall tale these people bring to me, my house would never have been built and my fields would yield no crops."

"So, you give no credence to any of this? This story of a birth? The rumors about the relationship between Richard and Nancy Randolph?"

"None at all."

Randy's firmness settled between Judy's shoulder blades. His calm voice strengthened her.

But Carrington wasn't finished. "You have been often in company with them both, yes? With Richard Randolph and Miss Nancy Randolph."

"Yes."

"Have you ever witnessed any impropriety between this man and his wife's sister?"

"No."

"You don't sound sure."

Randy's hand went to his necktie. "They were familiar. As families are."

"All families are different. Some affectionate, others less so. How would you characterize the household at Bizarre? Is Richard Randolph a demonstrative man? As a friend, as a husband, as a brother?"

"Yes, yes, but as you say, only as one would expect in a friend or brother. Nothing suspicious or untoward." Color crept up Randy's neck. "Dick and Nancy are close, it is true. Affectionate, certainly. But let me be clear, I've the highest opinion of them both."

Next to Judy, Mr. Tucker let out a sigh. Randy was excused.

Mary followed her husband into the witness box. For Judy, this was even worse: seeing her friend and confidante put in this position was painful. She felt another stab of anger at Dick, at Mr. Tucker, for putting them all through this. Thinking of her father, sitting only a few feet away, was like touching a hot stove, but she forced herself to breathe out and remain calm. She even looked at Mary and smiled. One day, she thought, we will sit with our babies in the sunshine. We will sit on your porch at Glentivar, or mine at Bizarre, and it will be as if this never happened to us. To me. One day.

Mary's evidence fell in line with Randy's until it came to the matter of the drink Nancy had taken when she retired upstairs after supper on the night of their arrival.

Carrington rifled through the papers before him. "You and Mrs. Randolph attended Miss Nancy, I believe."

"We did. Nancy complained of stomach pains. She is prone to such maladies."

"And your husband told us that you took her a peppermint drink. Is that correct?"

Mary glanced over at Randy and looked sheepish. "Yes. Although it was more than simply peppermint. Judy — Mrs. Randolph — asked me to prepare some tea so they could add a dose of gum guaiacum powder. They had a supply with them."

"Gum guaiacum? For colic."

"Indeed." A pink rash crept up Mary's neck. Her words were relayed to the crowd outside, and this news drew a few whistles and much murmuring. Judy pressed her nails into the back of her hands and stared at the lines they left behind. Even the most innocent actions sounded different in a courtroom. A sweat broke out on her forehead. She wished she had not come.

"And this seemed to help?"

"I can't really say. I returned downstairs and settled my boy. Hours later, as Mr. Harrison explained, we were woken by screams from upstairs. I found Judy sitting up in bed. I asked her what could be amiss, and she said that her sister was in hysterics. I heard another screech and tried the door. It was locked."

"Locked?"

"Bolted. But the door could be held shut in no other way. The spring-latch needed attention. Randy — Mr. Harrison — had not gotten around to fixing it. Anyway, Mr. Randolph opened the door as soon as I knocked."

"And what did you see inside the room?"

"Very little, to be honest. Mr. Randolph begged me to leave my candle in the outer room. He was afraid the light would set off her shrieking and said she was in great pain in her stomach. He feared the light might hurt her eyes. Nancy was lying in the bed, weeping. Her sister, Jenny, was there and refused to leave, although I tried to coax her out. Nancy's negro, a girl of about fifteen, had a bowl of water and a cloth. She was dabbing at Nancy's tears. I went for some laudanum, and that gave her some relief."

"And where was Mr. Richard Randolph?"

"In the doorway, I think. He may have left the room and then returned. I sat with Nancy and asked her about the pains. I offered to send Mr. Harrison for a doctor, but she begged me not to. She said she was embarrassed to have caused so much disruption already. After a time, I left her. I had my child to tend to. Nancy didn't wish to keep me from my own family."

"And you heard no more screaming?"

"None."

"But you did hear further movement? Heavy footfall up and down the staircase?"

"Yes. Exactly as Mr. Harrison described."

"And what about the following days? You are a meticulous housekeeper, I imagine."

"I should hope so."

Judy watched her friend's face closely. Mary's countenance was always open. Dick had been known to remark on it, not always kindly, laughing at her wide eyes and the way her jaw would fall slightly and her lower lip inch forward when she lost the thread of a conversation — which happened often, at least when Dick was about. Now, she had that same look.

"The sheets, madam. The bedclothes." Carrington's fingers drummed the table.

Mary's mouth formed a small "o". "There was some staining. On the pillows. Also on the stairs. I saw nothing amiss with her sheets and quilts while our visitors were with us, but after they departed, I had to have my women take the feathers from the bed and clean it properly. There were bloodstains. We thought a poor attempt had been made at a clean-up. That explained the mess on the staircase. But, if I may say, it is a hazard of womanhood, sirs. I saw nothing to give me any concern — not in the sheets, nor in the behavior of my friends. Miss Nancy was unwell, as women sometimes are. Nothing more, I'm certain."

Carrington looked left and right along the ranks of his fellow justices. When no one had further questions, he turned to Dick's lawyers, Henry and Marshall. Henry's chair scraped the wooden floor as he lumbered to his feet.

"Mrs. Harrison, you say you had no concerns about your friends' behavior?"

Mary thrust out her chin. "None. Judith is my closest friend. There is no disharmony between my friend and her husband."

"You observed no uneasiness of mind in Mrs. Randolph during this visit?"

"Nothing more than a natural concern for her younger sister."

"And in subsequent visits with the family. Any rupture between the sisters?"

"None."

"No change in atmosphere? No alteration between husband and wife."

"None."

"And when you first heard of this story of a birth or a miscarriage?"

"One of the slaves at Glentivar came to me with the tale. I dismissed it then, as I dismiss it now."

"Thank you, Mrs. Harrison. I believe you may return to your seat."

Mary didn't wait to be asked twice.