Chapter Sixteen

Judy tried to put herself in the justices' position. What did they think of all this? Of Dick? They gave nothing away. After Randy and Mary, the court moved through their witness list at a faster pace. Mary's housekeeper, Mrs. Wood, confirmed her mistress's assessment that the appearance of Nancy's bed, while not ruling out the possibility of a birth or miscarriage, was not beyond the ordinary.

Randy's mother was called. She described her visit to Glentivar on Tuesday, October second when she had not seen Miss Randolph, although she was told the young girl had been ill and required laudanum. She returned on the Friday and passed a couple of hours with her in her bedchamber. She observed no sign that Nancy had recently given birth.

"Women," she declared, "know these things." Randy's mother wore the air of a woman who had tolerated much from the menfolk in her life. She turned her eye on Justice Carrington as if daring him to ask her more, and he visibly quailed. Not so Patrick Henry. Again, his chair scraped the floor.

"You say you observed no sign that Miss Nancy had given birth, is that correct?"

"It is."

"And that a woman would know?"

"Certainly."

"But if you look before you, madam, you will note that our esteemed justices are all gentlemen."

"They are."

"And so, perhaps, you might be more explicit."

At the back of the room, someone laughed. Old Mrs. Harrison pursed her lips. Echoes of laughter filtered in from outside.

"No fever, no discomfort and no milk." She glared at him, and for a moment, Judy feared he would go further, but Henry merely nodded and returned to his chair by John Marshall. Mrs. Harrison was dispatched and replaced by Archie.

He looked ridiculous. Their cousin was overdressed in a coat that strained at the shoulders and had no hope of being fastened. His neckerchief was a comedy in itself, tied so high that Archie's head swiveled like a turkey at every turn. He radiated excitement but spoke in a solemn tone so different from his normal, casual way, she was certain he'd rehearsed every word over and over before his looking glass.

Yes, he confirmed, he'd had suspicions about Dick and Nancy's closeness. They were fond of each other, quite possibly too fond.

Judy bit down on the inside of her cheek and looked straight ahead. Damn Archie Randolph. How dare he?

But no, he had observed no sign that Miss Randolph was in an interesting condition. He wasn't present overnight during their visit to Glentivar but knew that Miss Randolph had been unwell. On the third day of the visit, he'd assisted Miss Randolph on the stairs. She'd been weak and in need of his support. There had been an unpleasant odor. He could not describe it, but it caused him no misgivings at the time. He had no concerns — it was not until some weeks later that he heard it said that Miss Nancy Randolph had either had a child or miscarried. He hadn't noticed anything amiss in the Bizarre household either before or since October last. Except that there had been some breach with the wider family. No one from Bizarre had attended William and Lucy Randolph's recent wedding. He'd remarked upon it but was given no explanation for the absence.

Judy couldn't help herself. She leaned forward and looked across the benches to where William and Lucy sat with her father. All three faced forward, their expressions fixed and unmoving.

* * *

Nancy saw the wisdom of Mr. Tucker's planning when Jack was the next of those present at Glentivar to give testimony. No one who had been in those two rooms at the Harrisons' home had so far been asked a single question. Jenny was too young, and the rest of them — Judy, Nancy herself and most especially, Phebe — were allowed to remain silent. Nancy thought of Phebe's wide eyes gleaming in her dark, quiet face. As for Dick? If there was one person whose evidence she did not fear, it was his.

Jack proved reliable. He was deathly pale, and his high voice caught the interest of the crowd outside, but he lifted his chin, nodded at his brother and voiced his support.

"Miss Nancy Randolph was close with my brother, yes, but not Mr. Richard Randolph. She was engaged to my other brother, Theo. She was devastated by his passing, as we all were. There was nothing improper between my older brother and Miss Randolph. Miss Nancy and her sister are as close as sisters can be. There is a fondness between them far greater than I have ever witnessed in the rest of the Tuckahoe Randolphs." He turned an icy and deliberate gaze on her relatives, and Nancy longed to stand up and cheer. "The family at Bizarre was in perfect harmony. I challenge anyone to say otherwise."

Justice Carrington appeared unmoved by Jack's vehemence. "Did you observe any signs of pregnancy in Miss Nancy Randolph? Prior to your visit to Glentivar?"

"Absolutely not." There was a brief silence as Carrington read a note passed along by one of his fellow justices. It unsettled Jack. He frowned. "I mean to say that I am quite certain on the point. If she were expecting a baby, we must have all known of it. Yes, she wore dresses loosely. Nancy never wears stays—"

Across from him, Dick closed his eyes. She knew what he was thinking. Jack never knew when to stop speaking.

"We're an informal family at Bizarre," he continued. "Nancy is always busy, particularly in the garden. I have frequently sat closely with her; we have lain together reading . . . I saw no change in dress or size. Nothing to make me suspect she could be pregnant. At Glentivar, she was plainly simply unwell. She was pale. I remember shadows under her eyes. That greenish-blue hue that indicates infection or obstruction. It was a digestive issue. Nothing extraordinary. I visited her in her room in Glentivar. Rode in the carriage with her for part of our return to Bizarre. The accusations made against my family are dishonorable slanders, invented by mischievous negroes and circulated by jealous gossips." He had worked himself up, his own words and rhetoric producing beads of spit on his lower lip. Such a strange creature, Jack, but he had done his part. If only the same could be said for those who spoke next.

* * *

After Jack Randolph, Aunt Page was called to testify.

Judy noted that she was dressed in dark green silk and wore a new bonnet, no doubt purchased for this unusual occasion. Like Archie, her aunt's excitement was palpable, her lips pursed, presumably to create an impression of seriousness, but she might equally have been struggling to suppress a smile. Judy thought of all her visits to Bizarre in the last year and their comfortable closeness. As much as she had shared her concerns about her son with anyone, she had shared them with Aunt Page. She ought to be able to rely on her aunt with as much confidence as she had Mary Harrison. But where her friend had met her eye as she took her place before the justices, Aunt Page's gaze and nods were all for the Tuckahoe family. Judy's mouth went dry.

Justice Carrington referred to a sheaf of notes before he began. "Mrs. Page. For the benefit of the court, can you please outline your connection to the defendant and your involvement with his family?"

"I am aunt to Mr. Randolph's wife, Judith, and her sister, Ann Cary Randolph, known as Nancy. Their mother — bless her memory — was my oldest sister. My nieces and I are close in age. I had come to look on Judith as a sister."

Hadcome? Judy glanced at Tucker. His expression was grim.

"And you have been a frequent visitor to Bizarre?"

"Most frequent. We were there these last two Christmases and have stayed with them on several occasions since then."

"On any of these visits, Mrs. Page, did you observe anything untoward in the relationship between Mr. Richard Randolph and his wife's sister?"

Aunt Page nodded. "I am sorry to say that I did. Not at first. At first, Nancy was happy to be there, and everything seemed proper. Nancy was helpful. I believe she was sweet on Mr. Randolph's brother, Theodore, although he was unwell and traveled to Bermuda to convalesce—"

"If you could return to the question?" Justice Carrington's fingers drummed the desk. Judy noticed Patrick Henry had leaned back in his chair with his arms folded over his ample girth.

"I think it was one Christmas that I first remarked upon it."

"In 'ninety-one? A year and a half ago?" the justice asked.

"Yes. You have it right. It was then that I noted it. ‘It is almost as if Nancy is the mistress,' I said to my husband, Carter. Those were my exact words. I saw a boldness about her. Mrs. Randolph was expecting and quite pulled about. She spent many hours upstairs resting. Nancy relished the opportunity to play plantation mistress. I remember a specific incident at Christmas when Mr. Randolph and Miss Nancy lit the bayberry candles."

Judy tried to recall it. She had noticed nothing.

"I mentioned it to Mr. Page," Aunt Page continued. "They lit the candles together. Hand in hand. His other hand on her back. Low on her back. It took little imagination." She paused, her eyes sliding to the courtroom door. Cracks of laughter were heard again from outside as word of her testimony rippled through the crowd. She dabbed her neck with the handkerchief. "My dear, poor Judy even said to me one day how glad she was that her husband had her sister for company as she was brought so low by the pregnancy and feared she'd miscarry. She said her sister was a companion for Mr. Randolph, who was always the more sociable one in the marriage.

"But my concern deepened in March. Mr. Randolph's younger brother, Theo had recently died. Mr. Page and I visited toward the end of the month. I frequently saw Mr. Randolph and Miss Nancy in close discussion. Very close discussion."

Next to Judy, Mr. Tucker uncrossed his legs and gripped his knees.

"Did you have any suspicion that Miss Nancy Randolph might be with child?" asked Carrington.

"It gives me no pleasure to say so—" A loud snort from Patrick Henry gave her only the smallest pause. "But my answer must be yes."

Judy stifled a gasp. She heard the rest of her aunt's testimony only distantly as if her voice floated through a low-hanging fog.

"On a visit in May last year, I observed an alteration in Miss Nancy's shape."

Noise from beyond the courtroom turned Judy's ears hot. Listeners at the window relayed every word as Aunt Page plunged on.

"Throughout the summer months, I visited on two further occasions. Nancy complained of ill health and was fretful. You could barely hold a civil conversation with her. When I asked her about her future, she snapped at me in the most disrespectful manner. One evening, as I retired, I heard voices in Miss Nancy's room. She was discussing her figure with her maid, asking the girl if she thought she looked smaller, but the maid said no. I caught a glimpse through a crack between door and frame. Again, I am sorry to say it, but I saw Miss Nancy in a state of undress and, yes, visibly pregnant."

Judy closed her eyes. It was impossible. Impossible. But still, her aunt was not finished.

"After the stories about my niece began to circulate, I was naturally alarmed. What kind of future might she expect, given her circumstance? I hoped I had been wrong. That my eyes had deceived me. I shrank from the conclusions my mind reached for when I considered what I had seen in that room and in my observations of my niece and Mr. Randolph.

"I visited Bizarre most recently at Christmas last year. These terrible rumors were swirling. Some in the family were turning away from my dear nieces. I could not be so callous."

Mr. Tucker turned to Judy, eyebrows raised. She had no idea what her aunt might be about to say. As far as she had been aware, the visit was uneventful.

"I talked candidly with Miss Nancy Randolph," Aunt Page declared. "I didn't shrink from telling her what was being said and how it harmed her. I offered to examine her. If she was innocent as she claimed, I'd support her and scotch the gossip at a stroke. She refused."

"She refused you?" asked Carrington.

"She did. She said that her denial was enough, and I ought to need nothing more. She's a haughty and proud creature. I have always said so."

Several of the justices scribbled notes. Others exchanged glances. Around her, Judy heard silk rustle and hot whispers. Dread crept up her spine. How much damage had been done? How much danger was Dick in now? Carrington signaled to Marshall and Henry that they might ask any questions they wished of Mrs. Page. Judy began to pray.

"Mrs. Page," said Patrick Henry, "I must commend you on your industry."

"My industry?"

"Indeed. You have been so busy in the matter of your nieces. A frequent visitor. An advisor. An observer."

"They are motherless girls. Women now, of course, but still young."

"And how would you describe your relationship with them? Maternal? Or more that of sisters?"

Aunt Page frowned, like a woman trying to read without her glasses. "A little of both?"

"Thank you. Very helpful. You see, I ask that for a particular reason. I listened to your testimony with great interest and was much struck by your telling us that you observed Miss Nancy Randolph and her maid through a crack in the doorway."

"I did." Aunt Page colored but held his gaze.

"Because I wondered as you said it, if you did so as a sister or as a mother to the young lady?"

"I—"

Patrick waved her into silence and turned to the crowd on the benches with his eyebrows raised, his lips quivering on the brink of either laughter or a sneer.

"I'm an old man, I know," he said, "but I cannot think of a single occasion where I discovered my mother or my sisters or my wife, for that matter, loitering in hallways and peeping through cracks. I'm having trouble picturing it, truth be told. I wonder, Mrs. Page, if you might demonstrate?" He leaned forward and raised first his right hand to cover his right eye and then his left, shaking his great head in between. "I'm wondering . . . which eye might you have peeped through? The left? Or the right?" Laughter broke out across the room and Aunt Page's face turned purple. She folded her arms and turned to Carrington for help, but the justices were struggling to keep their countenances, and Henry had the floor.

"Can't remember? No? A pity. But I do thank you for your time here, Mrs. Page. You have been so illuminating."

With a final roll of his eyes, Henry returned to his seat and in an audible whisper, declared to John Marshall, "Great God, deliver us from eavesdroppers."

As Aunt Page huffed her way back to her husband, Justice Carrington called for a break in proceedings.