Chapter Seventeen

"What a witch your Aunt Page is," muttered Dick as he leaned over the barrier to shake his stepfather's hand. None of her family came near them, Judy noted, but Jack was by their side, and Randy and Mary also. Nancy remained seated, her expression unreadable. Dick only had a moment before Marshall and Henry called him back to his place. Judy looked for signs in their faces — of confidence or dismay — but saw nothing. Then Jack's breath touched her ear.

"I thought that woman was your friend, Judy?" he said, his voice higher even than usual. "As if my brother does not have enough to endure without any more betrayals from your damned family."

Fury filled her throat. Was there no one — no one — who saw what she was going through? That her aunt's words were daggers, that this scandal was strangling her? She clutched at her chest, feeling for the silver cross that hung there. Jack cared only for Dick. Dick cared only for Dick. Mr. Tucker, perhaps, cared for more than just his stepson. He talked of Judy and Nancy as his own family, his own daughters. But her thoughts grew clamorous and loud, beating at her ears, when she came to her sister. Henry made Aunt Page a figure of fun with his eavesdropping pantomime, but he had not addressed her offer to examine Nancy and Nancy's refusal. Judy tried to recall the December visit, but she had shut out so much, her focus on Saint, even as her despair over him grew day by day.

Tucker's hand at her elbow brought Judy back into the room. He guided her back to the bench.

* * *

Nancy wasn't surprised that the final witness called by the justices caused a stir. The daughter of Thomas Jefferson, Washington's Secretary of State and Virginia's favorite statesman? Called to testify in this small rural courthouse? Within the family, Patsy was Patsy, but Nancy saw how the justices straightened their backs as she walked forward, and heard the shouts from outside as people climbed on shoulders trying to catch a glimpse inside.

Justice Carrington came straight to the point. "Is it correct that you were responsible for supplying Miss Nancy Randolph with the resin, gum guaiacum?"

Gum guaiacum. Nancy recalled the flavor. Woody. Dry. It had made her thirsty.

"It is," said Patsy.

"To what purpose?"

"Gum guaiacum is well known in the treatment of colic. Miss Nancy Randolph was suffering particularly keenly with colic when I visited my husband's family at Bizarre in mid-September."

"Are you aware of other uses for this medicine?"

"I am."

"You are aware that it is used to produce an abortion?"

"Yes."

Nancy went cold.

"Did you have any suspicion that Miss Nancy might be pregnant?"

"I did suspect that, yes."

"In September last year? Shortly before the family's visit to Glentivar?"

"Yes but—"

"That is all. Unless Mr. Henry has any questions?"

"I do indeed." Henry got to his feet and threw Patsy a kindly gaze. "You are uncomfortable, Mrs. Randolph, and I believe I see why. Let us probe a little deeper. You were asked to supply gum guaiacum for Miss Nancy, you say? When was this? Mid-September?"

"Yes."

"For the treatment of colic? Not as an abortifacient?"

"Certainly not."

"You discussed the medication with Miss Nancy?"

"With Mrs. Judith Randolph mainly. Although Miss Randolph was present."

Present? Nancy remembered staring out of the window at the rain while Judy and Patsy talked.

"Did you discuss the dangers of the medicine as well as its merits?"

"We did."

She had not been listening. She should have been listening.

"And you supplied it to them then? On that visit?"

"No. A few days later, I received word from Mrs. Page that her niece, Nancy's colic had worsened. She asked if I could supply some of the guaiacum resin to see if it would ease Nancy's discomfort. I sent only a small quantity."

"A small quantity? Enough to produce an abortion?"

Nancy felt a wave of nausea. How much had she taken? How much?

"I don't believe so. I have known of more being given to a pregnant woman with no mischief resulting."

"And you can bear witness that Miss Nancy Randolph had suffered from colic and stomach pains for some years?"

"I can."

"One final thing. Did Miss Nancy appear in September to have a change in shape that suggested advanced pregnancy?"

"Not really. I had a fleeting suspicion, nothing more." Patsy turned her eyes on the justices, her chin held high. "I would never have supplied the resin to a woman ready to be delivered. She needed it to ease her colic. Nothing more."

"Thank you."

* * *

Judy tried to push Aunt Page and Patsy's words from her mind as Marshall and Henry readied their defense. Tucker squeezed her hand as Henry got to his feet, and panic fluttered in her chest at the thought of Dick's stepfather growing anxious. She gazed at the blank faces of the justices. They were well-fed, slightly self-important, but surely, honorable men who should be fair to a man of Dick's family and standing. She had to believe so, although the way her own family had turned their back on them had shaken her faith in her own judgment. At least now, finally, someone would speak up on Dick's behalf. She squeezed Tucker's hand in return and tried to calm herself with her breath.

"Gentlemen of Cumberland County," wheezed Henry. "We all know why we are here. Gossip. Not facts, not evidence. Gossip. A man's future, his happiness, his freedom, his reputation and honor hang in the balance. He is in your hands. Let us hear from him."

She watched her husband walk to the witness stand and swear an oath to be truthful. Careworn as he was, Dick was still proud. He squared his shoulders and met the eyes of the justices seated on his left as their equal. He didn't so much as glance at the familiar faces ranged on the benches around Judy. She tried to remember the last time he'd touched her. She could not.

"Please tell us, Mr. Randolph," said Henry. "What manner of illness did Miss Nancy Randolph experience at Glentivar on October first of last year?"

"A bout of colic. It was extremely painful, causing her to cry out and clutch at her stomach. She has long been troubled by it, although this episode was particularly severe. I wondered if there was perhaps an obstruction of the bowel and offered to fetch a doctor."

"Did Miss Nancy Randolph call you to her room?"

"No. It was her younger sister, Jenny. She's a child. Nancy's maid couldn't calm her. We asked Mrs. Harrison for some laudanum."

His eyes strayed to Judy. Was there reproach in his gaze? She had taken the small quantity of laudanum they had brought from Bizarre. But she had needed it. She had been so tired from caring for Saint. It was hardly her fault that he'd had to call on Mary for more. Judy rubbed her lips on her teeth and wished she could remember the night more clearly.

"I determined that if the laudanum did not settle her pains, I would ride for a doctor. But before long, she was quiet, and a doctor was not required."

"And what can you tell us about the bloodstains on her pillows and mattress?"

"Nothing. I saw nothing. The room was dark. Nancy said the candlelight vexed her, so I sat with her in the dark. Her maid and younger sister were there also. I saw no blood."

"And you cannot account for it."

"Not through anything I observed. When I heard of it, I assumed it was caused by her monthly courses. Or a nosebleed. She has been troubled by those. I couldn't settle for some time after Nancy went to sleep. I heard her girl, Phebe, go up and down the stairs — I presumed for water or perhaps something to settle Jenny. The little girl was distressed to see her sister suffer so. In the morning, Nancy was much improved, although she kept to her room and seemed tired and off-color. I was busy with Mr. Harrison and left my wife and the maid to take care of matters. I think I only entered the room once more during our visit, and that was with Randy, to lay a fire. I was anxious she remain well and not disturb the household for another night. As my wife's sister and a member of my household, I take my responsibilities toward her seriously." He glared at the Tuckahoe family. "Nancy has not always been treated kindly by those whose place it is to do so. Since she came to Bizarre, she has been part of my family and treated as such. These accusations touch my honor." Dick's eyes ran from one end of the row of justices to the other, and Judy sensed his temper was high. "I thank you for the opportunity to end this gossip and calumny here today."

With that, Henry ushered Dick back to his seat and addressed the court.

"Gossip," the large lawyer said again, sticking his thumbs in his waistcoat and rocking ever so slightly back and forth. "Not facts, not evidence. Gossip. An upstanding member of the community, a man of family and breeding, with his reputation, with his honor, on the line. And yet, are there grounds for suspicion? I will be honest. The answer," he paused, looking around the sea of faces, "is yes." Dick pursed his lips and grew even paler. His shoulders slumped, whether in defeat or anticlimax, Judy could not say. He stared off into the distance, and she returned her focus to the lawyer.

"Yes, I say. There are grounds for suspicion about what happened on October first at Glentivar, and you have been presented with a range of circumstances that excite that suspicion. Let us examine these, then, without favor or prejudice. For we are not gossips. This is a place of justice, and we are men of the law. Let us examine each circumstance and apply the weight of reason and common sense for which Virginians are known and renowned in this great new country and beyond.

"First, the apparent fondness between Mr. Richard Randolph and Miss Nancy Randolph. How many of us live, or have lived, in a house with a younger lady in residence, a younger lady who is not our sister or wife? I believe most of us here have done so. We have wide family circles, we're generous hosts, we travel great distances to pass time together. This is Virginia. We are sociable men and women, are we not? Can we not now pay attention to a young lady in our household without falling suspect in the eyes of others? Is not the sister of a wife the very person a good husband should be paying attention to? More so, when the young lady is Miss Nancy Randolph, a person brought up in the lap of ease and indulgence, until suddenly her father's house is no longer home to her. More so, when the young lady has formed a sincere attachment to Mr. Richard Randolph's brother, young Theo, so tragically lost to the family only last year. Would not that serve to bring the husband and sister — the bereaved brother and the dead man's betrothed — even closer? What could be more natural? Consider. Had there been guilt here, would not their affection have been hidden? The public nature of their affection for each other pronounces their innocence. Their openness, in the sight of friends and of Mrs. Randolph herself, speaks volumes in their defense."

Henry turned to Marshall and nodded, before licking his lips and returning to his task.

"While some increase in Miss Nancy's size — small, but observable — cannot be denied, it must be acknowledged that many reasons, other than pregnancy, may account for this alteration. Let us consider the math of the matter. For Miss Nancy to be visibly with child in May, she must by then have been advanced three or four months, for every person knows that there would be no observable sign in a young person before that point. By the first of October then, she must have been at eight or nine months, the size of a woman ready to be delivered. What do our witnesses tell us about her size in September? Mrs. Thomas Mann Randolph Jr. would never have sent gum guaiacum to a woman about to give birth. Mr. Harrison described Miss Nancy wearing a greatcoat: there is nothing suspicious in that. And for every witness who did observe an alteration in the lady's shape, we have another who did not. Mr. Richard Randolph's brother, Jack, for one. Mr. Archibald Randolph said the same. If pregnancy was the cause of the increase in size observed by Mrs. Page in May, some considerable further increase should have been visible by September. I put it to you, sirs, that there is no clear evidence pointing to Miss Nancy Randolph having ever been pregnant at all."

The old man bowed his head as if with the weight of disappointing his audience. This was his strategy, Judy saw, to charm, disarm and to disappoint everyone as politely, and yet as comprehensively, as possible. Hope flared as Henry moved on to the matter of the gum guaiacum.

"But let us imagine for a moment longer that she was, in fact, in the family way, remembering that she would have been in a late stage of pregnancy by September. The time for gum guaiacum had come and gone by then, to be sure. Had it been wanted for an underhand purpose, why acquire it in such an open manner? Mrs. Judith Randolph, Mrs. Thomas Mann Randolph Jr. and Mrs. Page were all party to its procurement. It was wanted only for colic. Surely, surely, if it had in any way been wanted for another reason, she would have taken it at home, and the whole episode concealed, not abroad, in another's home, where discovery would be inevitable.

"And let us not stop there, gentlemen. Follow me to Glentivar, where this supposed nefarious business was undertaken. There was an illness, that is certain. It was not concealed: Miss Nancy's screams are proof of that. Mr. Randolph was in the room at the request of his wife. Candlelight was forbidden — natural where a person is in pain and has taken laudanum. A range of reasons can account for the bloodstains described before the court. No untoward behavior was suspected at the time, none, until slaves whispered that there might have been a miscarriage. The story of the shingles has no weight. Had there been an infant's body found, the household must have been told at once. Such a claim has no merit. This is a fantasy spun from bloodied sheets left outside as the family tried to manage the upset overnight. Nothing more. There was no birth, no child, stillborn or living, nothing left on that pile of shingles but spoiled laundry. To imagine otherwise defies all reason and common sense."

Henry raised his arms and turned full circle, sharing his dismissal with the whole courtroom. A loud clatter broke the spell as the crowd outside reacted, and two men posted at the window slipped out of view for a moment. Henry smiled.

"We have not heard the testimony of Mrs. Judith Randolph," he continued, bowing in her direction. "By law, a wife's evidence cannot be presented. But here she sits. No one has reported seeing her in apprehension or misery. How could she sit there so dignified and calm if there were an iota of truth in this gossip against her husband and sister, her sister, who also sits and listens with Christian patience and humility? If you won't take my word on the matter, gentlemen, I beg you, take Mrs. Harrison's, Mr. Randolph Harrison's mother, who sat with Miss Nancy only days after her illness and saw no mark of delivery on her person. Why? Because no such thing had taken place."

Henry turned again to Marshall, a silent question implied in a slight lift of his eyebrows. Marshall nodded and Henry addressed the justices.

"There is, to my mind, only one minor question as yet unanswered. Mrs. Harrison observed no mark of delivery on Miss Nancy's person. But one other member of the family tells us she offered to make a more thorough examination and was refused. It is unfortunate, even imprudent, for Miss Nancy to have refused. She may well regret this now. But I think we can agree that the most innocent person in the world might have acted in the same manner. A heart, conscious of its own innocence, resents suspicion. Even more so when suspected by one who calls herself a friend."

Henry paused, turned to Aunt Page on the benches and slowly, oh so slowly, he winked. To Judy, it was the least her aunt deserved. Several younger men near the back of the room burst out laughing. Everything about this day was humiliating. Aunt Page deserved to be at least as conscious of that as Judy was.

"Miss Nancy may be deemed prideful in refusing this personal examination," he continued smoothly, "but it cannot make her guilty in the matter before this courtroom." He pulled back his shoulders and stood ramrod straight.

"Every circumstance that has brought Mr. Richard Randolph before you has now been accounted for. There is no evidence here for the court to consider. There is hearsay, there is gossip and there is a degree of suggestive circumstance — as unfortunate as it is unconvincing. I ask the court to find the defendant not guilty as charged."