Never Land the First Fish

Chapter Twenty-Seven, Part 2

The wait seemed interminable. Emily wished they could be out on the street to see the spectacle of the judges' arrival. One of the gentlemen at dinner last night had explained it to her. They would be in open carriages, in full bottom wigs, tights, and buckled shoes. They would be escorted from the Judges Lodgings by the High Sheriff and a troop of javelin men and two trumpeters, who would remain in the court throughout the day to maintain order.

Emily smiled as she remembered the previous evening. The Wellbridges had used a mix of relentless charm and aristocratic arrogance to carry of what could have been an awkward meeting between the Judges of the Western Circuit and two close friends of the accused in the case before them the following morning.

"Your Grace?" The most senior among them had said when Wellbridge invited him to be known to Miss Kilbrierry and Lord Maddox. "Is this appropriate?"

"Maddox asked me the same thing," the duke replied. "I assured him that we are all gentlemen," he paused and bowed to his wife, "and ladies, of honour. If you and I can agree to put aside the unfortunate matter of the court case involving my dear cousin in order to enjoy a pleasant evening, then dining with one of the witnesses is a mere bagatelle."

The duchess laughed, a soft husky chuckle. "It is ridiculous, is it not? To think that the Judges of the Western Circuit would allow a mere social acquaintance to divert them from their duty to justice and the law?"

The judge had not been proof against Her Grace's charm. "Ridiculous," he repeated. "Quite so."

Julia's musing was disrupted by the sound of trumpets. "They're here," Maddox said. Not that the judges appeared straight away. They would have been escorted to chambers, she remembered.

Several javelin men marched into the hall, to stand at ease spaced along the sides of the wall. A whole crowd of barristers arrived in their robes and wigs, to occupy the seats in the centre of the room, facing the judges' dais and the jury stalls. "Local barristers try to attend the Quarter Sessions and the Assizes whether or not they are involved in a case," she had been told.

Then an inner door at the front end of the room opened, and the grand jury was ushered in. Twelve justices of the peace from Bristol, here to listen to the evidence and decide the fates of those accused. Would they have sympathy for her friends? Would they see that the death of Athol Soddenfield, the beast, had not been deliberate; that Julia had nothing to do with it and that Gills did not intend it?

In the folds of her skirt where she and Maddox had been secretly holding hands, Maddox rubbed his thumb soothingly, and she realised she had gripped him until her knuckles whitened. She deliberately relaxed her hand and shot him a smile.

The trumpets sounded again, and a small man in a wig stood and shouted, "All rise for their Honours, Chief Justice Mullin, Justice Weathergood, and Justice Brownlea."

Of the six judges who covered the trials between them, Weathergood was the most curmudgeonly and traditional, from what Emily had observed. He had treated her with frigid politeness yesterday evening, but his disapproval had been obvious, though its cause was not explained.

Mullin was a pleasant enough man, showing only a social facade, behind which an intelligent man weighed every word and expression. If he would wield those weapons without prejudice, his presence could be a benefit to her friends.

Brownlea was the man who had explained the protocol and pageantry of the Assizes to her.

On the whole, she thought, it could have been worse.

By the time she'd reached that conclusion, the ceremonial part of the day was over, and the first case was being called. Emily listened impatiently as the clerk read the indictment, and the warder with the accused announced that he was pleading guilty. The judges conferred briefly and committed the defendant to transportation.

The prisoner was escorted out and another brought in, for the same process to repeat, and repeat again four times more.

The clerk then announced that their Honours would be taking a brief break. "All rise," he demanded. Emily stood, with Maddox's hand under his elbow. "Court will resume session at eleven o'clock," said the clerk, as the judges processed out of the door at the back of the judges' bench, and the jurors left by the door they'd come in.

"Eleven o'clock," Maddox repeated, holding out his watch. Half an hour, then, and they had been here since eight. He caught the eye of the usher, and strode over to whisper to the man. Emily caught the glimpse of gold being passed from Maddox's hand into the usher's, and then the two of them returned to Emily.

"This kind gentleman is going to keep our seats empty for us while we see to our comfort," Maddox told her. "The retiring room and then a cup of tea, Miss Kilbrierry?"

Emily nodded. It was wise. Who knew how long until the next break?