Never Land the First Fish

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Part 3

The barristers joined Gills and Julia for lunch, sending the warders to wait outside. They were in a self-congratulatory mood.

"It is going well, I think," Mr Rutledge said, and Sir Thomas nodded, though he warned, "We must not count our chickens yet."

Gills handed Julia a plate he had filled from the buffet that must have been prepared for people of far more account than a pair of accused murderers. It was certainly a far cry from the miserable gruel she had been served for breakfast.

"You need to eat," Gills told her. She looked down at a plate of perfectly sliced ham, fresh vegetables gently steamed and served with a butter sauce, a slice of tender chicken, and a potato, baked and served with sour cream. Yes, perhaps she was hungry, after all.

"Yes, yes," Sir Thomas agreed. "Keep up your strength. I would like to put you on the stand first, Lady Julia."

Her appetite fled. "Me? You are calling me? I didn't think..."

She trailed off, and Gills, who had taken the seat beside her, covered her hand with his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Is it not unusual to call a woman defendant?" he asked.

"In most cases, it would be a risk," Mr Rutledge acknowledged, "but that always sets the jury wondering what the defendant has to hide."

"Lady Julia is innocent, which is to her advantage," Sir Thomas proclaimed. "We have already established, beyond shadow of a doubt, that Soddenfield was a brute, an adulterer, and a liar, so the jury has sympathy for her. Furthermore, she is young, pretty, and ladylike." His grin was feral. "When the prosecutor attacks her in cross examination—" he turned his attention to Julia, "and he will, my lady, so you must be prepared for that—the jury will want to leap to her defence."

"His questions will not be harder than the ones we asked you at Brickdale," Mr Rutledge assured her.

Gills squeezed her hand again, and said, "Does she have to do it?"

"I will if it is best," Julia said, firmly. She turned her hand around so that she could clasp Gills. "Sir Thomas and Mr Rutledge believe I can do this, Gills."

"Of course you can, sweetheart," Gills assured her. "It just seems unfair that you have to."

"Lady Julia is our only eyewitness to what happened before you arrived, Lord Joseph," Sir Thomas pointed out, and your main corroborating witness up to the time you boarded Lord Maddox's ship."

"I missed much of what happened," Julia pointed out. "Gills sent me outside, and I slept a lot of the time."

"You were unconscious much of the time, you mean," said Sir Thomas. "Just tell the truth, Lady Julia. If you did not see something, say so. If you do not remember, say so."

Julia nodded. She could do that.

Gills had released her hand in order to load her fork from her plate.

"Eat something now, sweeting," he urged her. She didn't think she would be able to swallow, but she tried, for Gills sake, and in the end managed enough of her lunch to satisfy him before they had to return to the court.

***

Julia was amazing. As Sir Thomas led her gently through the events of that horrible day, she stood, her hands clasped before her, her eyes on Sir Thomas. In the dark gown and bonnet that the barristers had approved for this appearance, she looked delicate and defenceless, but her voice was calm and steady, with only the occasional hitch, as she described how Athol had come home from a night out, drunk and angry. "Not drunk enough," she commented.

"What would be 'drunk enough'?" Sir Thomas asked.

Gills knew the answer; had heard it when she was rehearsing with the barristers. But it still caused his gorge to rise along with the red haze of rage.

"The best was when he was able to get home but then passed out. Then, as long as I stayed out of his way when he woke again, he would be off in search of another drink, another skirt to chase or game to play. If he drank himself into a stupor while he was out and then came home to change his clothes or rustle through the house for money, it was harder to hide. But at least if he was mostly sober, he did not hit me where it showed, or hard enough to break things. If he came home fighting drunk, that was the worst."

Sir Thomas didn't press for more details, but simply reminded the jury that they had already heard evidence of Lord Athol's brutal treatment of Lady Julia.

"That day, he was not drunk enough, and he was beating you," he stated. "What was his reason? Or did he not need a reason?"

Julia blushed. Looking down at her hands, she mumbled an answer. The Chief Justice opened his mouth, but before he could demand that she spoke up, Sir Thomas said, "Lady Julia, I am going to have to ask you to repeat that loud enough for the court to hear."

Julia's eyes filled with tears, and her voice choked on her first attempt to speak. But she took a deep breath and tried again. "Athol told me he had lost heavily the night before, and that we would be killed in our beds if I did not..." She caught back a couple of shuddering breaths and blinked hard., "If I refused to allow a man to..." She finished on a rush. "He had offered me—a night with me—as his stake when he lost everything else he had to bet."

Gills was half aware of the voices raised around the large hall as people reacted while others repeated what Julia had said for those further back in the room. The Chief Justice banged his gavel and demanded silence.

"What was your response, my lady?" Sir Thomas asked.

"I told him that I would tell my cousin what he had done. I was in disgrace with the duke, as you know, but he would never have allowed Athol to get away with such an insult." With the tears still wet on her cheek she was suddenly aflame with indignation. "As Athol's wife, I suffered many indignities, but I was his wife. He had the right and the power to hurt and demean me. He did not have the right to pimp me to his creditors, and so I told him."

"Knowing he would beat you."

"Knowing he would probably kill me. I considered that preferable to the alternative."