Kenleigh-Blakewell Family Saga Boxed Set (Books 1 & 2)

by Pamela Clare

  “Proceed.”

  “Nicholas Braden, a convict condemned to fourteen years servitude for the crime of ravishment, stands accused again of ravishment, as well as attempting to escape his rightful master, horse theft, assault on a gentleman, and murder of that same gentleman, the recently departed Master Geoffrey Crichton the Third. What say you to these charges?”

  “To all but one, I plead innocent, as I was merely defending myself. As for the charge of ravishment, I am guilty.”

  An excited chatter arose in the courtroom, and Cassie found herself staring openmouthed in shock. Ravishment? She had lain with him willingly!

  “Father had Drysdale include that charge to protect you,” Lucy whispered, as if reading her mind.

  “But it’s not true!” Cassie whispered back.

  “Silence!” the governor shouted. “Another interruption and I shall have the sheriff arrest every third person among you.”

  The din dropped to a whisper.

  Cassie’s heart sank, and her mind raced to the obvious conclusion. This was how Master Carter had kept the sheriff at bay. Alec had agreed to a lie for her sake. Did he not realize he’d given them everything they needed to hang him?

  “You do understand this court need only convict you of one charge to order you hanged?” the governor asked. “If you plead guilty, we need not hold this trial. Because you are already a convicted felon, we could hang you straightaway.”

  “If I may, Your Honor,” said a slight young man Cassie had not noticed before. “I am Master George Ludwell, Esquire, Sir, lately retained by Master Robert Carter to represent Master Kenleigh.”

  “His name is Braden,” Drysdale retorted. “Young Ludwell is trying to confuse us, Governor.”

  Looking slightly annoyed, the governor waved off Drysdale’s concern and motioned for Master Ludwell to continue.

  “The defendant does understand the gravity of his pleading guilty but hopes the court will concede to hear this case, as the circumstances behind the charges are most unusual. We believe that after all has been heard, the court will allow Master Kenleigh—”

  “Braden!”

  “—to plead benefit of clergy on the charge of ravishment.”

  Everyone began shouting at once—the governor, Master Drysdale, Master Ludwell, Master Crichton, and a gallery full of spectators who’d evidently forgotten the governor’s threat.

  Cassie stared wide-eyed at Lucy, who smiled, her face alight with excitement.

  “You see, dear, there is hope.” Lucy gave Cassie a little hug.

  Hope. Cassie had not dared to feel hope for so long, she scarcely recognized the emotion. Was there a chance? If he was allowed to plead benefit of clergy, the court could sentence Alec only to being branded on the thumb with a cold iron. But how could they accomplish this?

  “Silence!” The shout came not from the governor, but from the court crier, who strode importantly into the center of the courtroom and began beating the base of his staff against the floor. “Silence!”

  The clamor slowly subsided.

  “Governor, surely you cannot allow this farce to proceed!” The voice was Master Crichton’s. “This man killed my son, and now he wants to weasel out of the hangman’s noose with far-fetched stories! He’s already seen to it that his whore won’t hang with him—”

  Cassie felt heat rush into her face.

  “Master Crichton, contain yourself!” Governor Gooch demanded. The governor eyed the entire courtroom in silence before speaking again. “In the interests of fairness and justice, I will allow this trial to continue, but I must warn you, Ludwell, I will not allow you to make a mockery of the law by presenting evidence that has no basis in fact.”

  “Understood, Your Honor. Thank you, Sir,” Ludwell said.

  By noon, any hope Cassie had felt had faded away completely, as witness after witness described the events leading to Geoffrey’s death. With each word, Cassie felt the jury’s hearts grow harder toward the man she loved. Nicholas Braden, the convict who tried to escape a fourteen-year sentence. Nicholas Braden, the convict who, failing to gain his freedom, seduced his master’s daughter and bent her to his will. Nicholas Braden, the convict who ruined a fallen woman’s only chance at respectability by breaking up the marriage sacrament and killing the noble-hearted gentleman who’d offered to marry her.

  Sheriff Hollingsworth told the court how he’d almost been convinced Alec was telling the truth—until Philip’s letter had come from London, proving him a liar. He read the letter to the court, every damning word. Then he read aloud from Nicholas Braden’s indenture papers, which claimed Nicholas Braden was a “seducer and defiler of women.”

  Reverend Dinwiddie, clutching a Bible, testified that Geoffrey had tried to save Cassie from herself, going so far as to offer her child a name it didn’t deserve. Exaggerating all the while, he told the court how Alec had disrupted the marriage ceremony and assaulted Geoffrey in the church. Then he told how Alec had shot and killed Geoffrey when Geoffrey, armed with the reverend’s pistol, tried to stop Alec from running away with the disgraced bride.

  Their testimony hadn’t seemed to bother Alec. Cassie had glanced furtively in his direction several times, to find him looking every bit the gentleman in control of his surroundings, his stance and brow relaxed as if he had no worries at all. Cassie did not share his confidence.

  The prosecutor’s case was simple: Nicholas Braden, a convict, had defiled his master’s daughter and was in the process of escaping when he’d killed the man who tried to stop him. All evidence pointed to that conclusion. What could Alec and the inexperienced George Ludwell say to counter such ruinous testimony?

  “It is Master Ludwell’s turn now,” Lucy whispered as Master Drysdale moved to rest his case.

  Master Ludwell rose and moved to the center of the room. “I call upon Alec Kenleigh to testify.”

  “I must protest this ruse!” cried Drysdale. “The man’s name is Nicholas Braden, and he should be referred to as such. Calling a rat ‘Your Highness’ and dressing it in ermine and velvet does not make it a prince.”

  Guffaws and chuckles filled the courtroom.

  The governor nodded, smiling at the quip. “Use the name that the court recognizes, young man,” he said with an impatient flick of the wrist.

  “Very well, Your Honor, but the issue of this man’s identity is central to his defense.”

  Unlike the others, who’d sat in the witness stand to testify, Alec was forced to remain on his feet in the prisoner’s box. “Sir, could you tell the jury your full name?”

  “Alec Madison Kenleigh the Third.”

  Cassie listened, fascinated, as Alec described for Master Ludwell details of his life she’d not heard before. It was disturbing to realize that, in a very real sense, Alec was a stranger to her. He’d been educated at Eton College as a boy, then gone on to study at Oxford, where he’d excelled in classical languages and mathematics. His father had groomed him from childhood to take over Kenleigh Shipyards, the family shipbuilding business, and had left him a vast estate, which he managed with the help of his brother-in-law, Lt. Matthew Hasting.

  “Yes, yes,” interrupted Master Drysdale, “this is all very interesting, but have you any proof? While we’d all love to go on listening to this narration, there is this trifling matter of a murder trial to be settled. Hadn’t you best present your evidence?”

  Cassie was horrified to see members of the jury chuckle.

  “Quite right. Quite right,” Governor Gooch agreed. “Get on with your argument.”

  “Very well. Master Kenleigh, can you tell the court how you came to be in this predicament?”

  Cassie would later recall that the courtroom was completely silent as Alec, his rich baritone voice filling the chamber, told how he’d been set upon and beaten in the dark, how he’d regained consciousness, confused and disoriented on a ship, how he’d been beaten for trying to free himself and finally awakened to find himself in this strange land, a prisoner.

>   “How did Miss Blakewell react when you told her this story?”

  “She didn’t believe me. As I recall, she laughed,” Alec said with a smile so charming, Cassie found herself smiling, too. “Still, she summoned the sheriff and allowed me to post a letter to England.”

  “Are you familiar with the reply that was received from Philip Kenleigh?”

  “Aye.”

  “Can you explain that letter?”

  “I’ve come to believe Philip was behind my abduction.” Alec then told of the fight he’d had with his brother that morning long ago and of Philip’s threat.

  “So Philip wanted you out of the way so he could inherit the estate and be free from restrictions you had imposed. Is that correct?”

  “It is the only way to make sense of what happened.”

  Though she could not see his eyes, Cassie heard sadness in his voice. How horrid it must be to find one’s own brother capable of such hate. She listened to Alec tell the part of the tale she knew—how he’d promised not to attempt escape, how he’d worked beside field hands and indentured servants and how he’d taken over care of the horses—and she began to feel hopeful. Surely the jurors would see he was telling the truth. Surely they could tell from his measured speech and manner that he was no miscreant.

  “So you kept your word, even passing up a chance to escape,” Master Ludwell said, after Alec recounted his riding to Corotoman for quinquina. “Please tell the court what events led to Geoffrey Crichton’s death.”

  But this part of the story was new. Cassie listened in shocked disbelief as Alec described how he had manipulated and seduced her, taking advantage of her father’s absence to steal her innocence.

  “She was untouched, a virgin unprepared to face male wiles. Unprotected, she stood no chance against a man of my experience,” Alec said. “I took advantage of her vulnerability and naiveté to ease my loneliness, and though I regret my actions, I’m fully prepared to take responsibility for Miss Blakewell once the matter of my identity is resolved.”

  Something twisted in Cassie’s heart. The rational part of her mind told her he was only saying these things to protect her. He didn’t truly mean them. He hadn’t taken advantage of her. He didn’t really regret the time he’d spent with her. He felt more than a sense of responsibility for her.

  Confused, her heart a jumble of emotion, Cassie listened to Alec recount how Geoffrey had found them in bed together, flogged him, and dragged Cassie against her will to Crichton Hall, and how Alec had waited until he was strong enough to stop a marriage he knew she didn’t want.

  “I wouldn’t see her punished for my lack of scruples,” he said. “When Geoffrey Crichton aimed a pistol at me, I fired to protect myself.”

  “This has all been very fascinating,” Master Drysdale said as he strode into the center of the room to cross-examine Alec. “Tell me, Braden, how long did it take you to manufacture this elaborate story?”

  “I did not manufacture it. It is the truth.”

  “Did Miss Blakewell help you with the details? She’s quite a liar herself, having kept us all in the dark about her father’s condition for so long. We still haven’t heard the whole truth on that subject, have we?”

  Cassie lifted her chin in defiance, and saw Alec’s expression harden.

  “Leave Miss Blakewell out of this.” The menace in his voice was real.

  Master Drysdale turned toward the bench, the tails of his red robe swirling. “I have no questions for the prisoner, Governor. One cannot challenge the veracity of fiction.”

  The gallery erupted with laughter, and Cassie realized in despair that no one believed Alec. They, like Master Drysdale, were convinced Alec was simply telling stories. Members of the jury were smiling.

  “They don’t believe him!” she whispered in alarm to Lucy.

  “Oh, Cassie, you poor dear!”

  The next hour passed in a blur. Master Ludwell called his remaining witness, Murphy, the indentured servant who had traveled to Blakewell’s Neck so long ago. Murphy repeated the story he’d told Cassie and the sheriff the previous summer about believing Cole Braden dead, only to find he’d come alive the next morning. But Master Drysdale confused the poor old man and made him look a fool.

  “Explain to the court why we should take a convicted felon at his word?” he’d asked at long last.

  “I’m tellin’ the truth, I am!” Murphy insisted as the gallery howled with laughter.

  “You may step down now,” Master Drysdale said with a dismissive flick of the wrist.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I tried,” Murphy said, looking up at Alec and shrugging his shoulders apologetically before being led away.

  “Do you have any more witnesses, Master Ludwell, perhaps someone who isn’t a felon?” the governor asked, chuckling at his own wit.

  “No, Your Honor. I am ready to address the jury.”

  “Let me testify!”

  A hushed silence fell over the courtroom, and Cassie felt all eyes upon her where she stood. “Please, Your Honor, I must speak!”

  “Cassie, no!” shouted Alec “You mustn’t—”

  “I say let her speak,” said Master Drysdale, his voice unctuous. “If Miss Blakewell can shed light on this situation, she should be heard.”

  “Master Ludwell?” The governor eyed the young counselor, who was exchanging furious whispers with Alec.

  “I agree with our esteemed attorney general,” Master Ludwell said, ignoring the anger in Alec’s gaze. “Let Miss Blakewell testify.”

  Cassie’s legs trembled. Slowly, unsteadily, she walked to the bench and took her place in the witness box. Gazing out at the courtroom, she was astonished to see so many unforgiving faces. She glanced in Alec’s direction, saw the hard lines of fury on his face and looked away.

  “Place your hand on the Bible,” the court crier instructed. “Miss Blakewell, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “I do.”

  “Miss Blakewell,” Master Ludwell began, “why do you wish to testify today?”

  “I want everyone to hear what kind of man Alec Kenleigh truly is.” Cassie was surprised to hear strength in her voice. She was surprised she could speak at all. “You all think he’s lying, but I know he’s telling the truth.”

  Cassie couldn’t help looking at Alec. Though she could tell he was angry with her, she saw nothing but concern in his eyes.

  “Go ahead, Miss Blakewell. We’re listening.”

  “When he first regained consciousness, Mr. Kenleigh demanded to know where he was. When I told him he was in Lancaster County, Virginia, he looked like a man who’d gotten the shock of his life. He fainted dead away. I thought it strange at the time, but then he’d been so feverish.

  “When he regained his strength, he told me the same story he told all of you here today. I didn’t believe him either, but I let him write a letter in exchange for his promise not to attempt escape. It seemed the right thing to do.”

  “And did Master Kenleigh keep his word?” Master Ludwell’s sympathetic eyes bolstered Cassie’s confidence.

  “Aye, he did. He had many chances to escape. He’d told me he bred racehorses in England, so I put him in charge of my father’s stables. It was a test—to see if he truly understood how to work with horses. Even though he exercised the horses each day, riding alone for hours at a time, he always came back.”

  “You didn’t keep him in chains or under guard? Why not?”

  “My father does not believe in chaining people as if they were animals, Master Ludwell. Neither do I. But I did have one of the slaves guard Mr. Kenleigh until I came to trust him.”

  “Why did you decide to trust him?”

  “It was obvious after a time that he was a man of honor. He worked as hard as any man I’ve ever known, harder than most. The other bondsmen and slaves looked to him for guidance. I found myself relying on his good judgment. Even the children adored him.”

  “I see,” said M
aster Ludwell.

  “But there’s more. He caught my little brother when he fell into our well and saved his life. Once while riding in the marsh, I hit my head on a branch and fell unconscious into the water. He could have left me to drown. He could have escaped. He didn’t. He saved my life. And when we ran out of quinquina and so many were still sick, he rode without my knowledge to Corotoman, risking his own life to trade with Master Carter for more powder. When our bondswoman Rebecca needed a man’s strength to help in the birth of her baby, he did what was asked without protest. Besides, why would he continue to protest his innocence if it weren’t true?”

  “I have seen guilty men insist on their innocence all the way to the gallows, Miss Blakewell,” the governor muttered.

  “Then perhaps you have seen innocent men hanged, Your Honor.”

  Repressed laughter snaked through the crowd.

  “And all of this convinced you he was telling the truth?”

  Cassie looked up at the faces in the gallery. The men’s faces were still hard as they leered at her. But the women… The women were beginning to understand. Cassie could see it in on their faces, in their eyes, which had softened and now looked at her not with scorn, but with compassion.

  “Aye, and besides … ” Cassie took a deep breath and looked over at Alec, her gaze locking with his. “I could not have given myself to a man who would willingly harm another.”

  Alec looked into the green of Cassie’s eyes, the explosive din of the courtroom as quiet as the whisper of grass to his ears. He wondered if he’d ever had as much faith in anyone as she’d just shown in him. Dear God, how he loved her. She had put herself in mortal danger because she thought somehow her feelings for him could convince the jury. But the jury was already convinced. They believed him guilty and would see him hanged.

  Oh, Cassie, what have you done?

  “Silence! Silence, I say!” the governor thundered.

  Master Drysdale approached the witness box. Alec could tell by his predatory expression that he thought to amuse himself with Cassie. Alec felt heat build in his chest, felt his body tense.

  “Miss Blakewell, we are all quite moved by your testimony. Aren’t we?” Master Drysdale turned to the gallery and arched his eyebrows, drawing laughter from the men. “I know that I’m touched. I’m not sure a woman’s desire has ever been used as a defense before. ‘Don’t hang him, Your Honor. I know he’s innocent because I’ve lain with him.’” Master Drysdale’s imitation of a woman’s voice drew even more laughter.