A Leap of Faith (The Hands of Time: Book 2) (19 page)

Valerie waited until midmorning to go speak to the cook.  Mrs. Dolly was usually done with breakfast by then, and took a break before starting on lunch.  The house was quiet, with only the sound of the rain drumming on the windows breaking up the silence.  The morning was so gloomy that candles had to be lit, throwing their flickering shadows onto the walls of the corridor as Valerie walked to the kitchen.  The kitchen smelled of freshly baked bread and wild garlic, which Mrs. Dolly used to season the meat for lunch.  The cook was eating a buttered bun spread with some leftover jam and enjoying a cup of ale.  She always liked to eat after everyone was fed, the kitchen quiet and cozy.

“Mrs.
Dolly, Mr. Alec and I will be leaving for a few weeks,” Valerie began as she reached for a bun and began to spread it with butter.  She forgot to have breakfast this morning and was suddenly hungry. 

“Don’t y
e worry, Mrs. Whitfield.  Everything will be ship shape while yer are gone.  It will do ye good to get away from this place for a while.  There’s been too much sadness here lately.”

“Yes, there has.  How has Amelia been?”  Valerie took a bite of her bun
, licking a drop of jam off her lips.

“Better, I think.  She misses her sister, to be sure, but she seems more at peace than she has been for the past few months.”  Mrs. Dolly poured Valerie a glass of milk and pushed it toward her.  She knew Valerie didn’t care for ale.

“Had she been troubled before Cora’s death?”

“She ha
d been very sullen the last few months, always picking fights with Cora, but ye know how sisters can be.  One minute they are inseparable and the next they are fighting over nothing.”  Mrs. Dolly got up and began to peel turnips and carrots.

“I never really fought with my sister,” Valerie said.

“Well, ye’re a rare case then.  Most sisters fight. I even sent the two of them to different places, so they would get a little break from each other.”

“Mrs.
Dolly, where was Amelia when Cora went to the spring house?”  Valerie forgot all about her bun and stared at the cook’s back.

“She went to the barn to milk the cow, but I
cannot be sure that’s where she actually was.”  The cook threw a peeled carrot into a basin and moved on to another one.

“Did she come back with milk?”

“She said she took it directly to the spring house before coming back to help me wash the dishes.  Why?”

“No reason.  Just curious.”

Valerie finished her breakfast and went onto the veranda.  The rain was coming down hard, making it almost impossible to see anything.  Huge puddles formed in the natural depressions in the earth, worms suddenly crawling all over the veranda.  The thunderstorm had passed, but Valerie could still hear rumblings and see flashes of lightning in the distance.  She liked the smell of ozone in the air after a storm.

If what Mrs.
Dolly said was correct, then Cora had gone to the spring house, while Amelia went to the barn to milk the cow, and then to the spring house.  Cora never left the spring house, so Amelia must have seen her when she brought the milk.  It was impossible not to notice Cora lying there.  Had Amelia run into Cora at the spring house, or was she already dead by the time she got there?  If she was, why didn’t she tell anyone?  None of this made any sense.  Why would Amelia want to hurt her sister?  They came over from England together, and did everything in their power not to be separated.  What drove a wedge between them?  Was it Charles?  Was Amelia jealous of Cora’s relationship with Charles enough to kill her?  The idea seemed preposterous, but Valerie needed to speak to Amelia again. 

Kit waited until the crowd of sailors quieted down before opening the Bible to the place Reverend Blackley marked for him.  He’d never performed a wedding ceremony before, and was a little nervous.  The bridal couple stood in front of him, looking grimmer than any couple getting married had a right to.  The reverend was pale and tense, while Anne Collins just seemed vacant.  She wasn’t unhappy, just indifferent.  Kit looked away from them and began to speak.  He had no desire to do this and secretly thought that Reverend Blackley and Anne Collins had no business getting married.  He knew that plenty of marriages were based on things other than love, but this just seemed all wrong to him.  The reverend was marrying the girl out of pity, and giving up his husbandly rights, and the girl was simply looking for someone to protect her.  She was like a wounded bird that needed tending, but even wounded birds eventually healed and wanted to take flight. 

Kit
wondered how he would feel if he had to agree to a sexless marriage.  He could see Louisa standing behind Anne, a picture of feminine grace and good health.  Helena had loved him since he was a boy and tried to please him in all areas of their marriage, but his relationship with Louisa was different.  Helena deferred to him in everything, accepting his word as law.  She never questioned him, or volunteered her opinion unless he asked for it.  She was the same way in the marriage bed.  She gave herself to him, but never asked for anything in return, and certainly never dared to try anything that might be considered improper for a decent woman.  Kit fantasized of doing certain things, but he never broached the subject, afraid to offend his wife.  Helena would see those things as depraved and humiliating. 

Louisa was completely different. 
Her appetite matched his own, and she seemed open to anything he wanted to try.  He had never tied anyone up before, and had been apprehensive about Louisa’s reaction, but she had been so aroused that he had to think of mundane log entries, or a list of repairs to be undertaken, to hold himself back.  Louisa didn’t just lay there allowing him to take her; she wanted to give him pleasure as well, and felt no embarrassment at touching him and exploring him in ways no woman ever had. 

Kit felt sorry for the miserable pair in front of him, knowing that some of the
greatest pleasures of being human would be completely out of their reach.  He concluded the ceremony and asked the reverend to kiss his bride.  The kiss was tight-lipped and chaste, with the bride nearly pulling away at the last second.  Once the ceremony was over, the reverend seemed to relax a little and reached out for the book.  He switched places with Kit and flipped the book open, ready to begin.  Kit held out his hand to Louisa, who took it without reserve, and stepped in front of the reverend.  Their marriage would be different and Kit couldn’t wait for it to begin. 

Valerie had several chances to speak to Amelia, but every time she saw the girl alone, something stopped her.  If she was truly honest with herself, she didn’t want to know if Amelia was responsible.  She liked the girl, and feared finding out the truth, but if Cora was truly murdered she couldn’t just let it go.  She owed it to the poor girl to find out the truth, especially since they would be leaving Virginia next week.  How could she leave her children alone when there was a murderer on the loose? 

Valerie saw Amelia heading for the spring house
, and decided not to waste the opportunity.  She gave her a head start and then followed discreetly, waiting for Amelia to disappear inside the dim confines of the little structure.  Amelia was just lifting a can of butter out of the spring when Valerie quietly slipped inside.  The girl looked ashen as Valerie faced her across the spring.

“So, is this where it happened, Amelia?”  She wasn’t sure what happened, but hoped the girl didn’t know that and would blurt out the truth.  Amelia’s eyes slid away from Valerie’s, but she didn’t say anything.  “Why did you do it?”

Amelia looked up, her expression one of terrible pain.  “I didn’t mean to, Mrs. Whitfield.  As God is my witness, I didn’t mean to.”  The can of butter fell to the stone floor as Amelia sank down in a heap, her legs no longer holding her up.  “I was just so angry.  She laughed at me.”

“Why did your sister laugh at you?”  Valerie remained in her position, not daring to
get too close to Amelia.  If she killed once….

“She
was not my sister,” whispered Amelia. 

“Who was she then?”  Valerie sat down on the floor across from Amelia, waiting for the girl to answer.  She didn’t want to tower over her
, making her feel intimidated.

“Cora and I grew up in a brothel in Plymouth.  Our mothers were employed by Miss
Tilly, who was only too happy to ‘ave free help around the establishment.  Cora and I cleaned, washed, took out the chamber pots and swept out the hearth.  The women were always nice to us during the day, but we had to become invisible at night once the customers came.  By the time I was seven, I’d seen and heard more than any grown woman.  I was scared of men.  They were like wild beasts that panted and grunted and sometimes lost control and hit the girls.  I didn’t want that life for myself.” 

Valerie could only imagine the life these poor little girls had in the brothel, but she asked Amelia to go on. 

“As Cora and I got older, it was understood that we would start working for Miss Tilly once we began to bleed.  She was already planning to sell our maidenheads to the highest bidder.  There is quite a market for such things, believe it or not.  So, Cora and I decided to run away.  We would go to the docks and sell ourselves as indentured servants, telling everyone we were sisters, to stay together.  It worked.  A captain bound for the New World bought us, then sold us on to Mister Whitfield.”  Amelia wiped her eyes and hung her head even lower than it already was. 

“You see, I’ve always loved Cora
, and I wanted her to love me.  I wanted to give her comfort and affection.”  Valerie thought she understood what the girl was trying to say.

“Were you lovers?”  The girl nodded miserably.  “It wasn’t sordid like it was with the men.  It was wonderful and pure.  We simply gave each other pleasure and love.  Then Cora started up with Mister Charles.” 

“Were you jealous?”  Valerie asked.

“Not at first.  If that
was what she wanted to do I couldn’t stop her, but after a while she started pushing me away.  She said that she liked his prick, and it gave her more pleasure than I ever could.  We started fighting and avoiding each other.”

“What happened that day, Amelia?”

“I went to milk the cow, and found Cora here when I brought the milk.  She was fetching something for Mrs. Dolly.  I tried to reason with her, but she was so angry.  Mr. Charles was going to marry some prissy young lady, and Cora was in a state.  She started yelling at me, telling me that I was unnatural, an abomination.  She called me names and told me to leave her alone.  She said I disgusted her and made her feel soiled.

Then, she began to laugh at me and said that what I needed
was good, stiff prick to show me what loving was really about, and that since I was still a maid I couldn’t possibly understand the needs of a woman.  I was so hurt, I thought I would die.  She slapped me across the face, so I pushed her.”

Amelia was crying into her apron, whimpering like a kitten.  “I didn’t mean to kill her.  I really didn’t, but I was in such a rage.  I went over to
‘er and slammed ‘er head against the floor again and again, then dragged ‘er behind the cans and ran.  I knew she’d be found, but I didn’t know what to do.  I was so scared and sorry.  I prayed and prayed for forgiveness, but I knew I would ‘ave to tell the truth if Mister Charles was accused of killing ‘er.  ‘e was good to ‘er, ‘e was.  I couldn’t stand by and watch ‘im pay the price for my crime.”  Amelia stood up slowly, leaving the can of butter on the floor.

“What will you do with me, Mrs.
Whitfield?  Will I hang?”

“I don’t know what to do, Amelia.  I am horrified by what you’ve done, but I feel pity for you.  I will need to speak to Mr. Whitfield.  In the meantime,
let’s go back to the house, shall we?”  Valerie took the girl by the arm and led her back to the main house, her mind still trying to comprehend what she’d heard. 

Valerie locked Amelia in her room and went in search of Alec. 
Murder was punishable by death, but Valerie hoped she could somehow persuade Alec not to turn her over to the law.  A governor from England had recently come to take up his post in Virginia, and he might demand that Amelia be hanged, to send a message to the colonists that crime would not go unpunished.  It’s not that she didn’t think Amelia should pay for what she’d done, but having come from the future, her stance on capital punishment was a little different than most of the people around her.  She wondered what Alec would say.

**
*

“She bashed her head in?” Alec gaped at Valerie.  “She admitted that to you?”  He was in the stable, mucking out a stall when Valerie found him.  Alec returned the pitchfork to its rightful place and sat down on a bale of hay, stunned.  “I can’t believe it.”

Valerie sat down next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder.  “What should we do with her?  Will you turn her over to the magistrate?  Can you imagine what they’ll do to her if they find out about the fornication?  They might whip her or put her in the pillory before hanging her.  Oh, it’s too much, Alec.”

“No one knows the whole story, so no one has to find out about
that side of things.  I cannot imagine that they even have a specific punishment for relations between two women.  It’s usually the sodomy and the buggery that they are concerned with.  They will hang her for murder, most likely.  I suppose she could use the “Benefit of clergy” to get out of hanging. 

“What is that?” Valerie had never heard of that term before.

“It’s a type of loophole found in the Bible.  It’s the first few lines of Psalm 51. 

"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving kindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions."  Alec recited the lines by heart, no doubt thinking of Finlay.

“Does that actually work?”  Valerie was shocked.  Was that all a person had to say to avoid hanging?

“In most cases, if the
accused knows about it.  I suppose I’d better go speak to the girl.”  Alec rose from the bale of hay and turned to Valerie.  “I wish it had been an accident.”

“Me too.”