Love in the Balance (26 page)

“Not a legal option,” Judge Rice said. “Molly does need to determine what charges she wants to bring, although a settlement by the family would be more profitable than a conviction.”

Molly sputtered. “I would never take money. I’m not some floozy he leased.”

“Molly, your language—” The reverend adjusted his string tie.

“They’ll use stronger language than that to describe me if I don’t send him to jail. He should pay, not his family.”

Could she be as blindsided as the rest of them? Her rocker swayed in short jerky swings as she turned toward the window, her face crumpled in a scowl.

Bailey scowled, too. How could she not know? But then again, what had any of them known about the man? That foolish, rash decision would cost her.

“Pray over your choices,” Stoker was saying. “Talk to your parents if it won’t distress your father.”

“And if you have questions concerning the legal aspects, see me between trials. We’ll be bringing the man in anyway, so there’s no reason for you to spread the story until he arrives.”

The men stood. Stoker placed a hand on Molly’s shoulder. “I’ll see the judge out. Bailey, will you stay with her for a minute?”

He nodded, although his head felt heavy enough to snap his neck and smash his foot.

Unmarried?

Bailey had come to accept the fact that Molly was off-limits. It broke his heart knowing that they would never be together, but the courtly idea of loving and caring for her from afar was safe. Now unmarried . . . having never been married . . . where did that leave them? What did she expect from him?

He needed space. He needed to think. Bailey thought he’d forgiven her until he was reminded of what she had done to offend him in the first place. She’d stolen their chance of happiness. He’d buried all his hope. Digging it up, corroded and musty, was still a loss. It wasn’t the same.

“I can’t stay in here with you,” he blurted.

Molly looked away. Her lashes fluttered downward. “I don’t expect you to.”

“I mean . . . I just can’t. As much as I’d like to be a friend for you . . . I can’t. Not right now.”

“Go, then,” she said. “I’ll be all right.”

She was fibbing, but he wasn’t strong enough to challenge it. He stalked out, catching sight of her pain-stricken face. The compassion that threatened to draw him to her side would have to be squelched. If he was going to help her in any way, it must be with the understanding that she was off-limits. Whether or not she was legally wed didn’t alter the fact that she had been . . . and that she’d chosen another man over him.

Bailey headed to the livery stable, although he hardly knew where his legs were carrying him. He tried to untangle the implications, but his first instinct was to pretend that nothing had changed. Whether she regretted her decision, she had still decided and there was no going back.

Besides, he had to think about his work with the church. Molly was a fallen woman. No church in the country would allow him behind a pulpit if he married Molly. God couldn’t call him to a vocation that required a spotless reputation—not if he and Molly were to be together.

He found the stall holding his father’s horse and leaned his arms and chin atop the high wall. It was cruel, really, because although the barrier of a marriage had been removed, the stain of the scandal had just begun to spread. Word would travel fast and so would judgment. He hoped that Edward Pierrepont’s punishment would be swift and severe enough to satisfy the inevitable outrage. The people would need a villain to despise, and Bailey prayed it wouldn’t be Molly.

22

M
ARCH
1880

“It’s nice to see I have one relative who isn’t completely unbalanced. Who would’ve thought we’d turn out to be the sane representatives of our family?” Nicholas wrapped his sister in a bear hug, mindless of the observers in the courthouse waiting room, and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her. “I’m sorry I won’t be here for the trial. Some railroad track washed out around San Marcos and needs to be replaced.”

Her brother’s business was the one bright spot in the family’s saga, but his success meant that he traveled the tracks from Garber to Galveston and was rarely close enough to offer a sympathetic ear.

Molly wondered what she could’ve accomplished had she been given the freedom that Nick enjoyed as a man. Oh well. There was no use being bitter. She’d messed up the one choice she’d made.

“My railroad contacts tell me that Mr. Pierrepont arrived on the train Wednesday,” Nick said. “They found him in Montana Territory waiting for the snow to clear off the track before he crossed into Canada. You’re lucky they caught him when they did.”

“How are Mother and Father coping?” Molly led him down an empty corridor and hoped the bailiff would be able to find her when Judge Rice needed her to return to her post.

Nicholas, never willing to stand upright if there was an obliging partition available, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “I stopped in to see them on the way from the train station in Luling. When I asked about the trial, Mother cried, wailed, and tried to blame Father. Father swore constantly and threatened to kill the man. Jiminy! I can’t blame you for wanting to get away. I’d forgotten how loud the two of them could get.” He pulled at his starched cuffs so they peeked the prescribed half an inch from his coat sleeves.

Molly lowered herself onto the bench and tucked her feet beneath it. “I’d hoped that he would’ve found some peace by now. Do you think his health was affected?”

“He seems stronger than ever. Making the Pierreponts pay has given him an incentive to live.” Nicholas pushed off the wall. “He’ll be fine. I’m more concerned about you.”

Molly leaned forward. “I don’t know what to do, Nick. I wish I could flag down every buggy on the square, go door to door and clear my name, but I have to keep moving forward. My future employment is uncertain. I don’t think Judge Rice will allow an adulteress to work in the courtroom, and somehow that’s a bigger shock than Edward’s lies. I’ve already accepted that he’ll never return. I’ve given up on a husband and family and plan to pursue a career. I could end up without either.”

“Rubbish. Judge Rice knows you were lied to. Edward Pierrepont will be found guilty and you’ll be cleared.”

“I pray it’s so. This court case could salvage my reputation. Someone is guilty here. If Edward isn’t, then what will people say?”

“What if Edward comes back and you learn that your marriage is legal? Could you be happy?”

Molly plucked at her sleeve. Happiest would be Edward Pierrepont never having laid a well-shod foot on Texas soil. But nothing could alter the past. Beyond that she wasn’t sure which would be worse: always carrying the stain of adultery or being at the mercy of an unscrupulous man. Given time, would Edward humiliate her again?

“If he returned, I’d try to be content with the situation for Father and Mother’s sake. They’d keep their rich son-in-law to help with the business, and I’d have met all of Father’s expectations.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t break down here in the courthouse, not on a workday. The next session could start at any time, and Judge Rice needed her there transcribing the case. “Enough about that. Tell me all the Prairie Lea gossip, the little that doesn’t involve me, that is.”

The side of Nicholas’s mouth rose, but he didn’t deny her assumption. “For starters, there’s Michael James. It’s whispered that he’s lurking about, but the law hasn’t been able to catch him—and they’re trying. Knowing that he’s been rustling cattle makes you wonder if he didn’t kill the man by the creek.”

“That’d be good news for Anne, but not for his father. I hope people show Russell some compassion.”

“I saw Russell yesterday, and I hate to say it, but he looks like he’s aged a decade. And the way he slinks about—it’s as if he’s the criminal. It’s a pity, but at least Anne Tillerton has been released, but I suppose you knew that. She’s an odd bird, that one.”

“Anne’s not as brusque as she wants people to believe. Maybe if I’d start wearing buckskin trousers, people would stop pestering me, too.”

Her brother studied her. “Mol, why don’t you come home, even if it’s for a few days? I’m sure Mother and Father want to see that you’re all right.”

“But they didn’t say that, did they?”

Nicholas suddenly spotted a place on his cuff link that needed polishing. “If it makes you feel any better, the mill seems to be doing well. As much business as Bailey’s bringing in, he’ll have it turned around soon. And with his ferrying messages and paper work, Father’s content. He’s even made it out to Bradford’s Mercantile a few times for checkers and coffee. I’ll tell you what, that Bailey has been a godsend. If only . . .”

Molly rose and walked to the window at the end of the corridor.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s awfully poor taste, but I can’t help thinking that you and Bailey might get your chance after all. Don’t forget, he asked Father for your hand the day you left with Edward. Surely he’ll renew his suit once Pierrepont is behind bars.”

She could still hear Bailey’s words from two days ago. He couldn’t bear to be in her company. If he was kind, if he was helpful, it was only out of charity. Having Pierrepont accept responsibility for his actions would go far toward redeeming her reputation, but if she was going to have a future, it’d be one she chiseled out herself.

Not a week had passed since Nick’s visit, and the trial was at hand. From the courthouse antechamber, Molly could hear muffled voices in the courtroom. Drowsy, conversational, nothing concerning her yet. She flopped into the leather chair and took as deep of a breath as her stays would allow. Her fingers were cold, and dampness crept through her bodice under her arms as she waited for the trial to start.

She jumped when the door opened and Sheriff Colton entered.

“I’m surprised to see your father here,” he said.

“Mother couldn’t keep him away.” She hoped they’d made the right decision. Physically restraining him seemed more harmful than letting him sit through the deposition. “Is Edward here, too?”

The sheriff polished his badge with his thumb. “Yes, ma’am. Already been ushered into the courtroom. Bailiff will be calling you directly.”

Molly folded her hands primly in her lap and tried to unknot the dread growing in her stomach. She would see him today, see the man who’d promised her the world and left her with nothing. But worse than facing him was facing her own folly. She could’ve chosen differently. She could’ve bucked against her parents’ expectations and found other means to help them. But she’d given in.

The bailiff opened the door and motioned for her to follow. Usually the plaintiff was seated before the defendant, but nothing about this hearing was typical. There’d be no stenographer, since Prue was on her honeymoon and Molly would be seated at the plaintiff’s table by Mr. Collins, the district attorney.

The massive judge’s bench in the center of the courtroom had never looked so intimidating. This was the first time Molly had ever walked before it as a party to an action. Thankfully, this hearing was private. No indolent onlookers were allowed inside.

She recognized Edward’s back, although he was wearing a suit she’d never seen before. Evidently his finances were still liquid. She faltered at the wooden gate leading from the galley when a rustling at her side caught her attention. There her parents sat, her mother straight-backed, her father squirming and seething. Finally they’d found someone who had earned more of their disapproval than she had.

Judge Rice acknowledged her with a dip of his head, and she went to sit on the right and faced straight forward.

“Your Honor,” the stranger at Edward’s table said, “Mr. Pierrepont would like to have a private word with Miss Lovelace before the proceedings.”

The judge’s blue eyes turned cold. “I think that time has passed. I would advise Mrs. Pierrepont against such action. Mrs. Pierrepont, are you content to begin?”

What could he have to say to her? If he was whisked to jail after the proceedings, she might never know.

“He may speak, but not in private. Let him have his say here,” she said.

The judge nodded and the small gathering quieted as Edward stood. Molly studied his empty chair, being the closest to his person she would allow her eyes to wander.

“First off, let me remind you that these are words I’d rather share in private, but since that avenue is closed to me, I want to assure Miss Lovelace that, although not responsible for her situation, I am deeply sympathetic and would alleviate her suffering as much as possible.”

She recognized her father’s snort from the galley, but Edward continued.

“I think it would be in her best interest to curtail these proceedings and reach a more profitable arrangement. I’m prepared to settle a generous sum on Miss Lovelace for any inconvenience our relationship has caused.”

The room was so still Molly could hear a horse whinnying on the square.

“Molly?”

Without intending to, she met his eyes and saw the man on whom she’d pinned her hopes. He was supposed to have been her savior, not her destroyer. But he didn’t look sorry. He looked as he always did—as if he admired and appreciated her, as if he couldn’t be dirtied by the squalid mores of the bourgeoisie.