“Wait by the door,” Mr Simpson ordered them, resuming his seat with a glare at Peter.
“From what I can see, there is no evidence to confirm you are married. The prisoner herself admits she is not married to you. There is no ground for a stay of execution, or even requesting the courts to go over the evidence again,” he reasoned. His eyes met and held those of the gaoler standing quietly in the corner of the room before he turned back to the prisoner, his face a mask of dispassionate arrogance.
“You are adamant you didn’t marry this man?” he asked, his voice now officious and brusque. Clearly, his decision had been made and he would do little else to assist them.
A sense of finality hung in the air as Peter turned his horrified gaze back to Jemima.
“Why won’t you help yourself?” he demanded, so frustrated with her that he wanted to punch something. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her harshly. “Why? Why would you want to go to the gallows?”
Jemima gasped, and reluctantly lifted her hands to place them on his forearms. Beneath the layers of material, she could feel the hard strength that thrummed with life and almost cried out with the need to be held by him just once more. Tears pooled in her eyes as she stared into his eyes one last time.
“I have no life now. Scraggan has seen to that. Even if I got a stay of execution, he would still haunt my every waking moment. There is no stopping him, you see,” and she swallowed harshly, wishing she had longer to make him understand.
&
nbsp; But inside she knew that even if she had several hours, he would never agree; never accept what she was about to say. “Scraggan set me up. So professionally, so completely, that I am going to die. He doesn’t have to sully his hands with murder. His deviousness has led to me being killed by the authorities - how clever is that? Even if I got out, what life do I have? Always looking over my shoulder; always waiting for the day he will reappear. He will be there tomorrow,” she nodded at the wooden structure outside. “To see for himself that his scheming has beaten me.”
She turned soulless eyes up to his, so lost in misery that she was unaware of the tear that had managed to escape and begin a solitary journey down her pale, dirty face.
“Eliza: do you know where she is?” She turned instinctively to the man beside the door.
Edward coughed and shifted closer. “Jemima, Eliza is perfectly safe from Scraggan. She is alive and well. She will soon have the protection of my name, and me to keep her from any further threat from anyone. I’m going to marry her,” Edward’s sympathetic eyes met hers. “She will be perfectly safe and cared for; have no fear.”
“You have affection for her?” Jemima asked, feeling driven to ensure Eliza was a willing participant in this new turn of events.
“Oh yes, most definitely,” he assured her, his own voice shaken.
Jemima studied him for several moments, her tremulous hold on her emotions wavering alarmingly. “Then be happy.” At least her sister would find happiness, in spite of Scraggan.
“Does she know?” She closed her eyes at Edward’s solemn nod. “Please keep her away.”
“Jemima,” Peter’s whisper shook with clawing fear. “Did you ever feel anything for me?”
Jemima couldn’t answer him. The words were there, but she couldn’t speak.
“Please don’t stay. I don’t want you there.” She croaked, watching the panic on his face with growing dread. She couldn’t bear to see him debased in such a way. Not someone as brave and stoic as her beloved Peter.
“Jemima, darling, please-” Peter argued, moving forward to grab her again and swing her around.
Ready this time, Jemima twisted out of his grasp and found herself face to face with Dominic, the eldest Cavendish brother. She was aware of Sebastian and the silent man behind the door rushing forward to hold Peter back, and took a few precious seconds to study the man before her.
“Keep him safe,” she whispered softly, tears flowing freely now she was away from Peter’s close scrutiny. “Please, if you have any affection for him at all, please take him away from here and don’t look back. I don’t want him there to watch.”
She could hear her words as though they were spoken by someone else. In the past few moments something inside her had closed down and was gone forever.
“I’ll take care of him,” Dominic declared, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. He wanted to sweep her into a hug, but instinctively knew she wouldn’t allow it. He felt the bitter sting of regret at the unfairness of it all as he watched her shuffle to the door and pause beside Edward.
“Jemima!” Peter shouted, watching her move toward the door. “Please don’t do this. Please. Darling, I love you. Please don’t do this.” He twisted and fought against the hands that held him back.
She daren’t look back. Tears trickled freely down her face as she stared out of the now open doorway into the darkness of the corridor beyond. It was like going down into the bowels of hell and she knew what awaited her at the end.
She turned to the man beside her. Edward. “Take care of Eliza; tell her I love her.” She watched as Edward swallowed harshly and nodded. “You need these.” She dug down into the front of her dress and removed three folded sheets of paper and a letter, handing them solemnly to Edward. “She is to read the letter first. Make sure Scraggan doesn’t get to her too.”
“I promise you here and now, Jemima, that Eliza is perfectly safe from harm. Nobody, not even Scraggan, will harm her while I have breath in my body,” Edward promised solemnly, frustration and grief at his inability to help sweeping through him as he watched her blink back the tears and square her shoulders.
“You should have agreed he was your husband,” he scolded, knowing as well as everyone else that it was pointless.
Slowly she shook her head. “He has sacrificed so much for me, given me so much that I can never repay him. I know that I have no way out of this: we all do. There is no absolution. Even if there was a stay of execution, it would only delay the inevitable. He doesn’t deserve to have his good name associated with a condemned, woman. Not after everything he has done for Eliza and me. Keep him safe. When this is over, and you are all old and grey-” Jemima paused, her voice wobbling with her tears, “tell him that I did love him, to my very last breath.”