With a sad smile, she shuffled out of the door and into the darkness. Peter’s shouts were swiftly cut off by the heavy slam of the door behind her. The only sounds left were those of the booted feet of the men returning her to the condemned cell to wait for death.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” Dominic murmured. The sound of Peter’s desperate pleading echoed hollowly in Dominic’s ears until he couldn’t stand it any longer. With little choice on how best to help him, Dominic stalked across the room, drew back his fist, and felled him with one well-aimed blow.
Stunned silence settled over the room as Peter’s unconscious body was slowly lowered to the floor by Sebastian and the gaoler.
Dominic turned to Mr Simpson, his cold eyes laden with menace. “We will prove her innocence, and the men who hang her will be brought to justice for their ignorance.” His eyes met and held the gaoler’s for several moments in silent warning. With some satisfaction, he watched the gaoler grow pale and drop into his chair, clearly shaken.
“Let’s get him out of here,” Edward murmured, heaving Peter’s prone form over his shoulder and turning toward the door Sebastian held open. “He shouldn’t be here when he wakes up.”
Once outside the office, they watched the heavy cell door close at the far end of the corridor. Its heavy thud rang solemnly through the silence. A dank, musty smell of stale air hung over them, heavily accentuated with urine, vomit and a plethora of unidentifiable smells that assailed the nostrils and churned the stomach.
“Sweet Jesus,” Sebastian muttered, shaking his head and studying the long line of cell doors. Although the wall esconces were lit, their meagre brightness did little to penetrate the gloom within the cavernous walls. It gave the building a fatalistic air that scarred the soul. He wondered if anyone ever made it out alive.
His respect for the woman who had returned to the condemned cell grew as he considered the last few moments. Despite her dire situation, she had sought to protect those around her, namely Peter, from any scandal that being associated with her would undoubtedly cause. Even Eliza hadn’t escaped her protection. He was humbled and awed by her strength and generosity in the face of such desolation.
“Wait,” Dominic ordered, frowning at Peter for several moments. “Peter’s going to want her back.” His eyes met and held those of his brothers. “In the morning, when it’s all over.”
“He can’t stay here to watch. Jemima doesn’t want him there. You saw what he was just like,” Edward reasoned. “Don’t think for one second that I’m stopping to watch.” He didn’t add that, if he was away from Havistock Hall for too long, Eliza would most probably set out after him to find out what was happening. He was eternally grateful she hadn’t been with them to witness that past half hour.
“We need to get him away from the area, and then make plans before he wakes up,” Sebastian added, moving toward the door. He had to get out of the fetid place before he threw up. The pervading sense of gloom was starting to fray his nerves. If he remained in the desolate hole any longer than absolutely necessary, he was going to start screaming himself.
“Hold on a minute,” Dominic snapped, returning to the office and throwing open the door without bothering to knock. He scowled at Mr Simp
son and the gaoler, who were deep in conversation. They froze at his intrusion, but made no move to call for the guards.
Closing the door behind him, Dominic met each man’s gaze in turn and made his demands. Moments later he swept from the office, slamming the door behind him. He winced as the sound echoed hollowly down the empty corridor, and mumbled an apology at the faces that gazed helplessly out of the cells as he passed.
Within minutes they were stepping out into the fresh air of the prisoners’ yard, the heavy thud of the gaol door echoing threateningly in their ears as it was slammed behind them, leaving them to face the long walk across the prisoners’ yard alone. To the left of the path lay nine empty graves, ready and waiting for the new arrivals. Dominic cursed and quickened his stride, flicking Peter a glance to make sure he was still unconscious and wouldn’t witness such a macabre scene.
On their arrival at the gaol a lifetime earlier, it had been pitch black. They had stood before the heavy wooden doors waiting for their ring of the bell to be answered, not knowing what to expect. Having never been inside a gaol before, they had been lost in their own thoughts, mentally planning the few desperate options available to them.
With only the gaoler’s torch to light the way, they hadn’t seen the open graves.
Now, as the first stain of sunlight began to shimmer on the horizon, the haunting sight of the empty pits was almost painful to see, especially knowing that one of them was meant to contain the remains of the woman who had touched all of their hearts with her bravery in the face of such overwhelming adversity.
Edward quickened his stride and, moments later, draped Peter unceremoniously over his horse. His breath fogged in the cool morning air, and he took a moment to steady himself as he breathed the crisp air deep into his aching lungs, the stench of the gaol still heavy in his nostrils. He ached to have a bath, to scrub himself clean and rid himself of the horror of the hellish pit of inhumanity, but he knew that it wouldn’t be enough.
“We need to secure a cart,” Dominic announced, mounting his horse and turning toward his brothers. “I’ll stay if you want, and wait at the back of the gaol for-” his voice hitched as he considered his next words carefully.
He had to make sure nothing went wrong when it was over. The consequences were just too dire; if they were late, she would be quick-limed and buried before they could retrieve her.
“When she is-” he paused and sucked in a breath, unable to voice the words aloud. “When she is cut down, she will be taken into the holding area at the side of the gaol, away from prying eyes. It’s there that they take the death masks. When they are done, they will take the bodies around to the graves and cover them in quick-lime before they are buried. We only have a short amount of time to get her back before they move the bodies. The quicker they are put in the ground, apparently, the quicker they can move on and forget.”
His voice was contemptuous as he considered the brutality of the judicial system, and the unfairness of it if you were innocent. Although he initially had doubts about Jemima’s innocence, after the night’s events, he knew with certainty that she had done nothing wrong other than be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“So do you want to stay and watch her die?” Sebastian’s voice was incredulous as he studied his older brother. There were lines on his face that Sebastian could have sworn weren’t there earlier that day, or was that yesterday? He couldn’t be sure. He felt as though he had been in the hellhole for a lifetime.
Dawn was already fast approaching and, if they didn’t move soon, they would be hemmed in by the public who were already arriving to get the best views to see the spectacle.
“Gruesome bastards,” Edward spat, shooting a look of contempt at two women who were carrying their knitting and a basket of food.
“Of course not,” Dominic snapped. “I’m just saying that one of us has to stay here with a cart to collect her afterwards. I’ll do it.”
“No,” Edward shook his head and threw Dominic a look of dread. “I’ll do it. It’s the least I can do for Eliza. You are right; nothing can go wrong. It’s too important.”
As they rode away from the gaol, they quietly came to the agreement that they would take Peter to a tavern on the outskirts of the town while he was still unconscious, far enough away that - even if he rode flat-out - he would not be able to get back in time to see the woman he loved swing from the gallows. Meanwhile, Edward would secure a horse and cart, and the necessary items they would need to move a body to Havistock Hall without being a public spectacle and would go to the gaol to wait at the back doors. When it was over, and her body was released by the authorities, they would take her to Havistock Hall via the Golden Fleece where Sebastian and Dominic would be waiting with an undoubtedly bitter and very angry Peter.
Jemima spent that same hour in a haze of dejected misery so stark, so hopeless, that she wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. She never spoke, despite the quiet whispers demanding to know what the gaoler had wanted, and instead curled up tightly in a futile attempt to close the world out.