“So, although we knew Jemima wasn’t going to be hanged, we had to go through the motions, as it were. We couldn’t risk that anyone would tell Rogan it was all a lie. We do know that Scraggan is being informed that you were publicly hanged, and will consider he has won.”
Dominic frowned and sat forward in his chair, thinking over the events of the night carefully.
“So how did you know we were going to turn up?” He demanded, remembering Hugo’s watchful presence in the corner of Simpson’s office.
“We didn’t,” Hugo replied ruefully. “We had to think on our feet. As soon as Jemima was placed in the condemned cell, I brought Mr Simpson up to date about Scraggan and his threat to Jemima and her sister. He was fully aware that he would be in serious trouble if he allowed Jemima to be hanged. The court papers have been destroyed, and all entries into the records removed. There is no trace of Jemima having been tried and found guilty of anything now, I assure you,” Hugo added, hoping it would buy him some reward.
“On the morning of the executions, you were in the corridor beside me, waiting with me, and you never said a word,” Jemima accused, reluctantly allowing her memories of that dreadful morning to come forth. Gratefully, she clasped the hand Peter held out to her, accepting his reassuring presence beside her.
“We had to wait until the right moment,” Hugo replied, shuffling uncomfortably under the collective glare of the group. “As I have said, the men with you were all guilty of serious crimes that would have sent them to the gallows anyway. We couldn’t allow them to go free, and risk them returning to Scraggan because they had nowhere else to go.”
“You made me wait until last,” Jemima frowned, thinking of the way he made her go to the back of the group, thinking at the time that it was because she would draw the most attention.
“Because we had to wait until the men had been hanged. I had Jamie outside of the door under strict instructions not to let you out of the building. He had already spoken to the hangman who himself was under strict instructions not to hang any woman unless he was given a nod by Jamie.”
“But you hanged a woman,” Edward announced, thinking back to that gruesome morning with a shudder. “I watched her being dragged to the gallows.”
“That was another prisoner from Leicester gaol who had been tried and found guilty of murdering her four children. She was condemned, and due to be hanged the following week at Leicester. We just brought her execution forward.”
At Jemima’s look of horror, Hugo turned sympathetic eyes toward her. “I’m sorry, Jemima, I didn’t mean to upset you, but this woman had murdered children. Her husband and family had denounced all association to her. She really had nobody who was bothered when she was hanged, and there certainly wasn’t anyone prepared to attend the hanging to hang on her legs and ease her way.”
“She murdered children?” Jemima gasped, feeling her initial sympathy for the woman begin to wane.
At Hugo’s nod, she slowly shook her head, wondering at the cruelty of humanity.
“Then she deserved to die,” Peter muttered, pressing a kiss to the back of Jemima’s hand. Despite everything she had been through, she still had the capacity to feel compassion toward her fellow beings, and that touched him deeply. She truly was a remarkable woman.
“She was chosen because she was condemned but she also looked like Jemima,” Hugo added, thinking of the slightly smaller woman who replaced her.
“You gave me something to knock me out,” Jemima murmured, thinking of the strange smell moments before she blacked out.
Hugo nodded, a look of apology on his face. “We gave you ether to knock you out. Unfortunately, with only me in the corridor, you inhaled a bit too much, which is why you were out for so long, and so deeply. I was trying not to inhale the stuff myself, and left the wretched cloth out for too long. It worked on you, too well, but it also very nearly rendered me unconscious too!” he added, not minding in the least that everyone knew of his near disaster.
“As I have said, there were safety precautions in place to make sure you weren’t hanged. Another man was waiting in a side room, and was watching for you to slump to the floor. He dragged you into the side room, and out of sight, at the same time that Mr Simpson led the other woman, already wearing an executioner’s hood, out into the corridor. As instructed, the woman was handed to the hangman by Mr Simpson, and Jamie nodded his confirmation that the hangman could go ahead. It all went according to plan.”
“So how did you arrange the bodies to make sure that Jemima wasn’t quick-limed?” Edward asked, his own breakfast sitting heavily in his stomach at the macabre nature of the conversation. He was suddenly very glad Eliza wasn’t there to listen to it.
“Because we kept Jemima in the side room while the woman was hanged. Unlike the men, when the woman was dead, she was cut down and brought back into the gaol, ostensibly to keep her body away from prying eyes. She was left in the side room, while Jemima was taken outside.” He shot Edward a warning glare, cautioning him not to betray the fact that, for a short while, Jemima had had to lie beside the dead bodies of those who had been executed.
“It was a bit of a surprise when Edward wanted to take the body, but seemed a reasonable request and a quicker way of getting her out of there. I had to come here anyway,” he added, shooting a smile at Dominic.
“It does explain why you were several days late,” Dominic muttered, somewhat mollified that Hugo hadn’t been as useless as he had thought. “You have been busy.”
“Very,” Hugo replied, sitting back in his chair and relaxing for a moment. From the thoughtful frowns of the assembled group, they were still absorbing his explanation, but at least none of them appeared angry now.
For the time being at least, Hugo thought, shifting uncomfort
ably in his seat as he studied Jemima for several moments.
“Thank you,” Jemima murmured meeting his gaze head-on.
“Why are you thanking him?” Peter demanded, still battling with the grief that refused to leave him. “We’ve been through hell because of the subterfuge.”
“I know,” Jemima replied softly, thinking of Peter’s distraught display of denial as she left Mr Simpson’s office. “But, having been in that gaol, I know there was simply no other way they could ensure I survived. Scraggan would have watched, or at least had someone watching,” she paused as Hugo nodded slowly. “By letting Scraggan believe I was dead, I now have the advantage.”
Hugo nodded in silent agreement.
Peter paused, reluctant to let go of his anger entirely. He wanted someone to blame for the sheer hell he had been through. He wanted someone to punch, someone to shout at. He felt almost cheated at being expected to simply accept that the devastation had been necessary, and move on. A small part of him didn’t think he would ever accept what had happened.