Winston's glance slid to his attorney. Emma noticed him nod slightly. "It wasn't bribery. I merely offered to help her to re-establish herself as a member of society without him." Winston answered finally.
"But she left anyway."
"Yes."
"Hmm," Jonas muttered, as if he was speaking only to himself. "Strange that a loving daughter would leave her family if she cared about them that much ..."
"Your Honor," Mr. Ambrose interrupted, "I object to Mr. McCallum's insinuations."
"Sustained." The judge looked at Jonas. "Please restrict yourself to questions, Mr. McCallum, not editorials."
"My apologies, Your Honor." He crossed to the table and picked up the sheaf of letters. Choosing one, he read the signature. "Is this the minister of the church you and your family attend?"
"Yes."
"Is this the same church you bequeathed ten thousand dollars to?"
"Yes."
"I see." Picking up another letter, he read the name scrawled across the bottom. "And this?"
"Why, everyone knows who he is. He's a United States senator."
"You financially supported his campaign when he ran for office, didn't you?"
"That's right."
"And this," Jonas went on, taking yet another letter. The signature was smudged. "Who is this? Thomas? Thompson?"
"Nicholas Thompson. Dr. Nicholas Thompson. The president of Summers College."
"Is that the college with the Winston Howard Library?"
Winston seemed surprised Jonas would know about it. "Why ... yes, yes it is."
Jonas took a few steps away from Winston and smiled. "Tell me, Mr. Howard. Is there anyone who would say a good word about you that you haven't bought?"
Mr. Ambrose bounded out of his chair. "I object."
Jonas smiled in Emma's direction. "No further questions."
***
The morning wore on. Mr. Ambrose called on Mrs. Howard. She perched on the edge of the seat on the witness stand, a handkerchief in her hand. Her fingers absently plucked at the lace edging as the attorney asked basically the same questions of her that he'd asked of her husband.
Her responses echoed Winston's, yet Emma almost felt sorry for her by the time she was finished. Almost.
Jonas seemed to be a little more gentle with her, as well. "Mrs. Howard," he asked. "Do you really think you're capable of raising three young children."
She huffed, drawing herself up straighter. "Of course. We can afford to hire the best governesses to care for them."
"And what about schooling? Didn't your daughter attend a boarding school?"
"Yes. The Priscilla Merrifield School for Young Ladies. It's a wonderful school, very exclusive."
"So it would be good for Becky."
"Definitely."