Without Sin (28 page)

‘My client, altruistic and kindly, takes her on trial. On trial, mark you. But the young woman rapidly proves her worth. She is lively, warm-hearted, has a natural empathy with the
customers and she is willing to do anything that is asked of her.’

There was a loud guffaw from a man standing at the back of the public gallery. ‘I bet she is!’ He was quickly shushed by those around him. Ignoring the interruption with a look of
contempt, Mr Henderson continued, ‘But this young woman’s strong instinct to be independent, not to be a burden on the parish any longer than she must, leads her to seek shelter at
night in the shop.’ Cleverly, the solicitor glossed over Meg’s reason for leaving the workhouse. ‘When he finds out, her kindly employer, far from dismissing her as his
fiancée demanded he should, takes this girl to his home and gives her shelter. In return for his kindness, his trust in her, the young woman brings comfort and affection into his life. His
world is suddenly a sunnier place and he falls hopelessly in love with her. But his love is not hopeless for, to his great surprise and delight, the young woman returns his affection.’

Mr Henderson stood for a moment shaking his head sadly. ‘But now, of course, we come to the crux of the matter and why we find ourselves here in this courtroom today. The engagement that
we are led to believe existed between the plaintiff and my client.’

At this there was an explosive snort of rage from Clara and nervous laughter from the public gallery. Again Meg noticed Mr Snape patting Clara’s hand to quieten her.

‘The truth of the matter is, your honour’ – Mr Henderson rested on his knuckles on the table in front of him, leaning towards the judge and looking directly at him as his
sonorous voice echoed round the room – ‘that it was, in fact, the plaintiff who broke off the so-called engagement when my client refused to accede to her wishes. Wishes, your honour,
which included the dismissal of the young woman from both his home and from his place of business. The plaintiff’ – he now waved his hand dramatically in the direction of Clara Finch
– ‘cared nothing for the welfare of this young woman. Where she could have helped and supported her betrothed in giving the poor girl a chance in life, the plaintiff was vindictive and
jealous. She resorted to emotional blackmail. Her very words, your honour, were—’ Here he paused dramatically and held up a piece of paper from which he read, “ ‘If you do
not dismiss the girl, Percy, then our engagement is at an end.” ’

He threw the paper down on the table in disgust. ‘Your honour, I appreciate the difficulty facing you—’

‘Thank you for your concern, Mr Henderson,’ the judge remarked dryly. ‘I am sure I shall rise to the occasion.’ He allowed himself a small smile and glanced over the top
of his spectacles towards the gallery. He was rewarded by laughter and someone even dared to clap.

‘Quite so, your honour, but if I may be permitted to stress the point, it was the
plaintiff
and not the defendant who terminated their betrothal because he would not obey her.
Now’ – he straightened up and smiled benignly – ‘if I am not mistaken, the vows contained in the marriage service do contain the word “obey”. But am I not right
in thinking that this particular vow is made, not by the man, but by the woman, who promises to “love, honour and obey”?’ Mr Henderson paused again as if waiting for someone,
anyone, to contradict him. When no one did, he added in silky tones, ‘Not a very auspicious start to married life between the plaintiff and the defendant, eh?

‘And one last point, your honour—’

The judge glanced at the huge clock on the back wall of the public gallery. ‘Do you anticipate this taking very long, Mr Henderson?’

‘No, your honour, just a few moments more.’

‘Very well,’ the judge said resignedly and settled back in his chair, his fingers linked in front of him.

‘And my last point is this. My client is an honourable man – the sort of man who would have sacrificed his own happiness for the sake of keeping his word and his promises. But would
it not have been the act of a
dishonourable
man to have continued in this relationship, to have gone through with marriage to a woman he no longer loved, purely for the sake of keeping his
word?
When all the time he would have been in love with another
. Some might say he’s a fool. A fool to throw away all that marriage to the plaintiff might have brought him.’ Mr
Henderson ticked the items off on his fingers. ‘A fine house to live in, ownership of his business premises, which, we have heard, was to form part of the marriage settlement. And, last but
not least, no doubt he could look forward to a step up the ladder in the social life of this community. He gave up all that, your honour’ – his tone was husky with emotion as he
gestured towards Clara and then let his arm continue in a sweep until it came to rest pointing in Meg’s direction – ‘to follow his heart.’

That evening Jake read the newspaper avidly, where the case was being reported in detail.

‘Look,’ he burst out. ‘Just look what they’re saying about her. It’s not true! Someone ought to tell them—’

‘Oh aye, and what would you tell ’em, eh?’ Mabel Smallwood said grimly. ‘That she’s whiter than white, ’cos let me tell you if she’s anything like her
father – and her mother by all accounts – then she isn’t.’

Jake stared at her. Then his manner softened a little. Craftily, he said, ‘What was she like before her father – went off?’

Mrs Smallwood sniffed and admitted grudgingly, ‘All right, I suppose, though she was always a bit of a flirt. Eyeing all the lads and chatting to them.’

‘But was there any real harm in her?’

‘She was only a lass when she was here. She’s grown up a bit since then.’

‘She had to, didn’t she?’ Jake was being greatly daring, defying his mistress in such a way.

Mrs Smallwood glared at him and then dropped her gaze. ‘Aye well, you could be right. But we couldn’t keep the family on here. Not after . . .’ She fell silent.

‘I know,’ Jake said, gently now. ‘I do understand.’

She looked at him and said slowly, ‘For a young ’un, you’re a very understanding sort of lad.’ Then, unusually, she smiled at him. ‘But just you be careful with
that little madam. She’s a heartbreaker, that one.’

Jake turned away. He didn’t answer her, but what he could have said was:
Thanks for the warning, missis, but it’s too late. Meg’s already broken mi heart
.

‘I suppose you’ll be wanting time off to go to the court tomorrow to hear the verdict?’ When he made no response, she answered herself, flapping her hands at him. ‘Oh, go
on with you, then. Though what the mester’ll say, I daren’t think.’

Mr Smallwood said nothing. Like his wife, he had taken to the young lad. They both liked Ron and his family, but they were a family unit, complete in themselves. Jake was alone in the world and
the couple – though they would never have admitted it, not even to each other – were missing their daughter. The following morning, George Smallwood appeared in the yard dressed in his
going-to-town suit. Without preamble he said bluntly, ‘The missis reckons you want to go into the courthouse today. That right?’

‘I . . .’ Jake began hesitantly and then decided to be bold. ‘Yes, I do, sir. But only if I can get mi work done first. I wouldn’t go otherwise.’

‘You’ll not get it all done afore you go, else you’ll miss all the excitement.’ The tall, rotund figure beamed down at him. ‘I’ve a mind to go myself. Bonfire
night last night and the verdict today. Reckon there could be a few fireworks in that courtroom if the verdict goes the wrong way. I’ve known Percy Rodwell all his life and his father before
him. A quieter, more docile fellow you couldn’t wish to meet. I just can’t believe he’s in the middle of such scandalous goings on.’ He stroked his chin. ‘And as for
that lass . . .’

Jake waited, holding his breath, willing the man not to say anything unkind about Meg because, if he did, then Jake might just forget himself and likely lose his job.

‘As for that lass, she was a pert little thing when she worked for us, but I don’t believe all the things they’re saying about her in the papers.’

‘No,’ Jake told him solemnly. ‘Neither do I.’

‘Right then, run along home and put your better clothes on.’

‘I – er – haven’t got any other clothes than these.’

‘What?’ The farmer looked scandalized. ‘Is that so?’ When Jake nodded, George murmured, ‘Oh aye, I was forgetting where you’d come from, lad. That old
skin-flint Pendleton wouldn’t give you a decent suit to your back, I’ll be bound.’ He put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. ‘Tell you what, m’lad. When Percy
Rodwell’s back in his shop we’ll have you kitted out with a new suit, eh? How about that then?’

Jake managed to summon a smile and thank him politely. He didn’t want to tell his employer that he had vowed never to set foot in the shop again. Not while Meg was still there.

Unaware of the young man’s dilemma, George boomed, ‘Let’s be off then. Get the pony and trap harnessed, Jake lad, and we’ll be off. Don’t want to miss the fun,
eh?’

The fun, as George called it, had already started by the time they reached the courthouse. All the seats were taken in the public gallery and George and Jake were obliged to
stand just inside the door, squeezed in at the back.

‘Not a minute too soon,’ George muttered. ‘They’ve stopped anyone else coming in now.’ Jake heard him with half an ear. He was craning his neck to catch sight of
Meg. And then he saw her, sitting in the middle of the front row of the public gallery. But he could not see her face.

They had scarcely got settled before the judge came in and the proceedings began. It seemed that only the prosecution wished to call any witnesses and there was only one: Mr Theobald Finch.

‘Why won’t you let me speak up for you, Percy?’ Meg had begged him. ‘I heard her say it. I was there. She threatened to break off the engagement if you didn’t sack
me.’

‘I don’t want you involved, Meg dear.’ Percy was firm. ‘And besides, I’m not sure whether a wife is allowed to testify on her husband’s behalf.’ He
patted her hand. ‘You just sit in the gallery – quietly, mind. Mr Henderson says you could jeopardize whatever chance I have got if you anger the judge.’

Meg was contrite. ‘Yes, I know. I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday. If I could apologize to the judge, I would. I was just so angry at all the lies that horrible Mr Snape was
telling about you.’

‘Well, that’s what the prosecution and defence is all about. Though how the judge is going to make up his mind through it all, I don’t know. Mr Henderson isn’t exactly
telling the plain, unvarnished truth either, now is he? He’s angling things the way he wants them to look.’

Despite the seriousness of their situation, Meg giggled. ‘No, he’s very clever, isn’t he? But surely the judge can see by just looking at Miss Finch that she’s a dried-up
old spinster, who’s just out for revenge?’

And now, in the courtroom once more, Meg, completely unaware of Jake’s presence a few paces behind her, was crossing her fingers and hoping that Mr Henderson’s cleverness would win
the day for Percy.

Theobald Finch gave his testimony precisely, clearly and, strangely, quite impartially. When responding to questions it was obvious that he was trying to be entirely truthful and would not allow
himself either to be led by Mr Snape or trapped by Mr Henderson.

‘My family has always found the Rodwells to be excellent tenants. I have nothing against the defendant in a business sense.’

Mr Snape was quick to leap in. ‘But you have in a personal sense, haven’t you, Mr Finch?’

Theobald cleared his throat and glanced briefly at the judge. ‘All I can say is that the engagement between Rodwell and my sister was a definite fact. Rodwell came and asked for my
permission and we held a party.’

When it came to Mr Henderson’s turn to cross-examine Theobald, he asked, ‘Why do you think it was that there was such a long delay between the couple becoming engaged and setting a
date for the wedding?’

Theobald shrugged. ‘I expect Rodwell felt unable to provide for my sister in the manner to which she had always been accustomed, as they say. I expect he was trying to get a bit more
capital together. Buy a better house, perhaps. I don’t really know. It was never discussed with me.’

‘Do you mean to tell us, Mr Finch . . .’ Mr Henderson glanced around the courtroom, surprise on his face. ‘Do you really mean to tell us that your sister never discussed these
matters with you?’

‘Ar-humph,’ Theobald shifted uncomfortably and ran his forefinger around his collar as if it was too tight. He was growing redder in the face with every minute. ‘Well, she
might have said something of the sort. That – that she didn’t like his poky little house.’

Laughter rippled around the court and, hearing it for the first time, Jake was startled.

‘Ah,’ said Mr Henderson, satisfied. ‘His poky little house, eh?’

‘But we offered for him to live with us – at the Hall – after their marriage.’

‘At the Hall? Really? And you also offered to give Mr Rodwell the deeds to the property where he conducts his tailoring business? Is that not so?’

‘It is so,’ Theobald replied.

‘Then why do you suppose – with all this on offer to him – that a date was never set?’

‘You tell me,’ Theobald shot back. ‘I don’t understand it myself.’

Mr Henderson leant forward on his knuckles as he said slowly and deliberately, his gaze boring into Theobald’s eyes, ‘Do you suppose it could possibly be because – even before
this young girl appeared on the scene – Mr Rodwell was unsure of his true feelings for the plaintiff? He was having doubts about committing himself to her –
for life
?’

‘Yes – no – I mean – I – er – um – suppose it’s – it’s possible.’ Poor Theobald was obliged to admit the fact and for a brief
moment, Meg felt quite sorry for him. ‘But then,’ he volunteered, regaining his composure, ‘he shouldn’t have got engaged to her, should he?’

‘No.’ Mr Henderson nodded solemnly. ‘I am obliged to agree with you there.’ He paused and Meg held her breath. Was Mr Henderson giving up? Whatever was he thinking of,
agreeing with Mr Finch?