Saving Grace (The Grace Series Book 2) (24 page)

“Yes.”

“During the time you courted Jessica Emerson, prior to your marriage, did Luther Emerson ever mention the Sons to you?”

“No.”

“How long after your marriage to Jessica Emerson did it take for Luther Emerson to mention the Sons to you?”

“Two weeks.”

“In your opinion, Major, did marrying Jessica Emerson assist with your assignment?”

“Yes.”

“Major, at the time you proposed marriage to Miss Emerson, were you in love with her?” Peter Rutherford asked.

The courtroom was so deadly quiet, a pin falling to the floor could have been heard. Jessica couldn’t breathe as she waited for the major’s response. He was still staring at the table leg. His eyes didn’t move. They didn’t even flicker.

“No,” he said.

Instantly the hushed whispers began again, and they were louder this time. They rang in Jessica ears and made her head spin. Trent’s grip on her hand tightened. Her marriage was a sham. The child they created, had he lived, would have been a bastard. But worse, Jonathan Kinsley, or Julien Grace, whatever his name was, didn’t even want her. He’d pretended to marry her only because his job required it. All the kind things he’d said to her, all the compliments he’d paid, all the gifts he’d given, all the time he’d spent with her, were done solely to manipulate her, and to manipulate her father. Countless times over the last nine months he’d proclaimed his love, including the day he was wounded. Every single one of them had been a lie!

The judge banged his gavel. “Silence!”

Jessica could feel the people in the courtroom staring at her. Some were merely curious, others were pitying, but most were accusatory. People were cruel. Reputation meant everything. The rumors would spread until everyone in the state of Tennessee knew she’d been intimate with a man who wasn’t her husband. Any chance for her to find love with another, or to have a family of her own, had just been destroyed.

Her heart wrenched painfully in her chest. She felt so incredibly small and ashamed, so implausibly violated and used. For what he’d done to her, she should hate this man, Julien Grace. She should hate him with everything within herself.

“The witness is excused,” the judge said.

The major’s head fell back against the chair and his eyes closed. The general rose and moved to stand in front of him. “Okay, Jonny, you did well,” he said. “We can go now.”

“It’s done?” the major whispered.

“Yes, it’s done,” the general confirmed. He gestured to the guard who had pushed the wheelchair into the room. The uniformed man was already making his way up the courtroom aisle.

Jessica sat there holding tightly to Trent’s hand, watching the major as the guard began wheeling him from the room. They had not gone more than a few feet, when the major rolled his head against the back of the chair and opened his eyes.

The entire time he testified he hadn’t looked at Jessica once. Now, he looked at her as though he’d known all along exactly where she was. He stared at her, turning his head to keep their eye contact while the guard wheeled him away.

He drew in a breath and as he exhaled, he whispered, “Forgive me.”

Jessica could feel the general’s hateful glare boring into her. His expression had more evil in it than ever before. Terrified, she cowered behind Trent. Much to her sheer relief, the general’s attention was abruptly redirected.

“I hope the son of a bitch rots!” Arnold Whistler shouted from where he stood. As the wheelchair passed the defendants’ table, Arnold Whistler made a rough sound in his throat, drawing spit, and he blew it toward the major. Immediately guards came to restrain him.

The spittle didn’t hit the major. It hit the general, who stopped dead in his tracks. He turned his black-eyed glower on Arnold Whistler. His comments were directed to the guards, but his eyes never wavered from Arnold Whistler’s face. “Sergeant, shackle this man’s hands and feet and put him in solitary. He will stay there when court is not in session for the remainder of this trial.”

Casually, still not removing his eyes from Arnold Whistler, the general took the blood-stained handkerchief he used on the major out of his pocket and wiped the spittle from his sleeve. He continued that heated stare until Arnold Whistler flinched. Only then did he turn on his heel and follow the wheelchair out of the room.

The man with the curly brown hair the general had been looking at earlier was already gone.

The trial continued for three days, at the end of which verdicts were rendered and sentences imposed. All of the defendants, with the exception of Luther Emerson, were found guilty. Due to the publicity of the trial and the severity of the punishments given, the Nashville courthouse was packed, not just in the courtroom itself, but in the hallways as well. Some were pleased with what occurred, but not surprisingly, many were not.

Through the crowd it was difficult for General Seth McLean to stay close behind the man he was following. Still, his eyes never veered from that mop of curly hair. As they neared the entrance to the building, Seth increased his pace, brushing past anyone who had the misfortune of being in his way.

As soon as he caught up with his target, he said, “It’s been a while, Stonington.”

The man glanced at him and nodded in acknowledgment, but he didn’t stop moving.

Seth kept pace. “We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“I disagree.”

They were through the doors. Stonington ran down the courthouse steps. Next to him, Seth didn’t falter.

“Leave me alone, McLean,” Stonington said coldly.

“I can’t do that,” Seth said.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded.

“Disband the Sons.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stonington scoffed.

“Yes, you do. Agree to disband the Sons or I will arrest you,” Seth threatened.

“I don’t know anything about the Sons. I don’t have anything to do with them.”

“Is that so? Why did you come to the trial every day? Why did you stay for sentencing?” Seth asked curtly.

“I was curious. Most of the people in there were,” Stonington said defensively.

“I don’t believe you. I think you wanted to know what would happen to your men. I remember you well,
Stoney
. I remember what the loyalty of your men meant to you. And your loyalty to them.”

“I have nothing to do with the Sons,” Stonington repeated.

“Major Grace told me otherwise.”

“Major Grace knows nothing. He’s never seen me.”

“Major Grace is one of the best field operatives in my command,” Seth said. “He has implicated people many times based upon their voice alone. There is no question in my mind his testimony will be enough to put you away.”

Stonington halted on the sidewalk and turned to face Seth. “If that’s true, why didn’t you arrest me already?” he asked.

“Major Grace told me you disguised yourself among your own men because you suspected your authority was being breeched, and you wanted to put a stop to it,” Seth told him.

“If I was in charge—and I’m not admitting I was, but let’s just pretend for a moment I was—regardless of what my men were doing against my wishes, I would still be responsible,” he said.

Seth’s eyes narrowed. During the war, Colonel Nathanial Stonington reported to him. Seth remembered him well.

“Let’s just say I share your views on loyalty,” Seth said.

* * *

Jessica didn’t return to the courthouse for the remainder of the trial. Even though she wanted to be there for her father, she couldn’t find the courage to face the crowds. Instead, she stayed hidden in the hotel room, waiting anxiously for Trent’s return each afternoon, so he could fill her in on what happened.

Trent said the other witnesses called to the stand confirmed Major Julien Grace’s testimony. These witness included men from the Klan. According to Trent, all of them readily implicated the defendants. At one point, Trent commented, “There was a time I believed in the kinship of the Klan. I believed we were dedicated to each other. But all those men care about is themselves. None of them even considered how what they said will affect the futures of people they refer to as brothers. I am so glad I got out. I am so glad you helped me see things clearly, Jessie.”

On the last day, Luther was unbound and allowed to leave the courthouse with Trent. The first thing he did upon entering the hotel room was embrace Jessica. He held her for a long time. When finally he let go, he said, “I’m so sorry. I have been such a foolish old man. I have done so many, many awful things. I hope you will forgive me.” The remorse in his tone caused a lump to form in Jessica’s throat.

They stayed in Nashville for only as long as it took Trent to retrieve their buggy and have their belongings loaded. During the drive back to Mount Joy, Luther repeatedly assured Jessica he would never turn her out. He said what happened to her was his fault. He was the one who pushed her to marry
that man
. All he’d been able to see were Jon Kinsley’s riches. They knew now, of course, the wealth was just another part of the ruse. Bent Oak Manor belonged to the general, whom they collectively agreed they didn’t like.

The rest of what was said about Major Julien Grace was brief. Jessica could see the ‘I told you so’ in Trent’s expression, but he didn’t voice the words out loud. For that, she was grateful.

Her father said, “If that man ever comes near you again, I will kill him with my bare hands!”

Jessica appreciated her father’s protective assurance, but she wished he would have used different words. There had already been entirely too much killing.

Smiling sadly, she said, “I’m sure I will never see him again.”

“That’s for the best,” Trent murmured.

Jessica agreed, but somehow, for some reason, inside she was aching.

* * *

General Seth McLean rode along, confined inside the coach, his body jarring left and right as the wheels turned over ruts in the road. He hated coaches, much preferring to ride, but this day he didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t happy about what he was going to do, but he was doing it anyway. It was not fair that he would lose a man he’d known for so many years, a man he revered so highly. A man who, in those rare instances in his life Seth allowed sentiment to get the better of him, he’d wished—even pretended once—was his own son. If he’d ever had a son…

“Damn it all to Hell!” Seth cursed aloud. No one was with him in the coach. No one would hear him, so what did it matter?

Julien had asked him to do this and he couldn’t say no. He didn’t agree with Julien, but he didn’t agree with a lot of things Julien did. If Julien had any flaws, they were that he was too damn kind, too damn moral, and too goddamned generous. Yet, Seth couldn’t forget if Julien didn’t have those flaws, he, himself, wouldn’t be alive today.

He was reminded of the day, before all of this began, when plans for the initiative to stop the resurged faction of the Klan were in their infancy. Julien came to see him, as ordered, and alone in his office in Washington, the two of them discussed the strategy. And more specifically, the impact it would have on one particular woman.

Seth remembered how Julien, seated in the chair opposite his desk, looked at him as if he thought Seth had lost his mind. He said, “This is insane!”

Seth shrugged. “On the contrary. It’s brilliant!”

Julien stood abruptly and walked over to stand in front of the window. He appeared to be staring out of it, but Seth knew he wasn’t looking at the scenery—the dome of the Capitol building, surrounded by the blue haze of the sky.

“Will you do it?” Seth asked.

“No, I won’t.”

Seth merely smiled, easily recognizing the lack of conviction in Julien’s negative response. “What have you got to lose? Really, think about it. You’re young. You’re healthy. When all of this is over, you’ll never have to see the girl again.” He watched Julien roll his eyes, and added, “Not that I’m trying to appeal to your baser instincts, but rumor has it she is quite comely. Just think of the fun you can have while she thinks you’re married. Now that’s something I’m sure you won’t mind taking part in. What a great game—”

Julien interrupted him harshly. “That’s just it, Seth. This is not a game!” Catching himself, he forged on more quietly, “You can’t play with people’s lives like this. She’s young, and beautiful, as you’ve pointed out, and she has her whole life ahead of her. This will ruin her. This will destroy whatever chance for a future she has.”

“She is also rumored to be arrogant,” Seth argued. “Perhaps she deserves a set down.”

“I don’t give a damn, Seth. The rest of this plan is bad enough. I won’t do it,” Julien said firmly.

“Sacrifices have to be made, even if it involves innocent people. You worry about the reputation of one young girl, when we’re talking about the lives of hundreds. Hundreds who will be abused, tortured, murdered…”

Julien shook his head and turned back toward the window. He took a long draught from the glass in his hand.

“Don’t force me to order you to do this,” Seth said.

“I don’t have a choice? Is that what you’re telling me? You’ve concocted this ridiculous scheme and you expect me to carry it out without even considering my objections?” Julien spat.

Seth had considered Julien’s many objections. Jessica Emerson wasn’t the only one. He’d been especially vehement that the wives and children of Frederick Washington’s darkies—Herlin and Ditter—not be involved. Julien didn’t want to bring women and children into the dangerous environment.

Seth had argued with him. As long as the wives and children remained on the grounds of Bent Oak Manor, they would be safe. Having wives and children along would remove any doubts, should they surface, over the darkies’s guises. With the women and children present, everyone’s cover would be more secure, including Julien’s.

Seth told him, “I’ve listened to you. I always do. You know how much I value your opinion. But I am in command of this project and I can’t afford to see it fail.” And then he said, “How does the name Jonathan Kinsley sound to you?”

That was a year ago.

Of course, Seth didn’t think much of Jessica Emerson. There was no denying she was a beautiful chit, but she was a mouse, too quiet and timid for his taste. She was so easy to scare, Seth almost enjoyed doing it. He didn’t understand Julien’s conviction toward her. He could only assume the depth of Julien’s pity was beyond anything he could imagine. He recalled the first time he’d seen her, standing beside Julien’s bed at Bent Oak Manor. She’d been wrinkled, her hair askew, with circles under her eyes. In the courtroom, her hair was perfectly coiffed, and the dress she wore, although not of great quality, was elegant enough. He wondered if there really was more to her than outwardly appeared. Julien had told him there was. Time and time again he’d spoken of how vehemently she’d fought for the servants.

What if all of her bashful behavior was a ruse? What if she was vengeful like he was? If he were in her shoes, retribution would be his sole focus right now. For Julien’s sake, Seth could only hope she didn’t have a vindictive mind like his.

It was early afternoon by the time his coach arrived at the Emerson farm. Seth glanced out the window at the modest, two-story house. Then he climbed out, strode to the door and pounded on it. He heard the rapid clack of footsteps inside, so he knew someone was coming to answer. The door opened a mere crack.

“You’re not welcome here, General,” Trent Emerson spat, and he slammed the door shut.

Seth pounded on it again. “Open the door, Mr. Emerson, or I will break it down!”

* * *

Jessica looked from Trent to her father and back again. They’d been sharing the midday meal when they heard the coach outside. Through the window they’d watched the vile General Seth McLean come to their door. She was glad Trent had slammed it in his face.

But then her father hemmed, “We might as well hear what he has to say. Not much worse can happen to us.”

Trent shook his head in protest, but before he could say more, Luther ordered, “Trent, open the door! We can’t afford a new one.”

Trent did as he was told, but he wasn’t happy. To the general, he said, “Haven’t you people done enough to this family? What more could you possibly want from us?”

“I need to have a private word with Miss Emerson,” the general said.

“Is he dead?” Trent retorted.

The general’s eyes narrowed. “Be careful, Mr. Emerson!” Then he rudely pushed past her brother, and came right into their house. His terrible black stare was aimed at Jessica.

“Miss Emerson,” he said. “I must speak to you. You will come outside with me.”

“Over my dead body!” her father moved between them. “Whatever it is you have to say to my daughter, you will say right here. She’s been through enough. You people have wrecked her life. I will not have you upsetting her anymore!”

The general avoided Luther by stepping around him. He put himself so close to Jessica, there wasn’t enough room for even slim Trent to slip between them. Her instinctual retreat backed her into the wall. She had to crane her neck to see his face.

“Miss Emerson, I’m sure this situation has been difficult, but I insist on having a word with you. It will only take a moment.”

Jessica was unable to meet his piercing onyx eyes. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Miss Emerson, this matter is highly important,” the general said.