Page 25 of Lady Maybe

Lord Shirwell returned ten minutes later and took his seat. He faced Hannah and began soberly, “Miss Rogers. You may tell us your version of events. I remind you that this is not a trial. I am hearing evidence to decide if there is a sufficient case against you to commit you to the county gaol until you can be tried at the assizes. Still, let me warn you that if I find you are dishonest, I will make it my personal vow to see you prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, your worship.” Hannah’s nerves quaked. Most of what had been said against her was true, although not the motives nor exaggerated maneuvers behind her actions. Even if she revealed the truth of her child’s father, they wouldn’t believe her, and would probably accuse her of lying again. Only Sir John himself could authoritatively acknowledge Daniel as his son. And he was not here. If only he were here!

What could she say in her defense? How tawdry and unbelievable it all sounded now.

Lord Shirwell consulted his notes, then looked up. “Miss Rogers, before you begin.” He gestured toward Lady Mayfield. “Look at this woman and tell me honestly, is she or is she not Lady Marianna Mayfield?”

Hannah glanced over. “She is.”

“And your name is?”

“Hannah Rogers.”

“And did you or did you not impersonate this woman?”

Had she? She had never wanted to be Marianna, no. But Lady Mayfield...?

“They thought I was Lady Mayfield.”

“But you did not correct them?”

“I tried.”

“Tried? Is it so hard to tell the truth? To say, ‘Excuse me, Dr. Parrish, but you have it wrong. I am not Lady Mayfield, I am only her companion’? Are you telling us that was impossible to do?”

Hannah ducked her head. “No, your worship.”

Lord Shirwell entwined his fingers on the desk. “Was it your intention to position yourself and your son as Sir John’s heirs should he die?”

“No, your worship.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I had no other way to return to Bath and rescue my son.”

“But you chose to leave him behind.”

“Only temporarily. He was being held by the matron of a corrupt maternity home. Though I didn’t know the true nature of the establishment when I left Danny under her care. I needed to find a situation not long after I delivered him. And one cannot do so with a child in arms.”

He frowned. “Has this any bearing on the current situation?”

“It does. For the matron said I could not have Danny back until I paid her exorbitant fees. Fees she’d raised over and over again after I’d agreed to her initial terms. I could not pay them. That’s why I returned to the Mayfields in Bath and asked for the allowance I’d previously earned there as lady’s companion, but had never collected. When Lady Mayfield asked me to travel to Devonshire with her as her companion, I thought I would stay with her just until I earned enough money, and then return for Danny.”

“That is not the way Lady Mayfield recounts the events. She said you came begging for a place. Are you calling her a liar?”

It was a trap, and how tempting a trap it was. If she began speaking ill of her former mistress, the magistrate would of course defend the lady of his own class. It never went well for anyone who spoke against her master or mistress.

Hannah said carefully, “I sit in judgment of no one, your worship. Perhaps she and I saw the arrangement differently.”

His eyes glinted. “Lady Mayfield is right, you are cunning.”

She shook her head. “No, your worship. I am only a mother, who did what she had to do to rescue her son. Did I do wrong? Yes. But did I intend to take more money from Sir John, for either myself or my son? No. I did not.”

“I will decide who did wrong, Miss Rogers. That is why we are here, after all.” He glanced again at his notes, then said, “If this sorry tale is true, why did you not end the ruse when you were reunited with your child? Why return to Clifton House at all?”

Hannah nodded. It was a logical question. “I thought about it, your worship. But Edgar Parrish was so concerned about me, it felt ungrateful ... wrong ... to refuse to return with him. How they all would have worried. Besides that, my arm had been broken in the crash. I could not very well find another situation until it mended. How was I to provide for Danny on my own? So I returned to Clifton, thinking I would stay until I had the full use of both arms and then I would try to find employment somewhere in Devonshire.” She self-consciously cradled her arm. “Dr. Parrish removed the bandages only yesterday.”

“So, you do not even deny that you allowed these good people to believe you were Lady Mayfield.”

“I cannot deny it. Though my reasons—”

“Reasons? What care I for your reasons? Can reasons excuse deceit? Theft? Fraud?”

Hannah tried to hold his burning gaze, but she did not succeed for long. He was vehemently set against her, thanks to Marianna. Thanks to the truth. And he was right. She had done wrong. Knowingly committed fraud. God may look at the heart, but the law cared little.

He gestured toward his clerk for some document. “I have heard enough. There is clearly enough evidence to commit Miss Rogers to the county gaol at Exeter to await trial.” He dipped a quill and signed the paper with a flourish.

Dr. Parrish sputtered, “But—Miss Rogers has a child! Surely there is no cause to separate mother and child for such a period.”

“There is more than sufficient cause, Dr. Parrish.” He fixed the doctor with a menacing glare. “And I am the only judge of that here today.”

Hannah thought she would be sick. Everything she had done to try to protect Danny ... and now she would sit in prison and he would be taken from her. Would the court even allow Mrs. Turrill to keep him? And even if Mrs. Turrill were willing, could the woman care for Danny and support herself? Not to mention Becky?

Hannah was back to where they had started. Her hands tied. Danny out of reach. What if Becky ran off with him again? She recalled the image of Becky huddled over him in a Bath alleyway and shivered. Oh, God in heaven, have mercy! Whatever happens to me, please help Danny. Please watch over my son.... Tears streamed down her face.

The magistrate spoke quietly with his clerk, giving him some instructions. The clerk, in turn, wrote something in his register.

While they were occupied, Hannah looked at Marianna, hoping to see a crack in her icy countenance. “Why?” she whispered. “Is it not enough to send me away in shame? Why are you determined to destroy me?”

Marianna lifted her chin. “You were my companion. You were supposed to stand by me, remain loyal, no matter what. That you of all people should betray me...?” Her dark eyes sparked with ire.

Hannah shook her head. “I did nothing to you. I took nothing from you—nothing you wanted. But you will take everything from me?”

The magistrate gathered up his papers and pushed back his chair. “The justices will want Sir John’s testimony, of course. That is, assuming he is in his right mind.”

“I am.”

Hannah snapped her head around at the sound of his voice, as did everyone in the room.

Her heart soared to see Sir John standing there, leaning on his cane, tall boots muddy, face wind-chapped, hat askew. Had he ridden the final stretch on horseback?

He tossed his hat down on a side table. “And if you dare harm one hair of this woman’s head, or even think of separating her from her child, you will be guilty of a gross injustice, and I for one shall not stand for it.” He slowly ran a smoldering gaze from Lord Shirwell to the Parrishes, to Marianna. He lifted a hand in his wife’s direction. “What pretty tales has the missing Lady Mayfield been telling you?”

Marianna lifted her chin. “The truth.”

The magistrate said, “Only that this person, Hannah Rogers, has impersonated her, and defrauded you.” While the magistrate detailed the charges against her, Sir John’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched.

“Stuff and nonsense,” he said. “She told you just enough to poison your minds to the real story. And how quickly you have sipped at her honeyed hemlock. And swallowed it whole, no doubt.”

“Can you deny that Hannah Rogers impersonated your wife?”

Sir John threw up his hand. “It’s about time someone impersonated my wife! Marianna never felt the need to act the part. She was too busy meeting with her lover on an almost daily—or should I say nightly—basis.”

The magistrate sent Marianna an uncertain look. “Lady Mayfield is not on trial here.”

“Then perhaps she should be.”

Sir John limped a few steps forward. Dr. Parrish rose and offered him his chair, which Sir John sank into gratefully.

He began, “When the good doctor here came upon the wrecked carriage and found only myself and one woman inside, what other conclusion was he to draw? By the time Miss Rogers returned to her senses after suffering a head wound, everyone at Clifton believed her to be Lady Mayfield. And there is only one reason she did not correct them—because she had no other way to return to Bath and collect her infant son. Doctor Parrish gave her ten pounds from my purse, which, yes, she accepted, to finance the journey and to pay the extorter holding her child. That woman, by the way, has since been imprisoned for illegal and harmful practices. But that is another story....”

While Sir John spoke, Hannah noticed James Lowden slip into the back of the room. He looked unkempt and windblown as well. Apparently, both men had traveled at least part of the way on horseback, although not together.

The magistrate addressed Sir John. “Yes, yes. We have heard much of this already. But is it not true Miss Rogers was trying to coerce you into naming her illegitimate son as your heir?”

“Absolutely not. I had already planned to change my will before the accident, to disinherit Marianna Mayfield, my unfaithful wife. Which my solicitor, who is here now, I see, can confirm. But no, since the trip to Bath, Miss Rogers has not asked for, nor accepted, any money for herself, although I offered her a large sum.”

Marianna’s eyes flashed. “She fraudulently passed off her baseborn child as your son!”

Sir John coolly met her gaze. “No, she did not. For I am the boy’s father.”

Gasps rose around the room. Lady Mayfield gaped at Sir John as though he were a stranger to her. Mrs. Parrish pressed a hand to her mouth, and Dr. Parrish slowly nodded in understanding.

Sir John continued, “If anyone should be on trial today, it should be me, or perhaps Marianna, but not Miss Rogers. For I took advantage of her while she was in my employ when we lived in Bristol. She made no demands on me then. Requested no support for herself or her infant. In fact, she did not even tell me she was with child. Before her condition became evident, she simply left, planning to raise the baby on her own. Only when she believed my wife was dead and I a widower did she acknowledge that I was the boy’s father, though it was quite obvious to look at him that the lad is a Mayfield.”

Again, Dr. Parrish nodded sagely. And Hannah noticed that everyone attended Sir John’s account as they had hung on Marianna’s words before.

“When I told Miss Rogers I wished to support my son financially,” Sir John went on, “she was reluctant to accept. And she refused to allow me to include her in my new will.”

He flicked a hard glance at his wife. “And no matter what Marianna may have told you, I was in my right mind and knew very well Hannah Rogers was not in reality my wife. In fact, Miss Rogers confessed all to me as soon as I regained my senses—even before I regained the power of speech. She would have confessed all to Dr. Parrish as well, but I forestalled her.”

“Why on earth would you do so?” Lord Shirwell asked, brows low, papers forgotten.

Sir John shrugged. “At first, I only wanted to test her. To see how far she was willing to take the charade. I wrongly suspected she and Marianna had plotted the switch to allow Marianna to flee with her lover. I wasn’t fully convinced Marianna had drowned, you see. But even though others assumed we were married, Miss Rogers and I were not ... intimate. Not since the conception of our child, though some gossips”—he eyed Mrs. Parrish—“may have spread that lie.”

He glanced at Hannah’s burning face, then looked back at the magistrate. “I convinced her to keep up the pretense, since Marianna was believed dead, and had no close family left to mourn her. Because if Hannah was thought to be my wife, then her son could legally inherit my entailed property, as well as my other holdings. Every day I was sure Miss Rogers would cry off and leave. And I know she was tempted to more than once. But she stayed—not for personal gain, but only for her son’s sake. And for mine, since I asked it of her.”

Sir John again gestured to his wife. “What has Marianna told you? That she had been swept out to sea, lost her memory, and only recently remembered who she was, and came scurrying back?”

Dr. Parrish alone nodded his head.

“Rubbish, the lot of it,” Sir John continued. “She saw her opportunity to leave me after the accident and she took it, sneaking away, pretending to drown, leaving her companion bleeding and disoriented. Her husband broken and near death. And I would have died, too, had Dr. Parrish not found us so quickly. Meanwhile Marianna hid for a time, then sought out her lover, as she had done before. It was the reason I decided to move here to Devonshire in the first place—a desperate, futile attempt to separate my wife from her lover. How dismally that plan failed.”

He shook his head. “Marianna has been in London, attending balls, while Miss Rogers helped nurse me back to health, hour by tedious hour.”

For a moment, Sir John’s eyes met hers, and Hannah’s heart beat hard.

He dragged his gaze from her face and continued, “And now here Marianna is—traipsing back from the dead.” He looked at his wife. “What happened? Did your money run out? Did your lover tire of you and abandon you? So the gossips claim.”

Marianna lifted her chin but did not deny it.

“So only now does she resurface, with a mouthful of deceit. And tricks you all with her beauty and artful lies.” Sir John’s gaze swept over the assembled company before returning to the magistrate. “Would you like to hear from my solicitor? He has been gathering evidence to prove Marianna has been living in secret with her lover, not as one lost trying to learn her identity, but as one fearing to be discovered.”

Was that true? Hannah wondered. She looked at James but his flinty expression gave nothing away.

Lord Shirwell grimaced. “That will not be necessary. Again, your wife is not the subject of this hearing. Nor do these accusations against her bear on the present case—the wrongdoing committed by Hannah Rogers.”

“Of course they do,” Sir John insisted. “For there sits Marianna, pretending to be the injured wife, when nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Even if that is true, it does not change the fact that Hannah Rogers perpetrated a fraud. She doesn’t even deny it.”

Sir John rose, cane forgotten, and stood tall and straight. “If you insist on pursuing this farce, if you try to punish Miss Rogers in the slightest degree, I shall avenge her if I have to go to Parliament itself and argue my case. For all the wrong I have done, I could never forgive myself, nor any of you, if any harm befalls this fine woman or her son because of my stupid, prideful posturing.”

He speared the magistrate with a fierce gaze. “Do you hear me, your worship? Let this woman go.”

The magistrate blustered, “But ... there has been wrongdoing. Laws have been broken....”

“Yes, there has been wrongdoing, but not by Hannah Rogers. She has helped me, succored me, aided me. Not harmed me. Do you understand? What sort of a travesty is this, when the man supposedly defrauded is not even pressing charges, but is defending the falsely accused?”

“She has done something to Lady Mayfield. She has tried to take her rightful place. She—”

“Her rightful place?” Fire sparked in Sir John’s eyes. “This woman has done everything in her power to dishonor me and our marriage vows ever since our wedding trip. She has committed adultery with her lover again and again without discretion or thought to my feelings or reputation. There is no shortage of people who know of this affair. She has detested her rightful place and has lost any claim to it in my eyes, no matter what the law says. Now will you release Miss Rogers, or must I remove her by force and charge you with lynch law and intention to riot?”

For several moments Sir John and the magistrate locked gazes. Hannah feared Sir John had pushed too hard against a man so keen on demonstrating his superior power. But at last, Lord Shirwell tore the paper in two and handed the pieces back to his clerk. “Very well. Miss Rogers, I hereby dismiss all charges against you based on Sir John’s evidence. You are free to go.”

Dr. Parrish murmured, “Thank God.”

Marianna sat stone-faced while Mrs. Parrish looked at her like a sullen child regarding a cheap toy, quickly broken.

Hannah rose on shaking legs.

Sir John turned to Marianna, a muscle above his jaw ticking. “So. Shall we go home, wife ?”

Lady Mayfield formed a sour smile. “For now.”

Hannah walked out of the magistrate’s office before any of the others. Alone. She trembled all over and felt physically ill. Relief at her freedom washed through her, along with nausea from all the sordid accusations and lies she had heard that day. It left her feeling coated with tar as foul as sin. All she wanted to do was take Danny and go away somewhere clean and sunny, peaceful and true. And maybe have a long bath.

She stopped short at the sight of Mrs. Turrill rising from a bench in the hall just outside the door. She barely resisted the urge to throw herself into the woman’s arms.

Hannah breathed, “I thought you weren’t coming. Where’s Danny?”

“I had to come. Don’t worry, Danny is safe at home with my sister. I wanted to be here, whatever the outcome. You’re not vexed with me, I hope?”

Hannah shook her head. “I’m glad.”

Mrs. Turrill smiled. “I heard the last of it, my girl, sitting here as I was. And I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”

“Me too.” Hannah’s chin trembled.

Mrs. Turrill put an arm around her and together they walked outside. “Well, thank God, that’s over. What will you do now, my dear?”

“I don’t know.” She looked at the kind woman. “Mrs. Turrill, why are you so good to me, after all I’ve done? After I’ve deceived you and everyone else?”

“Oh, not everybody. Sir John knew. He was no victim, no matter what she said. And I had my suspicions. But I saw your heart. Even if you took it too far, I knew you were thinking only of your son.” Her dark eyes sparkled. “And perhaps a certain gentleman.”

Hannah shook her head. “At this point, I want nothing to do with either of them.”

“Don’t forget how they rushed in and saved you today.”

Hannah lowered her head, cheeks heating anew. “I won’t forget.”

Mrs. Turrill squeezed her shoulder. “Now, come home with me and have some tea. We’ll talk and sort things out, all right? Becky got awful scared when you were taken away. Thought she was next, poor creature. She’ll be over the moon to see you again, and that’s the truth.”

Hannah hesitated.

“Come, my dear,” Mrs. Turrill insisted. “You heard the magistrate. You’re free to go. It’s all in the past.”

“Is it?”

“Well, that’s for you to decide, isn’t it?”

Behind them, the door opened. Nervous, Hannah glanced back and saw James Lowden step outside. James met her gaze, his mouth drawn tight, eyes intense. Hannah was uncertain what else she saw in his expression, but it wasn’t good. He looked away first.

He did not approach her. Instead, he crossed the drive, signaling a groom to bring the carriages back around.

The others came out, Sir John and Marianna, followed by a trio of sheepish Parrishes.

Sir John saw her with Mrs. Turrill and broke away from the others with the help of his cane. “Miss Rogers. Where are you going?”

Hannah was aware of the others ceasing their own conversations and turning to watch them. “To Mrs. Turrill’s. For now.”

He opened his mouth, thought the better of whatever he’d been about to say, and pressed his lips together, making do with a terse nod. He clasped his hands, cane and all, behind his back as though they were tied. And indeed, they were.

Hannah swallowed. “And are you and ... Lady Mayfield ... going home?”

He winced. “Yes. To Clifton for now and then back to Bristol. I shall endeavor to forgive her with God’s help. To do my duty by her, though I don’t pretend it shall be easy. Especially after today.”

Tears pricked Hannah’s eyes. She whispered, “You are doing the right thing.”

He grimaced. “I hope so. But if you need anything—”

Hannah interrupted him gently, “I appreciate you defending me so gallantly. I do. But that’s an end to it. It’s time I was out on my own.”

She half expected him to ask, “On your own, or with James?” But he did not. His gaze flickered to the solicitor, who watched them from a distance.

Mrs. Turrill spoke up. “She’ll be in good hands, Sir John. Her and Danny both. Never you worry.”

Again, that pained terse nod. “Thank you, Mrs. Turrill.”

A few minutes later, Hannah walked side by side with her former housekeeper to the yellow cottage at the bottom of Countisbury Hill. It had been their parents’ home, Mrs. Turrill explained, which she and her sister had inherited together—and now shared when not employed elsewhere.

Inside, Hannah warmly greeted Martha Parrish, a spinster, and thanked her for her hospitality. The woman was gracious, though a bit more reserved than her sister.

In the small sitting room, they drank weak tea together, and took turns cuddling Danny and assuring Becky that all was well.

Was it? Hannah silently asked herself. Inwardly, she was not as confident as she tried to appear. Almighty God, what should I do now?