Page 58 of The Autumn Wife
“Madame Tremblay, it is your prerogative at this time to ask any questions of this witness, to corroborate or to deny his testimony.”
A thousand words rose to her lips. Eduard did like gambling. And wine. And brandy. And preferred to spend his coin on his friends rather than on his family. But confirming Eduard’s sordid character wouldn’t absolve her from the accusation of murder. She could tell that the witness’s testimony had already polluted the air with wariness and contempt for her. She would make matters worse if she spoke ill of the dead, so she hesitated. What could she ask? She’d had no warning that there would be witnesses and no idea that she’d be allowed to speak. She dared not look at Theo and get him involved.
In the end, simple truth won out. “I do not know this man, sir.” Cecile lowered her chin. “I cannot refute anything he has said.”
The clerk shrugged, then flipped through another parchment in his possession. Calling up another rough-looking woods runner, the clerk began reading a similar testimony.
Then the door to the courtroom burst open.
Feet pounded on the courtroom floorboards.
Cecile swung around to witness a crowd of women pouring into the room like a phalanx of skirted soldiers—led by Sister Martha.
The nun winked at her—winked—as she charged full sail past the box for the accused to head toward the front table. The nun came to a stop directly in front of the judge and Talon, who’d shoved their seats back as if expecting the women to lunge.
“This proceeding is anoutrage.”Sister Martha planted her fists on her hips. “And to see you here, Intendant Talon, taking part in this farce.”
“What is the meaning of this?” The judge caught hold of himself and arranged his features into a stern expression. “I order you and this rabble to leave—”
“Leave, you say?” Sister Martha’s voice quivered with astonishment. “But I’ve come to testify. The law may weigh the testimony of a woman as worth a fraction of that of a man”—the nun glared back at the rogues’ gallery of witnesses now shrinking in their seats—“but, if Madame Tremblay’s lessons in mathematics are correct, many fractions add up to a whole. Thus, I’ve brought with me others who will confirm my testimony to the gentle, spotless character of our much-aggrieved sister in all but blood, Cecile Tremblay, who isfalsely accused.”
The women crowding the narrow aisle raised their voices in agreement.
Cecile caught her breath at the tumult. Every nun in the congregation was present. As was Marie— darling Marie! —now beaming encouragement, Lucas standing tall at her side.
And— could it be? —there was Marietta, all the way from Quebec, with her husband, Philippe.
And— who was that? —no, it couldn’t possibly be.
Cecile blinked at the sight of a tiny redhead in buckskins and leggings decorated with painted porcupine quills. Cecile shook her head, trying toerase the illusion, for her friend Genny couldn’t behere.Yet the girl-who-couldn’t-be-Genny grinned at her, nodding in encouragement.
Cecile choked on a cough. The edge of the railing bit into her hip.
All of these women. All of these friends.
They’d come to save her.
Up front, Sister Martha spoke ever louder to the men ranged behind the table. “Why have you all ignored the complaints I’ve lodged with your clerk since you sentsoldiersto fetch a woman who belongs inmy congregationon charges that defy all reason?”
“This is a court of law,” the judge barked. “A murder has been committed, madame—”
“Not by this woman.” The nun slung a finger in her direction. “Madame Tremblay couldn’t kill a chicken for the pot.”
“If the lady is innocent,” the judge argued, with an emphasis onif, “she will be set free this very day.”
“This veryhour,she will be released.” For a short woman, Sister Martha could swell herself up to what seemed like twice her size. “If not, I promise you I shall have a word with the bishop about the government’s interference in a place where the church rules.”
The women raised their voices to the rafters.
Cecile pressed her hand against her chest to keep her heart from beating out of it. With such forces aligned in her favor, was there a chance for freedom?
Talon rose to his feet, casting his words across the room like oil upon roiling waters. “Madame Tremblay is not your novice yet, Most Reverend Mother. Or has the situation changed since our last correspondence?”
“The situationwillchange,” the nun warned, “if this lady isn’t freed into my care.”
The judge banged his palm on the desk. “She is on trial for a serious matter, and I will not allow such disruption in my courtroom.” He waved his reddened hand toward his clerk. “Read the charges.” A fresh chorus of garbled voices drowned out the clerk, so the judge raised his voice to booming. “Soldiers, come clear this mob.”
“No.” Talon gripped the judge’s shoulder. “No need of that.”
