Chapter 11 #2
Colonel Macintosh and the advocate milled about for a moment until Barrow returned to invite him for a drink whilst he awaited the ferry back to Fort St Catherine, leaving Richard alone in the room.
He felt sick; he felt like putting his fist through a door, or somebody’s face.
But that would not do. It would only corroborate Weekes’ bizarre allegations that he had been the victim of harassment all the time.
Instead, Richard retired to the anteroom for a moment to collect himself.
There was nothing left for him in this fort.
All his belongings were on the ship, which would now surely sail in the morning, and his room was quite bare.
He could not join the men at mess, nor could he appear at the Barrows’ suite, for he had received no invitation.
In the anteroom, he could sit and ponder what had happened and try to understand how such a dire miscarriage of justice could have occurred.
He was at his thoughts when a noise from the main room caught his attention.
Voices. He recognised Simmond and Notts, and then, yes, Weekes.
The bastard. Had Weekes been alone, Richard would have confronted him and planted his fist in the man’s face, but with the others there, that would never do.
And so, he burrowed into a corner behind a coat stand and listened.
“Why did you do it, after all?” That sounded like Simmond. “She is hardly pretty, and not your normal fare. Did you need to incur the colonel’s wrath?”
“I didn’t care about her, you ass.” That was Weekes.
“She was irrelevant. I did it to damage him. He did not seem to care about anything I did to him, but I knew I had one last chance. You can always hurt somebody the most by attacking what they hold dear. And he cares about her. I’m surprised they haven’t been caught at it in the sheds or even under her father’s roof.
I suppose they’re more careful than that.
Little slut. But this was my last chance to injure him, and so I took it.
And it worked! Thank you for planting those seeds in the advocate’s ear.
Consider that little affair from the other night quite cleared up.
You can come to the tables with a clean tally sheet. ”
“Not that you are ever short of blunt!” That was Simmond. “That little game you have is still working well.”
“Ah, here is your pin,” Notts spoke up. “You must have dropped it by your chair. Let’s pin it back to your uniform and get out of this room. I like it not!”
And the three shuffled out, laughing as they did so.
Richard had two visitors in his empty room that night.
Major Moreson stopped by to explain what he could of the panel’s decision.
He had believed Emily completely, but his was the only voice in favour of convicting Weekes.
It had been one against four, and the majority’s voice prevailed.
He apologised, to which Richard could do nothing but accept.
It must have taken some strength of character to dissent against such a group.
Moreson wished him well and took his leave.
The second visitor was Colonel Barrow. He was in high dudgeon, ranting and steaming against Weekes’ perfidy. He refused the single chair and instead paced up and down the small space, cursing in language Richard had never heard from the man’s lips.
“How could that bastard lie like that, and under oath? What does he think we’re made of?
Did he think we would actually believe him?
It was all a show for Macintosh. His friends knew very well that he was the perpetrator of all these incidents, and especially the attack on poor Emily.
She has been crying in her room these last two days, and she is not one to weep.
Stoic as they come is my Emily. How could he lie about her like that?
About you? No, these curs were bought and paid for, I’ll swear it!
“I cannot have them under my command anymore. I just cannot abide having such men holding any sort of authority in my fort. I have already written letters to England demanding that each and every one of them be reassigned, all to different places with much distance between them, and to the far corners of the earth if possible. I would assign them all to latrine duty for the remainder of their time here if I had my way. Damned, accursed bastards, every man-jack of them!”
Richard interrupted his friend. “I heard two of the men today, after everybody else had left the room. Weekes did indeed buy their loyalty with a promise to erase their gambling debts. There was also some brief discussion about a game, and I do not think they meant the cards. Could it have anything to do with the extra supplies that seem to arrive when Weekes is not here to see to the ships?”
Barrow glowered. “I have had my suspicions about something going awry. I shall investigate further. Tell me more.”
Richard related everything he knew, which was not a great deal.
“Some of the men—Simmond, at the least, and Notts—know something. Perhaps Weekes holds this over them as well. Still, there is clear perjury. It is quite clear his underlings knew exactly what had transpired and worked together to subvert justice.”
“But it is only your word against theirs.”
“So it would be. We shall find no satisfaction in that realm, even if we choose to pursue it. There is no chance of success.” Richard wished the room were larger so he could join Barrow in his pacing. Instead, he asked, “And what of Weekes? How will you deal with him in the meantime?”
“I cannot have him around. Not near Emily. I have talked with Macintosh and Weekes will be reassigned to Fort St Catherine immediately. He will be on tomorrow’s ferry, whether he likes it or not.
He may have been cleared of these charges, but I am still the commanding officer here.
I shall require another secretary, but educated men with good handwriting are not so rare upon the ground that I shall be without.
Captain Denham might be a good choice. I shall try him out tomorrow. ”
The pacing continued, but Barrow seemed to have run out of words for the moment.
“You said Emily is still very upset. Will she be well? I feel so impotent, not being able to help her.”
Barrow scowled. “She was improving until the blackguards found him innocent of the crime. You saw her at the proceedings. She was almost back to herself. Now she is a mess of tears again. But she is made of stern stuff, she is. I warrant she will be well soon enough. And the sooner Weekes is gone from this fort, the better she will be.”
“I will write to her the moment I am back in England. I consider myself her fast friend and would have her know that I will not abandon her, even if I am far away. Please convey this to her.”
Barrow agreed and took his leave. Now Richard was alone at last, with nothing to do and nothing to distract him from the one matter he had been trying to ignore these past two days. That kiss.
In his solitude, he lay down upon the narrow bed, feeling all the aches and pains that his exertions had brought upon his still-healing body, and he hoped for sleep. But sleep would not come, would not allow his mind to cease replaying that kiss again and again.
He could not have meant it. He was of no mind to pursue romance, and she was of none to receive it.
And most especially not after what she had told him at the wharf-side in Hamilton.
Besides, Emily was a friend, and one did not kiss one’s friends!
Most definitely, Richard had never felt the slightest inclination to kiss any of his friends back in London.
The closest he came to a wish for physical contact was a masculine slap across the shoulders or a firm handshake. Certainly, never a kiss!
It was the shock of the situation, combined with the uncertainty of what was to come next in his life that had stirred him to such actions.
Surely that must be it! If his feelings for Emily were different than those he felt towards his male friends, it was a matter of the expectations of society. Surely!