Chapter Seven
“No one can see the prisoner. No one.”
“But I’m her fiancé,” Spencer protested, his gut clenching every time he thought about how he wished they were already married. The detective didn’t respond. Instead, he sat across from Spencer, looking smug.
Finally, he said, “That means nothing in the eyes of the law, Major.”
“Perhaps, but you can’t stop me from consulting with my lawyer to organize her defense. “I ultimately intend to gain her release.”
“What defense,” Bridgeman said, persisting in his claim that Charlotte was guilty. “As I have already informed you, Mrs. Eleanor Sherman observed Miss Liddell exiting her husband’s office the night of the Christmas Ball.”
“Impossible! That is not evidence, it is merely hearsay. Detective, as you are aware. Miss Liddell was with me the entire evening. She never left my sight during the time you mention in your report.”
Spencer wouldn’t give the smug detective the satisfaction of arguing with him.
For five weeks he’d made his case, but he was getting nowhere. He was crazy with worry, knowing how female prisoners were abused by the guards or starved from lack of proper nourishment.
“At least let me see her,” Spencer implored.
“It’s against regulations,” Bridgeman replied.
“You are inhumane, sir. The lady has nothing but the clothes she was wearing when you arrested her. Allow me to bring her fresh clothing,” Spencer insisted, pushing his case to see Charlotte.
He was willing to go through any channel to arrange her release, but it was killing him not to take her in his arms and kiss her.
Hold her. The brash detective wouldn’t budge.
“No, she’s not to be trusted,” he replied.
Spencer stood up and leaned over the desk, his tall frame towering over the short detective. He’d had enough.
“Unless you write the order to allow me to bring a bag of fresh clothes to Miss Liddell,” Spencer said, his heart pounding in his chest, “I swear I will send your sorry carcass to hell and back.”
It didn’t take any more convincing for the ornery detective to put pen to paper and do what Spencer asked, though unwillingly.
“We’re not done, Major, you and I,” Bridgeman spat out, signing the order. “Mark my words.”
“You’ll eat your words before I’m through with you.”
Spencer grabbed the paper and left the Pinkerton offices in a mad run.
Within the hour, he boarded a train back to Savannah, his mind working overtime.
He had a plan up his sleeve to get Charlotte released.
The train journey gave him the opportunity to collect his thoughts, plan his next move. He swore he would get her back.
Spencer entered the townhouse.
“Annabelle, where are you?” he called out.
He felt a sharp jab at his heart, reminding him that if he didn’t come up with a defense soon, he’d never hold her in his arms again.
He’d already rushed back to his office at the hospital to gather up his medical reports to prove how hard Charlotte had worked attending to the wounded.
He prayed her courage, and fortitude would have some effect on the stubborn detective as well as the military commission deciding her case.
“Annabelle,” he called out again, louder this time, announcing his frustration at not finding her. “Where are you?”
Rushing onto the back porch, he caught sight of Annabelle sitting on the swing, her hands covering her face.
She was sobbing uncontrollably. He quickly went over to her and held her in his arms, attempting to comfort her.
Spencer told her, “I need to look over my medical records in the study. I also need to collect some fresh clothes for Charlotte.”
“Of course, Major, I will get a bag ready as soon as possible. Have you heard what Charlotte’s fate will be?”
“Not yet, but rest assured, I am doing everything in my power to gain her release. I have met with my lawyer. and he has advised me that the only evidence against Charlotte would be considered as hearsay. He insisted that any trial based solely on hearsay will be halted.”
His reply nearly started her sobbing again, especially after Spencer with a heavy heart had recounted what had happened that morning and how poorly Charlotte was being treated in prison.
“Will you be all right when I go to the study to look over my records?”
“Of course, anything you can do to prove Charlotte’s innocence. I will be in the parlor if you need me.”
After she had left, Spencer pulled out the cases Charlotte had personally worked on out of his valise.
When he was finished, he decided to pack clothing and toiletries for Charlotte rather than impose on Annabelle.
After seeing the poor woman so upset upon his arrival, he thought it best to do it himself.
A deep purple twilight sliced through the second-story windows like ribbons of glass, sending him into a pensive mood.
What if he was unsuccessful in his attempt to clear her name and never saw Charlotte again?
Would the military commission find her guilty and hang her in the prison courtyard?
He shook his head to clear the troubling thoughts and pulled out practical blue and brown day dresses from her standing closet.
With his booty in hand, he grabbed a carrying case he found at the back of the mahogany cabinet.
Spencer wandered into the parlor and spied Annabelle sitting in a wing backed chair.
“Would you care for some brandy, Major?” she asked solicitously.
“Yes, thank you. I will help myself it you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” she replied.
He saw a bottle sitting on a nearby small table and downed a shot.
He had a long train journey ahead of him back to Washington City that night.
He intended to be in the Pinkerton offices tomorrow with new evidence.
He wouldn’t give up until the woman he loved was out of that horrible prison.
She belonged here with him in Savannah, and he didn’t give a damn where or when she came from—or how a ripple in time had allowed Charlotte to travel back to 1864.
It was a strange twist of fate that had brought her to him—brought her to his time.
He now knew the truth. He loved her more than life itself and truly believed that she was a time traveler from the future.
After he had met her, he knew that she had filled an emptiness in his heart.
****
“You are taking me away?” Charlotte asked, her voice filled with surprise. “Now?”
“Yes ma’am, those are the orders,” answered the guard, poking his nose into her cell and looking around. His actions made her nervous, the way he kept glancing over his shoulder.
“I was told my trial would start later today.”
“I don’t know nothing about a trial, ma’am. The commission decided that—”
He stopped abruptly as if he’d said too much and then indicated that she should get moving.
“Real quick, if it pleases you, ma’am,” he finished, clearing his throat as though he was embarrassed for acting civil toward her.
By his constant chewing and spitting, she gathered he wasn’t accustomed to affecting a polite demeanor.
Charlotte tossed her long shawl over her shoulders and smoothed down her hair.
Fortunately, she was dressed when the guard had burst through her cell door.
She’d been awake since before dawn, an unpleasant sensation crawling all over her.
A deepening fear ate at her mind that after today, she may be preparing for execution.
Spencer wasn’t there yet and that worried her.
Earlier, she’d found out from the sympathetic guard that Major Abbott would be able to visit her in her cell for a few minutes before she left for the hearing.
A lost sigh escaped her lips. She dreamed of running her hands over his broad chest wearing his Union blue and thrilling to his muscular arms gripping her tightly.
She couldn’t show him how insatiable her passion was, but she could kiss him.
Tease her tongue over his lips, whisper in his ear all the delicious things she wanted to do to him.
Afterward, who knew what her fate would be?
She could face whatever it was, knowing in her heart she’d proclaimed her love for him and told him the truth about how she had come from the future.
“Where is Major Abbott? Is he here?” she asked the guard.
“No questions, ma’am.”
The guard wouldn’t look at her.
Charlotte clasped her hands in front of her chest. Something was wrong.
“Why are you taking me to the courthouse now? Why the change in plans? Does it have to do with the Major? He has permission to see me, Sergeant, but I’ll be gone by the time he gets here!”
She glared at him.
That’s why you can’t look me in the eye.
The Sergeant wasn’t a bad sort, but he was a by-the-book soldier.
Yet as she searched his face, she could see something had cracked his outer veneer because his eyes softened as he said, “Look here, ma’am, I don’t give the orders.
I just follow them. Detective Bridgeman says I’m to collect you now.
So, if it you’ll get your things and come with me. ..?”
Charlotte felt her heart skipping, her mind racing everywhere at once. For some reason Bridgeman didn’t want her to see Spencer before the trial.
“I’m ready.”
She grabbed her bag and walked down the two flights of stairs and into the cool, windy morning.
Nearly six weeks after she was arrested for spying, she walked out of the Old Capitol Prison.
Her heart was heavy, knowing the plump, short detective would be waiting for her, his gloved hand lighting up a cigar with a sulfur match.
“Good morning, Miss Liddell,” Bridgeman said, his eyes never leaving her as he puffed on his cigar.
“When does my hearing begin?” she asked him anxiously.
“There won’t be any hearing.”
“What?” Charlotte gasped.
“Yes, fortunately for you, the military commission has decided that the evidence given by Mrs. Eleanor Sherman was merely hearsay. Also, Major Abbot brought forth evidence of your impeccable character. Apparently, you saved many Union soldiers’ lives during your time as a nurse at the Marshall House hospital.
Your case was thrown out of court,” he said, looking entirely humbled.
He was embarrassed. Yet another female spy had eluded him.
A wave of relief shuddered through her. Lord, she had never expected this. She was free to go! All she wanted now was a joyful reunion with Spencer.
Just at that moment, Spencer appeared, and happiness washed over her. Her wish had come true.
“My darling, they have set me free. There will be no trial!”
“I know, my love. You have been acquitted and released. There will be no trial because the only evidence presented was hearsay. It is considered unreliable and inadmissible in court. The rules of evidence prohibit relying solely on hearsay because it cannot be cross-examined. It was decided that Eleanor Sherman intentionally misrepresented her statement about seeing you exiting her husband’s office. ”
“All I have thought about since your interment in that prison is to be with you again,” Spencer told her with a blissful expression on his face. “I never stopped believing that we’d be together again.”
“Nor did I,” she replied
Then she clasped her arms around his neck and whispered how much she loved him. She caught the gleam in his eye, and it was wonderful.
“Do you still love me?” she asked.
He grinned.
“I’ll always love you, now and forever.”
Then, with a gentle kiss to her forehead, Spencer lifted her up into his arms and carried her to the waiting carriage.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight until we get home,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.
Home
How she loved the sound of that.