Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Thirty One - Part Two

3

 

Being put on trial was far worse than Burt had anticipated.

He had shackles on his wrists and ankles as though he were a hardened criminal – the jailer had seen to that as he leered and cackled away before the procession had began. And the procession had been awful as well: led through the muddy streets of the village with the side of the road lined by gawping villagers, staring or pointing and laughing. The children ran alongside him as he was led, circling him and the jailer.

He had thought being in the stock to be the crowning humiliation once upon a time. That had been surpassed by his flogging in the village square. Now this topped them both because this took place now in the cold light of day, without the shock and panic of the whipping. And now he had no illusions left about his lack of power or station. He knew how hopeless his situation was. His humiliation was complete.

They dragged him to the corner and onto the main road, passing the Dog & Pony where Mavis stood alongside her father and brothers, wringing her apron in her hands.

Their eyes found one another but there was no further communication. There couldn’t be. Even Mavis now knew that Burt was beyond her reach.

He saw the village hall up ahead, converted for the day to the use of a courthouse. Every step closer he went was another nail in coffin of his freedom. But why quibble? His freedom had been taken from him days earlier. He wasn’t a free man now and wouldn’t be again until years had gone by.

Outside the village hall, a secure prison coach was stood waiting in anticipation of a guilty verdict. There would be no delay. Burt would be locked up in that, staring out through the barred windows as they drew him away and transported him to prison. He eyed it forlornly as he drew closer, then level with it.

For an instant he imagined it was a normal coach, an opulent marvel of beauty and comfort, come to carry him off to a ball as Lady Ann.

But he wasn’t Lady Ann no more. Those days were totally out of reach now. The best he could hope for was to return to his servant’s life for the rest of his days and even that was hopelessly out of reach.

He reached the grand doorway to the village hall and took one last look back across the diagonal to Mavis’ face. It looked so full of pain and yearning. He wanted so much to be with her one more time, even if only for a moment.

But the jailer jabbed him in the back, forcing him through the door and into the darkness and she was gone.

He was led into an antechamber and made to wait. Half an hour passed. Then an hour. Finally he was led through into the main hall and gasped to see the arrayed people, the entirely new layout.

He was led to a temporarily erected barrier and made to stand. The magistrate, an elderly man with a face like death himself sat at a desk near the back of the room. The rest of the space was filled with chairs, benches and then standing room. The Earl wanted an example to be made and that meant witnesses. The hall was full to bursting. Everyone wanted to see his humiliating fall and Burt spied many faces he knew. The Earl and Countess were there, his… former parents – employers now really. Lady Harriet sat with them, still looking rather shaken by the proceedings.

Old Harry was near the back alongside Jeb. Mavis and her father were near the door, the lass’s face a picture of tender but pessimistic concern.

In moments the magistrate started the proceedings and it instantly took a turn for the worse.

He was a cold and officious man, hard faced and hard eyed. He glared at Burt as he ran through the preliminary sections. He had no understanding in his pose or expression. He would clearly have sentenced Burt to hang if it had been allowed by the law.

Burt just stood in a bewildered daze as the first witness was called – the Earl himself.

The old man stood and answered the questions he was posed, painting a picture of the events the night before last. Throughout he glared in clear anger at Burt but Burt couldn’t face him. He hung his head in shame as his crimes were laid out; activities he now fully realised had been wrong for someone of his meager station.

If only he’d accepted he was never going to be quality again before this, this would never have happened. If only he’d stopped fighting against what he knew now was his undisputed destiny – the life of a peasant. He felt he would give anything now to go back to that simple life and never try to break from it again.

The Earl finished by saying, “I have never been so disappointed and disgusted by a man in my employ. This blackguard is nothing but a diabolical criminal and I recommend he be punished to the full extent of the law.

The magistrate thanked him, smiling for the first time with a lion’s smile. The Earl withdrew and took his seat.

Next Lady Harriet was called, looking unhappy and uncomfortable.

The magistrate began his questioning based, clearly on information he had received previously from the Earl.

Initially Hattie was evasive but when pressed she started to confirm the full details of Burt’s unlawful entry to the Hall and his attempted theft of the pendant; his “filthy and morally vacuous groping through her ladyship’s drawers.”

The questioning rounded out and despite himself, Burt almost quivered with relief when the jailer’s vicious forebodings didn’t come to pass regarding his ill-fated attempt to woo Hattie on Griply Mount.

Then the magistrate said, “And now tell us about the attempted sexual assault on your person by the prisoner.”

Burt’s mouth slid flaccidly open and a cold draught crept up his spine from his belt to his neck.

Again Hattie was evasive and vague but the Earl cleared his throat loudly and her eyes danced fearfully over to him and starting quietly, she said, “That man there; the prisoner; approached me after dark well away from other eyes up on the hill near the hall.”

The magistrate checked his notes. “Griply Mount?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And he propositioned me in a sexual manner, suggesting that he and I might…”

There was a long and hungry pause.

“That you might… have intercourse?” asked the magistrate.

There was a ripple of whispers from the crowd. Burt hung his head further, unable to bear the thought of seeing Mavis’s expression.

Hattie squirmed, unwilling to confirm the severity of the accusation. All mischief and playfulness was gone from her manner. She fully understood now the impact of her words and actions.

“I don’t think it is necessary for my daughter to be forced to relive the brutality of this obscene incident,” said the Earl loudly. “Her silence speaks as loudly as her words would.”

Burt looked at the magistrate. It seemed he would disagree, but instead he said, “Indeed. You may step down Lady Harriet.”

Hattie went back to her seat, her eyes brimming with tears. The Countess enfolded her in her arms.

There was a long silent minute while the magistrate sorted through his papers, then he addressed Burt directly.

“Burt Harper, you have heard the accusations made against you and, despite your lack of education and retarded intelligence, you understand the seriousness of your crimes. Is that correct?”

Burt nodded. “Yes sir.”

“To the crime of theft, how do you plead?”

Burt looked back at the gaunt uncaring man. He knew that an admittance of guilt would send him to prison, but what else could he give. He accepted now that the pendant didn’t belong to him. It was Lady Ann’s. To take it without permission was theft; it was as simple as that. He wished he could lie to the man, do anything to squirm out of it, but this was one of his betters. He didn’t dare lie to a direct question.

“I’m guilty sir,” he said.

A furor of whispers ran round the crowd. The magistrate allowed time for them to settle.

“And to the crime of unlawfully entering a dwelling house and, in a most insidious way, riffling through the undergarments of a titled lady?”

Burt swallowed, sweating profusely. It was all such a terrible misunderstanding, but again, he had done this. It wasn’t his home. He had no right to be there. He had gone in against all knowledge and instinct that he should remain outside. And he had riffled through her ladyship’s things. The intention had been to find the pendant but he knew in his hear that he’d gained a dirty sexual pleasure from doing so.

“I’m guilty your honour.”

This time the chatter was loud enough for the magistrate to bang his gavel to bring the room to order. He made a second note on the paper before him and then levelled his cold eyes on Burt once more.

“You are accused of brutally beating one of your fellow men with the intentions to cause grievous bodily harm.”

Burt thought of the man in the alley; Mavis screaming at him to stop; the Earl catching him in the act; the night in the stocks.

“How do you plead?”

“Guilty sir,” replied Burt. There was no use denying that and he had no wish for Mavis to be called as a witness.

The crowd remained silent.

“To the crime of indecently harassing Lady Harriet Neville for the express purpose of instigating sexual relations… how do you plead?”

Burt’s face turned a dark and simmering red. He felt all eyes in the court on him; condemning him. He looked down at his boots, knowing that with this accusation more than any other he should keep his mouth shut. But he had propositioned her ladyship, entirely inappropriately. She was infinitely superior to him and he had approached her with lewd and coarse suggestions. He had wanted nothing more than to engage with her in sexual intercourse. He was guilty of this and everything else they had accused him off and he was going to go to prison for it.

“I’m guilty your honour,” he said and now the entire hall erupted in chatter and cries of horror.

Burt turned a still deeper shade of red.

He knew now that he was entirely doomed. There was no way out of this. His only hope was that Lady Ann might walk into the hall in the next few minutes to forgive him of the crimes against her at least, somehow mitigate the accusations levelled at him and reduce the inevitable sentence.

He looked to the door, hoping against all hope that it would open right now and admit her entrance.

Lady Ann was the only one who could save him now.

4

Over two hundred miles away to the south, Lady Ann sat beside Richard on the train as it pulled slowly through the outskirts of London.

She looked sadly across the soot black buildings and slate roofs, wishing she didn’t have to leave the splendour of the capital but yearning still for the beauty of the country. As both Ann and Burt she had lived the better part of her life in Griply and the memories were so seamlessly intermingled now, it was impossible without introspection to judge which belonged to whom.

All she knew was that she wanted to go home and as quickly as possible.

It was a shame there were so many hours of travel merely to get to York. Changing trains there was bound to delay them further and the train to Griply was even slower. In all likelihood they would end up staying the night in York.

But what did it matter really? What harm could there be in delaying?