I am writing another chapter in a couple of hours. I will thank you properly then, MoonlitSerenity, when I'm not being hassled to get off the computer.
Chapter Thirty-Seven.
"Docket number 4675. The Commonwealth versus Johanna Barker."
Johanna stood, with Bridget Hope and her French lover Piers supportively behind her in the audience, a lawyer she did not know who Dane said would be part of their counsel from his law firm on one side of her, and on her other side, Dane Sanders himself looking regal in his court attire. Indeed, Dane did look as if he were in his domain, standing straight and noble in his charcoal black open-fronted gown over his morning suit, the open sleeves of the robe billowing out down his figure. The white of his yoke around his neck was the same hue as the short horsehair wig he wore over his dark hair, the white curls coiled at the sides and back, tied with an ebony ribbon of satin. Even the eyepatch he wore, she noted, was of a finer material than the one he wore made of cloth in his day-to-day business, though, she had a feeling he would not appreciate her mentioning that small detail. She herself wore a dark gown borrowed from Miss Hope, with her golden hair pinned up neatly and modestly. She tried to ensure her looking around in awe at the court was done in a subtle fashion, for she had never sat through proceedings before and was intrigued, but did not want to shame Dane…He seemed to take such pride in his occupation. Even his voice seemed more polished, not completely losing his rough accent, but refining it somewhat. The amount of people there to see this was incredible! Her heart began to race as the enormity of the situation overcame her. She knew from the little knowledge she had about court sessions that bail hearings were not supposed to be big ordeals. But the amount of journalists, curious lawyers, even judges she recognised from dining at the Turpin household sometimes, sitting in the audience, they even spilled out of the courtroom.
"On the charge of conspiracy for murder, how do you plead?" the Honourable Judge Keats looked down upon them all from behind his raised bench of oak, his eyes directly on Johanna herself. She tried not to squirm as she recognised him vaguely. He had come to call on Mr. Turpin a few times…
"Not guilty, Yehr Honour," Dane replied confidently.
At least somebody was confident. He had said before the proceedings that Keats was an old goat, but a fair one.
"Bail?"
"The defense requests Miss Barker Released On Recognizance. I myself will take responsibility for her custody," Dane replied.
The prosecution on the other side of them said heartily, "The defendant is charged with conspiring to murder her guardian, the esteemed Judge Turpin, her own guardian and fiance! It is suspected that Miss Barker schemed with a murderer."
Dane laughed a little, "And what else will yeh accuse my client of, Farquhar? Plotting to steal the crown jewels too?" he turned back to Judge Keats, "Yehr Honour, it is clear my client has had a frightening ordeal. She has co-operated with the police, putting her own emotional fright aside, even though all they have to accuse her of is from speculation. By rights it is absurd that she is even standing here, the whole ordeal is a sham and only playing out because they want to point fingers at everybody to try and prove to the papers they're doing something. Miss Barker has had no previous records, and in one night I have been able to receive many letters of favourable references from her governess and servants of the Turpin household," he held out a wad of letters, "She is a good girl caught up in this evil mess. This is England, is it not? We do not try people here as if they are guilty without concrete evidence. This isn't France – have we resorted back to the Sun King's faux trials where we'll just arrest at random? Why, let's sign the lettre de cachet right now, shall we?"
The prosecution sneered, "I am sure we can all agree that pre-revolutionary France has nothing to do with this case at hand and that this has everything to do with justice. A prominent judge is dead Your Honour, as well as a slew of other murders, forgive me for taking it seriously and wanting to keep our streets safe."
"Safe?" Dane snickered, "Oh, indeed! Because Miss Barker fits the profile of a mass murderer –"
Judge Keats banged his gavel, "Gentlemen! If you would be kind enough to leave your rivalry out of the courtroom, it would be most appreciated. I think we are all aware of your past," Johanna looked curiously at Dane and the prosecution glowering at each other, as the Judge continued with a sigh, "Only an imbecile would think Miss Barker was any sort of physical threat to the community. The defendant has no prior record and there is evidence of her good character. A thorough investigation will be made into the murders and Miss Barker will assist in the proceedings of course, but I am also aware that if proper precautions are not carried out, this could turn into a witch hunt. You are correct Mr. Farquhar, that this is not pre-revolutionary France, but we must ensure it never becomes that either. Tread carefully with your investigations. We do not make it a habit to incarcerate every single witness in every single crime, otherwise, I am sure more than half of London would be spilling out of our prisons. This case, no matter how important, will not change that. I will release her into your custody Mr. Sanders. I assume you will organise the proper chaperone," and with that he banged his gavel again, and the proceedings were over.
Johanna let out a sigh as Dane squeezed her hand encouragingly, and Bridget rushed up from the audience while the room began to clear, and embraced her, "I am so pleased!" then they looked at each other, and Bridget could not hide her troubled eyes. There was nothing that Johanna could say – now it was Anthony's turn. He was everybody's real concern.