ned around her heart as she thought about the pain Keern must be in.
He blamed her for his brother’s death. And rightly so. Although she hadn’t told her father Keern had raped her, she had verified his identity to her father. Maybe if she had lied ... Maybe if she had held her tongue ...
If only she could change things so that she and Keern had never met.
Her soul ached as she could almost feel his hatred gripping her.
* * * * *
Two days after Will’s funeral, Keern and his family sat in court. He and the chief constable had gone back to the Wakefield house and tried to find Shena, but no one knew her whereabouts, or so they had claimed. As the judge entered the courtroom and sat at his desk, Keern glanced around. Still no Shena.
After listening to all the statements from Keern’s family and their men, the chief constable had agreed they had acted in self-defense, but with so many rumors bouncing around about the reason for Wakefield’s attack, this hearing was being held to determine if Keern would be tried for the rape of Shena Wakefield and possibly the murder of Henry Wakefield. Since Shena was the key witness, Keern was amazed she wasn’t here.
As the proceedings progressed, he kept an eye on the door and another on the clock, wondering when she would make her entrance. As the minutes ticked away, he began to realize she wasn’t coming. His gut twisted as he wondered if something had happened to her -- and cursed himself for caring.
The judge glanced through his glasses at the papers on his desk. He cleared his throat, the sound reverberating through the large wood-paneled room.
“Mr. Herrington, in your statement, you say that Mr. Wakefield attacked your family and killed your elder brother, Will, and in turn, you killed Wakefield. Since he was the one who instigated the attack, you claim you acted in self-defense and the defense of your family.”
“That is correct, Your Honor.”
The judge lifted the paper in front of him, then shifted it sideways, examining another.
“It seems, however, that Mr. Wakefield attacked your family because he believed you, Keern Herrington, raped his daughter.”
Anger rocketed through Keern at Shena’s vicious lie, but he kept it tightly hidden.
“I did not, Your Honor.”
The judge leaned forward, his eyes dark and forbidding, and held up a sheaf of papers.
“I have signed statements from a number of people in Mr. Wakefield’s employ who say that when Wakefield heard rumors of the alleged rape from a neighbor, Wakefield confronted his daughter and she claimed you did.”
“She lied,” Keern stated calmly, although he felt anything but calm.
The judge glanced around the courtroom and scowled.
“Well, since Miss Wakefield is not available for questioning at the moment, I have no way to verify that.”
“Your Honor, we have evidence to support Mr. Herrington’s claim.”
Keern glanced at his lawyer, and the man nodded back, a sure smile gripping his face. The lawyer had told Keern as they stepped into court this morning that he had new evidence that would prove Keern’s innocence, but had refused to tell him what it was. The man loved the dramatic.
“Well, bring it here, man,” the judge ordered.
The lawyer approached the judge and handed him a large, flat envelope. The judge opened the flap, tugged out a piece of paper, and examined it. He shook his head, his mouth a grim, straight line.
“Well, that explains why the young woman’s not here,” he muttered.
Keern’s heart froze. Was Shena dead?
The judge raised his gaze to the courtroom. “It seems that the young woman has been sold to the slavers. I have a photograph here that shows her in the slavers’ camp, and the brand on her wrist verifies she was a virgin. She’s holding a newspaper showing the date as two days ago. The claim she made to her father about Mr. Herrington was obviously false.”
He turned his gaze to Keern. “Well, Mr. Herrington, it seems you were telling the truth. This hearing is adjourned.”
His gavel cracked against his desk, and joyful voices erupted around Keern.
But Keern hardly heard them, or felt the slaps on his back from his brother and cousin.