A Breath of Snow and Ashes - Diana Gabaldon [568]
“She is accused, but there is no merit to the charge. Surely, having had her acquaintance for even so short a time as you have, ye will have drawn your own conclusions as to her character?” Not waiting for an answer to this, he pressed on.
“When accusation was made, we did not resist the attempt to bring my wife—or myself, for I also have been accused in the matter—to trial. What better indication is there that we should hold such conviction of her innocence as to wish for a speedy trial to establish it?”
The Governor had narrowed his eyes, and appeared to be thinking intently.
“Your arguments are not entirely lacking in virtue, sir,” he said at last, with formal courtesy. “However, I understand that the crime of which your wife stands accused was a most heinous one. For me to release her must necessarily cause public outcry—and I have had rather enough of public unrest,” he added, with a bleak look at the scorched cuffs of Jamie’s coat.
Jamie took a deep breath and had another go.
“I quite understand Your Excellency’s reservations,” he said. “Perhaps some . . . surety might be offered, which would overcome them?”
Martin sat bolt upright in his chair, receding jaw thrust out.
“What do you suggest, sir? Have you the impertinence, the—the—unspeakable bloody face to try to bribe me?” He slapped both hands down on the desk and glared from Jamie to me and back. “God damn it, I should hang the two of you, out of hand!”
“Very nice, Mr. Ohnat,” I muttered to Jamie under my breath. “At least we’re already married.”
“Oh, ah,” he replied, giving me a brief glance of incomprehension before returning his attention to the Governor, who was muttering “Swing them from the bloody yardarm . . . the infernal cheek of it, the creatures!”
“I had no such intent, sir.” Jamie kept his voice level, his eyes direct. “What I offer is a bond, against my wife’s appearance in court to answer the charge against her. When she does so appear, it would be returned to me.”
Before the Governor could respond to this, he reached into his pocket and withdrew something small and dark, which he set on the desk. The black diamond.
The sight of it stopped Martin in mid-sentence. He blinked, once, his long-nosed face going almost comically blank. He rubbed a finger slowly across his upper lip, considering.
Having seen a great deal of the Governor’s private correspondence and accounts by now, I was well aware that he had few private means, and was obliged to live far beyond his modest income in order to maintain the appearances necessary for a Royal Governor.
The Governor in turn was well aware that in the current state of unrest, there was little chance of my being brought to trial in any sort of timely manner. It could be months—and possibly years—before the court system was restored to anything like routine function. And for however long it took, he would have the diamond. He couldn’t in honor simply sell the thing—but could most assuredly borrow a substantial sum against it, in the reasonable expectation that he might redeem it later.
I saw his eyes flicker toward the sooty marks on Jamie’s coat, narrowing in speculation. There was also a good possibility of Jamie’s being killed or arrested for treason—and I saw the impulse to do just that pop momentarily into his mind—which would leave the diamond perhaps in legal limbo, but certainly in Martin’s possession. I had to force myself to keep on breathing.
But he wasn’t stupid, Martin—nor was he venal. With a small sigh, he pushed the stone back toward Jamie.
“No, sir,” he said, though his voice had now lost its earlier outrage. “I will not accept this as bond for your wife. But the notion of surety . . .” His gaze went to the stack of papers on his desk, and returned to Jamie.
“I will make you a proposition, sir,” he said abruptly. “I have an action in train, an operation by which I hope to raise