A Place Called Freedom - Ken Follett [106]
Jay gave him a hostile glare but said curtly: “Go on, go on.”
“Mrs. Jamisson might be persuaded not to testify—on one condition.”
“What?”
“You, Jay, should plead for Mack’s life.”
“Absolutely not,” said Jay.
Gordonson went on: “It would be just as effective. But it would save the family the embarrassment of a wife going against her husband in open court.” He suddenly looked sly. “Instead, you would look magnanimous. You could say that Mack was a miner in the Jamisson pits and for that reason the family wishes to be merciful.”
Lizzie’s heart leaped with hope. A plea for mercy from Jay, the officer who had quelled the riot, would be much more effective.
She could see hesitation flicker across Jay’s face as he weighed the consequences. Then he said sulkily: “I suppose I have to accept this.”
Before Lizzie had time to feel exultant, Sir George intervened. “There’s one condition, which I know Jay will insist upon.”
Lizzie had a bad feeling that she knew what was coming.
Sir George looked at her. “You must forget all this nonsense about separate lives. You are to be a proper wife to Jay in every way.”
“No!” she cried. “He has betrayed me—how can I trust him? I won’t do it.”
Sir George said: “Then Jay will not plead for McAsh’s life.”
Gordonson said: “I must tell you, Lizzie, that Jay’s plea will be more effective than yours, because he’s the prosecutor.”
Lizzie felt bewildered. It was not fair—she was being forced to choose between Mack’s life and her own. How could she decide such a thing? She was pulled both ways, and it hurt.
They were all staring at her: Jay, Sir George, Gordonson, her mother, and York. She knew she should give in, but something inside would not let her. “No,” she said defiantly. “I will not trade my own life for Mack’s.”
Gordonson said: “Think again.”
Then her mother said: “You have to.”
Lizzie looked at her. Of course her mother would urge her to do the conventional thing. But Mother was on the verge of tears. “What is it?”
She began to cry. “You have to be a proper wife to Jay.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to have a baby.”
Lizzie stared at her. “What? What are you talking about?”
“You’re pregnant,” her mother said.
“How would you know?”
Mother spoke through sobs. “Your bosom has got bigger and food makes you feel sick. You’ve been married for two months: it’s not exactly unexpected.”
“Oh, my God.” Lizzie was dumbfounded. Everything was turned upside-down. A baby! Could it be? She thought back and realized she had not had the curse since her wedding day. So it was true. She was trapped by her own body. Jay was the father of her child. And Mother had realized this was the one thing that could change Lizzie’s mind.
She looked at her husband. On his face she saw anger mixed with a pleading look. “Why did you lie to me?” she said.
“I didn’t want to, but I had to,” he said.
She felt bitter. Her love for him would never be quite the same, she knew. But he was still her husband.
“All right,” she said. “I accept.”
Caspar Gordonson said: “Then we’re all in agreement.”
It sounded to Lizzie like a life sentence.
“Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!” shouted the court crier. “My lords, the king’s justices, strictly command all manner of persons to keep silence while the sentence of death is passing on the prisoners at the bar, on pain of imprisonment.”
The judge put on his black cap and stood up.
Mack shuddered with loathing. Nineteen cases had been tried on the same day, and twelve people had been found guilty. Mack suffered a wave of terror. Lizzie had forced Jay to plead for mercy, which meant that his death sentence should be reprieved, but what if the judge decided to discount Jay’s plea or just made a mistake?
Lizzie was at the back of the court. Mack caught her eye. She looked pale and shaken. He had not had a chance to speak to her. She tried to give him an encouraging smile, but it turned into a grimace of fear.
The judge looked at the twelve prisoners, standing in a line, and after a moment he spoke. “The law is that thou shalt return from hence, to the place