The Highwayman's Daughter

Chapter 2 p.1

She sat on a polished hardwood bench in the back row of the Old Bailey.

"James Dobbins, if you would come forward."

A man stood from the people gathered there, four rows before her, and he began to make his way to the front of the room. Once he stepped into the open space before the curious onlookers, Dobbins paused to stare into the stoic eyes of the accused.

A moment passed before he turned and nodded to the jury, and then, finally, his eyes connected with those of George Ivers; a magistrate for the crown and a resident of the closed minded town of Kentish Town; who was to preside over the trial. 

Once Dobbins was on the stand, Ivers prompted him to share his recollection of the fated day that brought them all here. Dobbins was eager to comply.

"Beth was not my wife," Dobbins began, "She was a widow, her name rightfully Buchannon. We have shared the cottage on Millfield Lane, in our beautiful Kentish Town, for the last twenty years."

"And on Tuesday a fortnight ago?" Ivers prompted.

"On Tuesday a fortnight ago, I went home for dinner at precisely twenty minutes after one, as I normally do. I stayed my usual three-quarters of an hour before returning to my position at the Hampstead Water Company." Dobbins took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second or two, in what seemed an attempt to steel himself against the grim tale he was about to tell. "William Clark, a friend I work with, returned home with me just after the third hour. I made for the barn to deposit my tools while Clarke went ahead to the cottage to beg a drink. Next I knew, Clarke came flying into the barn, saying the door was locked fast against him and when he called out for Beth all he heard was groaning. I dropped my tools and ran to the cottage. Finding both the front and back doors opened wide, it was then that I..." Dobbins' voice broke, and he took a moment to clear his throat before continuing, "It was then that I saw Beth. She was lying on the floor near the copper, groaning in pain, coughing on the blood that spilled from her lips. Clarke helped me to lift her into a chair, 'twas then we saw just how badly she was injured. Her head had been bashed violently, the bones of her skull were crushed." His eyes closed tight for a second as though to keep his tears from spilling, "Beth was only with us for another quarter of an hour." His tortured gaze returned to Ivers, "After searching around a few moments, we found the poker, bent and bloodied, standing around the side of the copper." 

Dobbins, Ivers, and all the others faded away, leaving only the accused shackled to his table and Tory seated in the fourth row. He turned, and his dark, ocean blue eyes focused upon her. His concern for her well being written plainly in the set of his firm jaw, his undying love for her spanning the space and distance between them. Her heart ached, and her throat constricted painfully. Then she heard his voice as clear as if he whispered in her ear, though his lips never moved, "Dinnae be taken in by 'em, daughter dearest, there be treachery afoot."

With her father's warning echoing through her mind, Tory shot up amongst her bedrolls.

She scanned the rocky cavern around her, seeing all her men, save Lachlan, tucked into their sleeping robes, slumbering away. Drawing in a deep breath, she let it out slowly, falling back into her robes with a hand around her own throat, not surprised at all that the night terrors had returned.

Today is the day that all the wrongs from so long ago would begin to be set aright. While she should feel empowered knowing her goal was now within reach, her subconscious mind still appeared inclined to wallow in the past. Securing Tomas, she felt, would dispell the empty feeling that consumed her. However, she should feel better just knowing she now had the opportunity, and the means, to do so. The King held him under the pretense of guardianship, but in actuality, Tomas was the King's prisoner and had been for nigh a decade now.