With deep disappointment, Monsieur Polk replied, 'Yes, Your Honor.'
'Monsieur Williams?'
'A few minor questions,' he said, dripping with sarcasm. 'Madame Andreas. You claim you were married to Paul Tate even though you were still in love with Beau Andreas. Why did you marry Monsieur Tate, then?'
'I . . . was alone and he wanted to provide a home for me and my child.'
'Most husbands want to provide homes for their wives and children. Did he love you?'
'Oh yes.'
'Did you love him?'
'I . . .”
'Well, did you?'
'Yes, but . . .'
'But what, madame?'
'But it was a different sort of love, a friendship, a . . .' I wanted to say 'sisterly,' but when I looked at Gladys and Octavious, I couldn't do it. 'A different sort of love.'
'You were man and wife, were you not? You were married in a church, you said.'
'Yes.'
He narrowed his eyes. 'Did you see Monsieur Andreas romantically while you were married to Monsieur Tate?'
'Yes,' I said, and some in the audience gasped and shook their heads.
'And according to your tale, your husband was aware of this?'
'Yes.'
'He was aware of this and he tolerated it? Not only did he tolerate it, but he was willing to take in your dying sister and pretend it was you so you would be happy.' He spun around as he continued, directing himself to the audience as much as he directed himself to the judge. 'And then he became so depressed over her death that he drowned in the swamp? This is the story you and Monsieur Andreas want everyone to accept?'
'Yes,' I cried. 'It's true. All of it.'
Monsieur Williams gazed at the judge and twisted the corner of his mouth until it cut into his cheek.
'No further questions, Your Honor.'
The judge nodded. 'You may step down, madame,' he said, but I couldn't stand. My legs were like wet straw and my back felt as if it had turned to jelly. I closed my eyes.
'Ruby,' Beau called.
'Are you all right, madame?' the judge asked.
I shook my head. My heart was pounding so hard, I couldn't catch my breath. I felt the blood drain from my face. When I opened my eyes, Beau was holding my hand. Someone had brought up a wet cloth for my forehead and I realized I had fainted.
'Can you walk, Ruby?' Beau asked.
I nodded.
'We'll have a short recess,' the judge said, and slammed his gavel down. I felt as if he had slammed it down on my heart.
17
Thicker Than Water
During the recess Beau and I were shown to a waiting room in which there was a small sofa. Beau had me lie down and keep the wet cloth on my forehead while Monsieur Polk went to make a phone call to his office. He looked glum and disturbed. In fact, I thought he seemed angry at us for bringing him into the situation.
'Beau, we looked foolish in there, didn't we?' I asked mournfully. 'After we told our story, the Tates' attorney made us look like liars.'
'No,' Beau encouraged. 'People believed us. I saw it in their faces. And besides, once your handwriting is compared to Gisselle's and analyzed . . .'
'They will find an expert to discount it, You know they will. She's so determined to hurt us, Beau. She won't spare any cost. She would use Paul's entire fortune to defeat us!'
'Take it easy, Ruby. Please. We have to go back and—'
We both turned when the door opened and Jeanne entered. For a moment no one spoke. She held the door partially opened behind her as if she might change her mind and bolt out of the room any moment.
'Jeanne,' I said, sitting up. 'Please, come in.'
She stared at me, her eyes watery. 'I don't know what to believe anymore,' she said, shaking her head. 'Mother swears you and Beau are just good liars.'
