James began a small coughing fit on the other side of the courtroom. The crowd whispered excitedly, twittering like mockingbirds. I continued, beginning to enjoy inhabiting my old self again.
“If you are asking me: did I steal a boat with the said Captain Jack Rackham, then yes, I did. But I did not just steal a boat. Truth be told, there’s not a lot of things I haven’t stolen these past months. Although, I s’pose you most likely feel I am a kindred spirit, Mister Rogers. Word has it you’ve taken your fair share of things that aren’t yours, too. From what I hear, anyways.”
There was a collective gasp from the courtroom. James’s face was beginning to turn purple.
The governor’s face was calm, impassive, impenetrable.
“Mrs Bonny. I am sorry to say that your sources are sorely mistaken. With the company you keep, this is no surprise. I will thank you to only speak of facts and relay the truth in my courtroom.”
“Governor,” James said, finally finding his voice from across the room, “please excuse my wife. I regret to say she has always been considered simple in polite company. She did not receive a proper education, so she lacks the intellect to understand what she is saying or doing in these situations. I must apologise on her behalf for her idiocy and insubordination. She is in my care now, and I will be sure to remedy her behaviour as soon as possible.”
Rogers did not even bother to look up from his writings. “Well, for reasons quite unknown to me, it seems your husband cares enough to have saved your hide, Mrs Bonny. You are a lucky woman. You have him and him alone to thank for keeping you out of jail. Therefore, following your husband’s claim on you, and your own…rather candid…confessions, I hereby grant you the King’s Pardon, on the condition that you change your sinful ways. However –” he paused to look at me, his fat lips twitching with the slightest suggestion of pleasure. “– as governor of this civilised British colony, I simply cannot allow your public infidelity and debauchery to go unpunished. I therefore sentence you to twenty-one lashes in the town square, tomorrow at noon. After which, you are free to leave and return with your husband to his estate. Where, I would suggest, Mr Bonny,” he said, finally turning his attention to my pathetic husband, “you work on your wife’s rehabilitation and her eventual reintegration into our civilised society.”
“Yes, your Honour – er, yes, Governor. I plan to do precisely that. Thank you for your understanding and leniency with regards to my wife’s inexcusable behaviour. It is very much appreciated.”
If James had his tongue any further up Rogers’ arse, he would be eating the governor’s supper for him.
Rogers continued as though James had said nothing. “If, however, I receive word that Mrs Bonny’s promiscuous tendencies have resurfaced, I shall have no hesitancy in throwing her in jail pending a full trial and punishment, as is deemed appropriate under the King’s Law. Is this understood, Mr Bonny?”
“Understood,” James almost whimpered.
I rolled my eyes.
“Mrs Bonny?” Rogers looked at me, his quill poised to write something else in his big fat book.
“I s’pose,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.
“Very well. Take her away, Mr Tandy. And Mr Bonny, Mr Tandy – be sure to present Mrs Bonny to the town square by noon tomorrow for her whipping.”
Next to me, Alasdair nodded, rose silently and led me out of the courtroom, his vice-like grip burning into my forearm. James scurried out from the cheap seats and followed behind us, making sure he was always well out of my reach, of course.
I have never prayed to any god, but as I was dragged from that courthouse, I offered up a silent plea that – somehow – I would get the chance to wreak my revenge on these cowardly, pitiful excuses for men.
Sometime soon.
10
The next morning, an open horse-drawn carriage was waiting outside James’s house to take me to the town square for my public humiliation.
Alasdair took charge of dressing me again, most likely knowing that if I were left with a handmaiden, I would make my escape. I wondered what plans they were making to ensure that could never happen, and clung to the hope that – one day, for just one moment – they would become complacent. That was all I required.
Alasdair silently washed me from head to toe in a cast iron bathtub – my hands trussed to an eye hook in the ceiling and his hands roaming wherever they pleased. Afterwards, he dressed me in a simple thin white cotton gown, but with no undergarments. I tried not to think of the reasons why. Then he led me outside, to where James waited by the open carriage. My husband had a strange, satisfied look on his face. It was almost as if he were enjoying this, much as one would a special occasion. Not for the first time, I thought he must have some sort of profound mental retardation to conclude that the public whipping of his wife was an event to be celebrated. Or to think that I would somehow emerge miraculously transformed into a subservient wife.
I looked up at the cloudless blue sky, taking my mind somewhere far away, searching for some comfort. A lone herring gull circled high overhead, its cries echoing off the hillside. I tracked its journey from land to sea, out towards a small lugsail fishing boat returning from its morning catch. Gulls surrounded its yellowing sails, two dozen fluttering white dots in the distance.
It was the most perfect sailing day, calm waters and steady winds. The sun glittered a path over the ocean, its rays reflecting a thousand times upon gleaming waves of water, taunting me with a narrowing, sparkling route
