Free Slaves of Love by Opal Carew

said, “Show me all of ’em, and I’ll give you the first page.”
    The dark-haired woman pulled open her top, and his jaw dropped. She had the largest breasts Shena had ever seen. He shoved the first page through the bars. The woman who’d whispered grabbed the page and carried it over to Shena.
    “Now come over here so I can touch them,” he demanded.
    The brunette buttoned up her top and turned away.
    “Hey, I thought you wanted this?” He waved the paper, clutched tightly in his hand.
    He grabbed one of the women through the bars and dragged her against the fence, but one of the guards pushed him away. The women laughed, which made the guy angrier, but the guards prodded him on his way.
    Shena pulled the page open and began to read the article, which revealed that her father had gone after the Herringtons and killed one of them. Her heart lurched as she read the words, until she saw the first name.
    Will. Not Keern.
    She relaxed, relieved, yet knowing Keern must be suffering the loss of his brother. The words blurred as she read how her father had killed him and the eldest remaining brother, Keern, had killed her father.
    Her father was dead, and she felt nothing for him. Only a coldness deep inside.
    The article went on to say Keern blamed the daughter for his brother’s death because she’d lied about an encounter between them, after which, according to the reporter, she’d claimed Keern had raped her.
    She remembered his tender touch and the way he’d brought her exquisite pleasure. He must feel mortally wounded believing she would call such a thing rape.
    The words at the bottom of the page indicated that the article continued on a later page, which Shena did not have. The paper dropped from her hands.
    A fist tightened around her heart as she thought about the pain Keern must be in.
    He blamed her for his brother’s death. And rightly so. Although she hadn’t told her father Keern had raped her, she had verified his identity to her father. Maybe if she had lied ... Maybe if she had held her tongue ...
    If only she could change things so that she and Keern had never met.
    Her soul ached as she could almost feel his hatred gripping her.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Two days after Will’s funeral, Keern and his family sat in court. He and the chief constable had gone back to the Wakefield house and tried to find Shena, but no one knew her whereabouts, or so they had claimed. As the judge entered the courtroom and sat at his desk, Keern glanced around. Still no Shena.
    After listening to all the statements from Keern’s family and their men, the chief constable had agreed they had acted in self-defense, but with so many rumors bouncing around about the reason for Wakefield’s attack, this hearing was being held to determine if Keern would be tried for the rape of Shena Wakefield and possibly the murder of Henry Wakefield. Since Shena was the key witness, Keern was amazed she wasn’t here.
    As the proceedings progressed, he kept an eye on the door and another on the clock, wondering when she would make her entrance. As the minutes ticked away, he began to realize she wasn’t coming. His gut twisted as he wondered if something had happened to her -- and cursed himself for caring.
    The judge glanced through his glasses at the papers on his desk. He cleared his throat, the sound reverberating through the large wood-paneled room.
    “Mr. Herrington, in your statement, you say that Mr. Wakefield attacked your family and killed your elder brother, Will, and in turn, you killed Wakefield. Since he was the one who instigated the attack, you claim you acted in self-defense and the defense of your family.”
    “That is correct, Your Honor.”
    The judge lifted the paper in front of him, then shifted it sideways, examining another.
    “It seems, however, that Mr. Wakefield attacked your family because he believed you, Keern Herrington, raped his daughter.”
    Anger rocketed through Keern at Shena’s vicious lie, but he