“There are women within this home—frightened women who do not deserve to be subjected to your taunts.” Her voice was deep and angry but even. “It is I who stirs your anger, not them. But for their sake, I ask for the chance to speak.” She took a deep breath and continued. “You have seen a print that suggests I murdered my husband. You believe I expect to rise above the law.” A murmur swelled in the crowd. She held up her other hand in a plea for silence. She set back her shoulders. “I did not kill my husband.” She glanced down. A young woman about her age leaned over the iron fence. The woman’s eyes burned with hatred and distrust. Lavinia’s throat dried. Truth, truth, they need truth. “I did not like my husband.” “Who does?” A woman from the middle of the swarm yelled. Snickers rippled as Lavinia continued, “However, God and law bound me to him.
