Woman of the Month - Chapter 5

5. Insult

“The lawsuit filed by that black slave woman,”

Phineas spoke, watching Penelope with a calm face. His voice was dripping with meanness and triumph.

“That’s your doing, isn’t it?”

Phineas Rockervilt said again, his tone full of vile satisfaction.

“…What?”

Penelope stopped mid-step as she climbed the stairs, startled. She swallowed dryly to steady her quivering voice.

“It’s been making waves recently. A black slave dared to appeal after beating her master to death.”

“So?”

“No lawyer in Virginia would take that case. No fool would jump into a losing battle. Besides, what black slave has the money to pay legal fees?”

“……”

“Yet, the black woman filed an appeal. Out of curiosity, I personally went to the court today and read the full petition.”

“……”

“Surprisingly, the petition was fairly well-written.”

“……”

“What could a slave, who can barely write, possibly have done to submit that to the court?”

“Why does that matter? What makes you think it’s my doing, Phineas?”

Penelope cut off Phineas’s slow insinuations.

Recently, Newport’s hottest issue was a murder and corpse disposal case involving a black slave named Celia Rock. At the age of just fourteen, Celia had become the slave of an elderly widower in his sixties and had endured years of sexual exploitation.

She had borne two children by her master and, while carrying a third, continued to suffer repeated assaults. Exhausted by endless violations, Celia finally snapped and beat the panting old man to death with a club.

To cover up the act, she burned his body and disposed of it. However, Celia Rock’s crime was soon discovered, and she was brought to trial for murder.

Virginia law stated: “It is a crime to defile any woman through unlawful coercion or confinement against her will.” Unfortunately, this law did not apply to Celia. The court ruled that black women were not included in the term “any woman”—they were not considered people.

The jurors who determined Celia’s guilt or innocence were all white men who owned slaves. The prosecutor and judge who issued the charges and verdict were the same.

Celia Rock was found guilty and sentenced to death. Because the victim was a black slave and not a human, her motives were not granted any leniency.

“You meddled in something similar last time.”

Phineas sneered, lowering his voice. Penelope bit her lip, barely keeping her expression from crumbling.

Phineas was right. A year ago, Penelope had caused a scandal in Forkin. From her perspective, it was the right thing to do as a human being, but everyone else had criticized and reprimanded her.

What Penelope did was not easily forgiven. If not for Marcus Rockervilt’s wealth, she might have been rotting in prison by now.

Virginia had a peculiar Fugitive Slave Act, which mandated that runaway slaves be returned to their owners and punished anyone who helped or hid a slave.

At that time, Penelope had sheltered a runaway slave hiding in Forkin. That slave, named Margaret Molton, had also borne children after being raped by her white master. After spending over a decade in that hell, she fled with her children, hoping to escape her beast-like existence.

Slave hunters relentlessly tracked Margaret to Forkin and found her. Rather than return to her old life, she chose death. Surrounded by armed hunters, Margaret Molton killed her children and then stabbed herself.

Tragically, Margaret survived alone. Watching her battered body being dragged to trial, Penelope, a law student, had written a petition and a defense to help her. However, Penelope’s petition and defense never reached the court. Brianna, Marcus, and Phineas Rockervilt had blocked her.

Other than gaining entry into high society, there was little in Virginia that money couldn’t solve. Marcus ensured that Penelope’s history of hiding a black slave was erased, and her involvement in the trial disappeared entirely. Margaret, too, remained silent to protect Penelope, the only person who had reached out to her.

While Penelope was confined, Margaret Molton’s verdict was delivered. Margaret was sentenced to imprisonment, though she was not charged with murder for killing her children. Since black slaves and their descendants were considered property and not people, Margaret was imprisoned for escape and property destruction instead.

“I read the petition and defense you wrote back then. I sneaked a look before Father handed them to the lawyer.”

“……”

“When I saw the appeal for this murder case in the newspaper, your writing immediately came to mind.”

“……”

“I recognized the overlap in frequently used words right away. Even the way you tilt the periods outward is the same.”

“You’re mistaken.”

“Oh, really?”

Phineas mocked her response with a sneer.

“Yes. Phineas Rockervilt, it’s your mistake.”

Staring directly at Phineas, Penelope continued, “The legal terms used in petitions are limited. As a university student who’s never opened a book, you wouldn’t know this, but courtroom language is generally similar.”

“Ha!”

“And you’re not the only one with a habit of tilting periods. If you compare the handwriting of employees at Rockervilt Trust, you’ll find plenty of matches.”

“……”

“Most importantly, I’ve been in Forkin the whole time. You can check the dormitory entry records. Given how Mother investigated my whereabouts with a fine-tooth comb after last year’s incident, you know this better than anyone, don’t you?”

Phineas Rockervilt’s face twisted into an ugly scowl. He looked like a spoiled child sulking after a toy had been snatched away before playtime.

“Move aside.”

Penelope gestured with her chin at Phineas, her dark blue eyes glaring at him like the deep sea.

“I’ll let it slide this time, but if you pull another stunt, I won’t stand by, Penelope. Do you know how much Father spent cleaning up the messes you caused? Enough to buy a house in Newport.”

Phineas ground his teeth as he delivered his warning.

“…I’m well aware.”

“It’s not enough that we took in a beggar and her daughter. We also overlook your extravagance, forgive your foolishness, and tolerate your antics. Isn’t Rockervilt the greatest philanthropist of this age? Don’t tell me you think your mother’s body is worth all that.”

“Say whatever you want about me, but don’t insult my mother, Phineas Rockervilt!”

Penelope clenched her fists and shot back.

Her mother, Brianna, had married Marcus Rockervilt when Penelope was a child. Phineas Rockervilt, born just a few months earlier than Penelope, had never accepted Brianna, who had taken the place of his deceased mother.

The cruelty of children knew no bounds. At first, Phineas hated everything about them—sitting at the same table, Penelope speaking to him, or Brianna walking past him. He frequently hurled insults, threw objects to break them, and even spat in their faces.

Yet Phineas Rockervilt remained the only son of Marcus Rockervilt and the heir to Rockervilt Trust. If anything happened to Marcus, it was Phineas who would be responsible for Brianna and Penelope.

For this reason, Brianna had no choice but to appease Phineas. Despite being her daughter, Penelope rarely received her mother’s care. Brianna was too busy bowing to Phineas’s whims.

“Oh, Penelope. I didn’t mean to insult your mother. I’m not even interested enough to bother insulting her. I wouldn’t want to share a woman with Father. I’m no Oedipus.”

Penelope trembled with humiliation. Phineas leaned close, his face right beside her ear, and whispered with a sickening grin.

“The only woman I want to insult is you, Penelope Rockervilt.”

***