Page 5 of An Inconvenient Vow

She let her cool eye travel impartially over the listening audience. She was not sure how many were acquainted with her own family troubles. Most of them, apart from the servants, were not local, for they were nobles who had traveled far and wide to attend the wedding.

“My sister’s reputation is stainless. Doubtless, this knave saw a chance to inflict more damage upon our family name this way. Or mayhap, he simply mistook the bedchamber window in his nighttime vigils creeping about in our shrubbery. Perhaps he just meant to add some additional spice to his tale, by adding in a cuckold when relaying it to the drinkers at The Blue Boar.”

There were gasps and a muffled laugh at her cutting remarks, and the magistrate whipped around at once to seek out the miscreant. Everyone stared back solemnly. Sabina had the oddest suspicion that it was Sir Leland Ellis who had laughed. He was watching her now with amusement and an appreciative gleam in his eye. Her bosom heaved. How dare he find this a source of amusement! she seethed. Her sister’s life! Her family’s reputation!

The questor and magistrate clearly shared her suspicions for they were also now glaring at Sir Leland. They had not appreciated the reminder of the role the tavern had played in the proceedings. She risked a glance at the proud Sir Jeffree, who still stood rigid with shock, no doubt at her intervention at the eleventh hour of this wicked plot. Likely he was struck dumb that she would dare to mount a defense against such exalted company and fight back. Well, he was wrong!

Sabina took a steadying breath. She needed to remain calm in the eye of the storm. Lifting her chin, she turned back to the magistrate who had given a polite cough.

“Your tale, Mistress Hendry is an interesting one,” he said. “Yet I see a flaw. Why should Sir Jeffree mislead Sir Leland by telling him it was the younger sister he was trysting with?” he asked. “Answer me that!”

“As if he would look twice at you!” Alfred put in spitefully.

Sabina felt her color ebb and flow at this jibe, for well she knew Isemay was the beauty of the family and not she. Still, her voice was steady when she replied gravely, “As to that sir, I am afraid I cannot say. My sister is generally considered far more beauteous than I. Perhaps Sir Jeffree did not wish to own his lover was so plain of face.”

A murmur went up at that and Sabina knew she had struck the right note. Most men here could well understand such a face-saving lie and Sir Jeffree was known most of all for his monstrous pride.

“Sir Jeffree?” the official probed. There was a heavy silence. Sabina took a deep breath and brought herself to glance once more at Sir Jeffree who was now, she noticed, brick red. She thought it was with anger, and certainly, the glance he turned on her was full of bitter recrimination and loathing.

“I hardly know what to say, save this,” he said through gritted teeth. “That Mistress Isemay Burrell is innocent of all these false accusations.”

“Jeffree, my boy!” It was the Duke of Bethencourt who cried this as Isemay openly wept with relief. Sabina wanted to go and comfort her, but she forced herself to remain rooted to the spot. There may be more questions, more lies to tell before her sister’s honor was restored. She would not take her seat until she knew Isemay was in the clear. Straightening her spine, she stared straight ahead, ignoring the hue and cry all around her.

3

Jeffree was fuming. He could not believe what his life had descended to in the past hour. Now everyone thought he had been sporting in bed with the elder sister while boasting of bedding the younger! He looked ridiculous and the blow to his pride could not be borne. His name bandied about and sullied in the most degrading manner possible. And what’s more, in front of his entire family! He could slaughter Leland! He still might.

He glowered at the bastard now, as he stood listening in sardonic amusement to something the court officials were saying to him. He did not look remotely shamefaced about the role he had played. In three steps, Jeffree could seize a good hold of his neck and shake him like a dog with a rat. He had always been the bigger and stronger of the two of them.

“Hold Jeffree,” his godfather cautioned, shrewdly guessing his thoughts. He kept a hand clapped to Jeffree’s shoulder in an iron grip, but they both knew that would not hold him if he truly went for Leland. “You still need to keep a cool head about you, my boy,” Sir Charles continued. “We are not clear of the woods yet.”

Jeffree whipped his head around to pin the older man with a savage glare. “I am aware of that!” he answered furiously. “The repercussions from this day will likely never die down!”

“Look,” the older man cautioned, nodding toward the three black-robed court members. “They will expect to exact some punishment for the wrong-doing they believe they have uncovered this day. You can bribe them, it is true, but you must wait for an opportune time. For the moment at least, you must appear to accept their ruling.”

Jeffree bristled. “I am not the one deserving of punishment!” he pointed out angrily. “That would be Leland and that false bloody witness of his!”

Sir Charles clicked his tongue sympathetically. “You know Leland of old. My son was ever a wild, rash youth.”

“Youth?” Jeffree was incredulous. Leland was twenty-four years of age. “He’s only four years younger than me!”

“I can understand why he thought to intervene,” Sir Charles spoke thoughtfully. “But alas, this scheme was as ill-advised as the majority of Leland’s stratagems.”

Infuriated, Sir Jeffree shrugged his mentor’s bony hand from his shoulder. “Ill-advised?” he repeated in thunderstruck tones. “Good gods man, he has dragged my name through the mud and if I don’t end up in a pillory or under sentence for a flogging, it will be no thanks to him!”

Sir Charles opened his mouth, but Jeffree was in no mood to hear his cautious counsel. Losing all patience, Jeffree strode over to where the bridal party was stood arguing with one another while the court officials stood looking on in disapproval.

“If you will only come away with us now, Isemay,” the mother was imploring her youngest daughter. “And leave this business to be settled. His Lordship will surely want to fix when your vows are now to be made.”

The bride shuddered and wrenched her arm free of her clinging mother. “Indeed, I will not, Mother!” she answered with spirit. A good deal more spirit than Jeffree thought was proper. He would have thought, under the circumstances, she would have been better employed swooning somewhere in a corner as became a modest maiden. At the very least, she ought to have been weeping at her betrothed’s side, begging his forgiveness for the wretched spectacle the wedding had descended into.

Where was his uncle anyway? A quick scan of the hall showed the duke still being fussed over by his steward. Even from here, Jeffree could hear the duke’s peevish tone of voice as he complained of his ill-treatment. His ill-treatment? No one had accused him of being a lecherous adulterer! At least… he supposed that was not precisely the charge. The graceless wench had claimed herself a widow. Where was she anyway?

Jeffree surveyed the gaggle in front of him. The Burrells seemed to be staging quite a scene. Even the officials could not seem to impose any order on them. The bride had two spots of high color in both her cheeks and her eyes sparkled with indignation. “You think I will languish on the sidelines while my sister, who has championed me this day, is meted out with harsh punishment?” she asked shrilly.

“Isemay!” her father replied, glancing around nervously. “Calm yourself, child! What will this fine company think?”

“I no longer care what they think!” Isemay responded hotly, then burst into impassioned tears.