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Chapter 3

3

WILLIAM

E dmund opened the door, and William strode out of The Coach and Lantern, pulling on his traveling gloves. It required concentration, for the gloves had not been made with his signet ring in mind.

"Where is the carriage?" Edmund asked. "If we do not hurry, we shall be caught in the rain."

The front of the inn afforded a view toward the market cross, around which various stalls were set up for merchants to sell their wares. The traveling chaise was nowhere to be seen, however, despite Edmund ordering it to be brought around a full twenty minutes ago.

"My deepest, most regretful apologies, Your Grace," the innkeeper said, hurrying up to him and executing a sequence of obsequious bows William found deeply embarrassing. "Our ostler has fallen ill, which has sent things into a bit of chaos."

"Hence the maid at the horses' heads last night," William said, as much to himself as to anyone else.

The innkeeper nodded. "Highly unusual, I know, and I hope we have not given offense. I assure you I spoke to her firmly when I discovered she'd had the audacity to enter your private parlor, Your Grace."

William cleared his throat, avoiding Edmund's eye. "She was returning something to me. She should be rewarded, not scolded, for her pains. I hope you will see to it that she receives this." He handed the man a small sack of coins.

"Of course," the innkeeper said meekly. "Unfortunately, she seems to have disappeared, which explains the delay in your carriage being brought around. Perhaps she too has become ill. In any case, I came to inform you that your horses are being prepared, Your Grace."

William gave a nod, and the innkeeper bowed himself away.

Edmund looked at William with a frown. "What did he mea—" His words stopped at the sound of men's voices nearby.

William turned toward them and went still. Three men pulled the maid from last night toward the square. She held her head high, but there was a gash on her cheek, and her hands were bound in front of her with thin rope. Around her neck was a horse's halter, which was held by the tallest of the three men.

"What the devil?" William said.

His words brought the maid's head around, and their gazes met for a brief moment. His heart skipped at the sight of those blue eyes. The pride and humiliation warring within them before she looked away pricked him to the core.

A young boy came dashing out of the inn yard, and William seized his arm. "What are they doing, boy?"

He looked up at William as though the question was the height of stupidity. "Sellin' her, m'lord!" He broke free and continued his progress toward the market square, where the maid and her entourage were beginning to attract attention and a crowd.

Edmund's gaze met William's, the same shock reflected there.

"Surely, he must be mistaken," Edmund said.

William's brows drew together. "There is nothing sure about it." He strode in the direction of the gathering audience.

"Your Grace," Edmund said, running to keep up with him. "Please. Consider carefully. It is best not to embroil yourself in the affair."

William stopped in his tracks and faced his friend. "You wish me to stand by and do nothing while a woman is sold like livestock?"

Edmund grimaced, his hands fiddling with the brim of the top hat he held. "Yes." He charged on before William could reply. "But only because I believe that ultimately, it is in the best interest of everyone."

William's frown deepened. "Everyone except that maid, you mean to say. It is an archaic and barbaric practice, Edmund."

"I am entirely in agreement with you. It is abhorrent. And once you are settled into your position and have had a chance to prove yourself in the House of Lords, you will be in a place to effect far-reaching change on the subject if you wish for it. But this?" He gestured to the market cross, where the stalls were being left by customer and vendor alike, everyone bowing to their curiosity. "Your reputation as a duke is in its infancy, Your Grace. It is fragile, and I fear involving yourself in a vulgar situation such as this one may prove difficult to overcome."

William's lips pressed together as he considered Edmund's words. They had discussed this topic—at length. Difficult as it had been, officially becoming the Duke of Rockwood was the simple part. Being accepted as such by his fellow peers? That was another matter entirely, and heaven knew there was plenty of resistance to it. People did not take kindly to someone they had never heard of ascending to the highest non-royal title in the kingdom. The fact that William's brother, Silas, had fled to France not so very long ago after being accused of murder was certainly no help.

"Hear ye, hear ye," yelled out a man's voice.

The maid and the three men stood on the stone base of the market cross, several feet above the heads of their onlookers.

"We bring ye here today," said one of the three men, "ta offer up the finest wench in all the land ta one of ye lucky men wishin' for a wife."

A number of cheers went up, and William's stomach turned.

"'Tis a fine wench," the man said, "as John here can assure ye."

The man named John nodded. The maid's head was turned to the side, her eyes trained away from the onlooking crowd, her nostrils flared and her jaw clenched.

"She be young and strong," the man continued. "Fit for work…and play." He smiled suggestively.

William gritted his teeth. How could he possibly stand here and do nothing while she was humiliated in such a way? Particularly after she had done him such a service last night.

He could not. Those blue eyes would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He strode toward the crowd, shouldering through as the man started the bidding at ten shillings. Three hands raised, and the bid quickly went to twelve, then stalled.

"Come, lads," the man chided. "We all know she's worth a few pounds at least."

"Then why'd ye start at ten shillin's, Sam?" a woman in the crowd with a baby on her hip asked .

"Only look." Sam tugged up the skirt of the maid's dress, revealing her worn boots and stockinged legs.

She tried to yank the skirt down with her bound hands with only marginal success, and a few approving murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"Can she cook?" a man who must have been nearly sixty asked through a mouth full of missing and tobacco-stained teeth.

"Aye," Sam said. "And clean and keep house and tend ta horses."

"She was a fine lady's maid afore," John called out, leading to a hum of chatter in the crowd.

The sixty-year-old's hand rose in the air. "Fourteen shillin's!"

"Fourteen shillin's, he says," Sam repeated. "Do I hear sixteen?"

There was the buzz of discussion but no such offer.

"Fourteen shillin's goin' once," Sam said.

"Enough!" William called out as he reached the front of the crowd.

Every head turned in his direction, including the maid's. Her wide eyes met his, then turned away in humiliation. He wished he could make her understand there was no shame for her in any of this; it all belonged to her husband and his disgraceful friends.

"Ye're wishin' ta bid, m'lord?" Sam asked, his gaze awed and hopeful.

William glanced at Edmund, who had opened his mouth to correct Sam's manner of addressing a duke, but he shut it again, no doubt realizing that making everyone aware of William's title was not at all conducive to their goals.

"Far from it," William said. "I wish to put a stop to this entire business. "

"With respect, m'lord," Sam said, "ye've no right to. She's John's wench, and 'e can do with 'er as 'e sees fit. Ain't that right, John?"

"Aye," John said.

"He has somethin' ta sell," Sam said, "and there's people willin' ta buy."

A hand grasped William's shoulder, and Edmund came up beside him. "Your Grace," he whispered. "Please."

"Fourteen shillin's, was it, sir?" Sam asked the old man with the stained teeth.

The man nodded, an almost hungry look in his eyes as he stared at the maid.

William clenched his jaw. Under no circumstances could he allow that man to buy her.

"I will pay," William said loudly.

Edmund's hand tightened on his shoulder. "You cannot," he hissed.

"I must," William replied through gritted teeth.

Sam's mouth pulled into a wide grin, and he glanced at John and his other friend before turning to William. "Will ye now, m'lord?"

"Yes. We will arrange things once everyone here has dispersed."

"You heard the man!" Sam called to the audience. "Go! Begone!"

With grumbling, the crowd began to clear out.

"Your Grace," Edmund said, a pained expression on his face. "You must understand how this appears…"

"Like I am saving a woman from humiliation?"

"Like you are buying a wife!"

"Do not be ridiculous," William said. "You know as well as I that there is nothing legal about wife-selling or wife-buying. "

Edmund shook his head. "I do. These people do not . They accept it, and that matters when it comes to your reputation."

William brushed off the unease that came with his friend's words. "And am I to care for the opinions of such people?"

"Word travels, Your Grace."

"I am merely trying to stop this madness, Edmund. To free this woman from a terrible situation."

"But at what cost?"

William's gaze settled on the maid. Perhaps he was being unwise. After all, he did not know her. She might be every bit the rapscallion her husband was.

But looking at her and thinking on the events of the night before, William could not give credit to such an idea. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment, but her chin was held high. It made his chest tight to see.

"Well, then, m'lord," Sam said, pulling her over while John and the other man trailed behind. "'Tis just us now, as ye see."

"I wish to speak to John," William said, turning his focus to the man wearing the flat-brimmed hat on the dais. "You are her husband, are you not?"

"Aye, m'lord," John said.

William surveyed him. He looked to be a few years older than William, with curly, auburn hair and ruddy cheeks made even redder by drink. How in the world had he persuaded the woman beside him to become his wife?

And what should William pay to relieve him of her? Not that money could do such a thing, but John believed it would, and that was key to securing her liberty. William did not wish to encourage or enable the man or his friends in their debauchery by offering a great sum. He merely wished to liberate the maid.

"I will give you a guinea," William said as a few scattered raindrops fell .

Sam stepped forward. "Make it a guinea and six shillings, m'lord? We swear she'll please ye."

William fixed his hard stare upon the man, and Sam retreated beside the maid again. William's hand itched to punch his face, but he restrained himself. It would be difficult to do situated so far below as he now was. And Edmund would have an apoplexy.

"I will give you a guinea," William repeated.

John glanced at Sam, who gave a disappointed nod.

"Very well, m'lord," John said.

"My purse, Edmund," William said, keeping his eyes on John.

Edmund sighed softly and a moment later handed John a coin. He took it and inspected it, then bit down upon it. "'Tis real," he assured Sam.

William rolled his eyes.

"Congratulations, m'lord," Sam said. "Ye've bought yerself a wife." And with that, he pushed her forward.

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