Page 43 of Hooked

Only the magistrate remained calm. “Let her go, Reeve.” The magistrate’s words were spoken with undeniable authority. Still, it took the constable who held me a few beats more to release me. I sensed his hesitation to give in, despite the demands of his superior. He gave me a little shove before letting me go and stepping back.

I stood there, shaking in defeat.

“Come, Cecily,” Sir James said, a hand outstretched toward me.

I quickly scurried to his side, desperate for any safety he could offer. He placed a large comforting hand on my shoulder, then turned to the other men.

It suddenly struck me that these men were all still standing in the entryway. It was very rude of Sir James to make them wait there instead of installing them in the library or drawing room. I imagined it had been done on purpose, as an act of defiance. A defiance that would turn out to be as fruitless as my attempt at running.

“Now that your constable has manhandled my servant,” Sir James began with reproach, “would you kindly explain to me what has brought you here? Again? I thought the matter was settled, Captain Huckley.”

A smug smile curved the captain’s mouth. “As I explained when I was here before, Sir James, I have come to collect what is mine.” He pulled out a piece of parchment and brandished it before him. “I have a contract here signed by myself, Lady Wendolyn, and her guardians, agreeing to a marriage that has not yet taken place. I have been all too patient, and it is time for Lady Wendolyn to fulfill her obligation.”

The air was sucked from my lungs and I lost all feeling in my limbs as I watched Sir James step forward to take the contract in hand and look it over. The dent between his brows grew deeper and deeper, and I could only wilt where I stood as Captain Huckley turned his eyes to me, triumphant. “I have a home waiting for you, my darling. I wish to make you mistress of it, to start our life together. I wish to raise you from this degrading position and restore you to the life you were born to.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. The walls were falling in, crushing me under their weight. My chest tightened and it was difficult to breathe. Captain Huckley had brought the contract. He had brought a magistrate. I could not see a way out of this horror. Would I have to leave with him? Did that cursed contract mean that I would have to go with Captain Huckley now? This very day?

Sir James finally looked up from the contract, and the worry there nearly undid me. He shifted his attention to the magistrate. “Is this a legitimate contract, Magistrate?”

The magistrate chewed on his words for a moment, as though it pained him to respond. “It is, Sir James.”

He turned to me, true worry creasing his brow. “Is this your signature, Cecily?” James asked, obviously hoping that it wasn’t.

“Yes, but I didn’t sign it willingly. My uncle forced me—”

“Of course you would make that claim now, but we have no reason to believe it,” Huckley declared.

James looked to the lawman in desperation. “Magistrate?”

“I’m sorry, Sir James. The contract is clear. It must be abided by unless both parties agree to dissolve it.”

Captain Huckley clapped his hands together as if it was all happily settled. “And I agree to no such thing. I’ve waited nearly ten years for you, my darling. I have ever been loyal—to you.”

Anger slipped through my devastation and I glared at him. “Why couldn’t you have found someone else? Some other wife to torture?” I spat. It was wrong of me to wish him on someone else, especially knowing what had happened to his other wives, but it was difficult in that moment to care about anyone but myself.

The captain put on a look of patient understanding. “I know you believe the rumors. I know you’ve been influenced by those who wish to destroy my reputation.”

“I’ve been influenced by the fact you have three dead wives,” I protested, my vision blurring around the edges. “And I will not marry you!”

“But you must understand,” he continued, ignoring my protest. “I could not move on. I had lost too much already. I knew you were alive and well in Tethurn, and I let my pride get in the way of bringing you home then. I will not make that mistake again.” He crossed to me, picking up my hand from my side, which I yanked away, but he just grabbed it again and held it in a vice grip against his chest. “I’m sorry you’ve been poisoned against me, but in two weeks’ time, we will marry, and I will prove my devotion to you.” He pressed a firm kiss to my hand and a solitary tear streaked down my face as hopelessness settled into my chest.

I finally managed to extricate my hand from his and took a step back. “You cannot make me.” I tried to sound brave and sure, but my voice shook.

A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “Perhaps I cannot.” He nodded toward the magistrate. “But he can.”

I turned to the magistrate. “Surely I cannot be made to honor a contract that I was forced to sign.”

“Do you have proof that it was forced?” The magistrate asked, fruitless hope in his eyes.

“I ran away from home and became a servant to escape him! Surely that speaks to my desperation.”

“That was more than a year after the contract was signed,” Huckley argued. “Perhaps you had fallen for some young chap who convinced you to elope with him.”

A bitter scoff escaped my lips. “If that were true I’d been happily married right now. You found me in Tethurn; you know I was a servant.”

“There are all manner of people who could have convinced you to give me up. If you had been truly opposed, why not run away immediately after everything was signed?”

“Because I had nothing! I was a destitute child.”