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Authors: Deeanne Gist

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Drew stiffened. “Where would you have me keep them, Hopkin? With the goat?”

The governor reddened.

Tucker quickly stepped forward. “Hopkin, I recommend the council discuss this matter at length before taking any undue action.”

“Undue action?” Emmett screeched. “We dare not leave these immoral creatures with the unattended ladies fer even a moment. No tellin’ what deviltry would take place in our absence.”

Josh grabbed Drew’s forearm, forcing him to check his inclination to knock out the few teeth left in Emmett’s mouth.

“Enough!” Tucker exclaimed. “You are not a member of this council, Goodman Emmett, and have no voice here. Be silent.”

Emmett narrowed his eyes.

“Hopkin,” Tucker continued, “I insist we discuss this more thoroughly.”

Hopkin wiped a bit of spittle from the corners of his mouth. “There is not much to discuss. These men are living in a climate that breeds corruption. Regardless of the character you insist they have, the fact remains that they find themselves in this situation through their own unsavory actions. That alone makes me question your opinion of their character.”

“Unsavory?” Tucker asked. “The whole settlement was playing cards yesterday. Shall we pay them all a visit this morning as well?”

“Do not patronize me. No other man in this colony lives with unmarried females in an unsupervised fashion. Your outspokenness troubles me greatly. Perhaps I need to write our gracious king and suggest a replacement or two.” Hopkin met each councilman’s eyes in turn. “Any other objections?”

Drew looked to Tucker’s colleagues for a show of support. None was forthcoming.

Expelling a wad of phlegm from his mouth, the governor turned back to Drew. “Under no conditions will the council of this settlement allow you to harbor these women in a licentious fashion.”

Drew’s breathing grew deep. “There is nothing licentious in keeping a cook and a woman to watch Sally.”

“There is if you defile ’em!” Emmett shouted.

The council broke out in more murmurs. Tucker grabbed Emmett’s shirtfront.

“Call them out here,” Hopkin demanded over the confusion. “We would have a look at these
servants
you keep.”

“And if I refuse?”

Silence fell upon the group. Tucker’s grip on Emmett loosened.

“O’Connor, we would have a look at these servants or you will stand before this council on charges of misconduct and risk losing all you and your father before you have worked for.”

Drew’s jaw tightened. Constance and Mary stepped out of the cottage. There was no doubting they’d heard every word through the cottage’s uncovered window.

Drew clinched his fists as Hopkin’s gaze crawled over each woman’s body with slow deliberation. The chirping chatter of the blue jays and playful antics of the squirrels mocked him and the others gathered in the clearing.

Hopkin shifted his attention back to Drew. “You and your brother will either marry these women or you will have your arms broken and your tongues bored through with an awl. Then you will be banished from Virginia, relinquishing any privileges of freedom in this country. Fornication will
not
be tolerated by this council.”

chapter
F
IVE
   

DUMBFOUNDED, CONSTANCE COULD only stare at Hopkin.

“Morden? Have you your Bible?” he asked.

The large man with rounded cheeks and troubled blue eyes stepped forward. “I have it.”

“Then let us get on with it.” Hopkin turned to Drew. “Decide which woman you will wed and which your brother weds.”

Drew’s face cleared of all expression. “I agree to marry one, but Josh cannot. He is betrothed, with the contract negotiated and signed.”

Hopkin narrowed his eyes. “Betrothed to whom?”

“Lady Hannah Eastlick of Bowden,” Josh said. Astonished, Constance snapped her attention to him.

“Why would a lady consent to marry a simple farmer?” Hopkin sneered.

“I have the contract,” he replied.

“I would see it.”

Josh stepped inside the cottage, then returned with contract in hand. Hopkin briefly reviewed it. “The date set is not until next spring.”

“I plan to return for her after the tobacco’s been harvested and packed.”

Hopkin handed the contract back. “I like it not. Even with your brother married, the situation asks for wrongdoing.”

“Be that as it may,” Drew interjected, “I will be eligible to chaperon once I wed. I choose Lady Morrow.” He turned to face her. “Will you be my wife?”

“I cannot.” She turned quickly to the governor, bobbing in a curtsy.

“Governor Hopkin, I am Lady Constance Caroline Morrow, daughter to the Right Honorable the Earl of Greyhame, My Lord Randall Christian Morrow.” She reveled only for a moment in the startled silence that passed before she continued. “The captain of the
Randolph
kidnapped me.

I am not a felon, nor was I commissioned to come here voluntarily as a bride.”

Hopkin lifted his brows. “Kidnapped? I heard nothing of a kidnapping.” He turned to Drew. “What do you know of this?”

“The captain had no transport papers for her, and Lady Morrow claims he took her by force.”

Emmett shoved his way to the front. “What! More likely than not, she’s a lady’s maid trying to better her position here.”

“Perhaps,” Drew said. “Perhaps not. But can we take the chance? What happens if she is indeed the Earl of Greyhame’s daughter? We would have the king’s displeasure for certain.”

“After Marie Bernard’s escapade? I think not,” Emmett argued. Hopkin frowned. “What escapade?”

“Miss Bernard was a lady’s maid to one of the queen’s women,” Emmett said.

“What has that to do with us?”

Emmett hooked his thumbs beneath his armpits. “Miss Bernard filched a valuable jewel from one of the royal apartments and was sentenced to death fer her trouble.”

“Get to the point,” Hopkin urged.

“Well, due to some fancy talkin’ by her former mistress, the sentence was changed to transportation. Miss Bernard was deported and sold right here in Virginia to Goodman Bushell. After a brief time, the girlie escaped and made her way up to Watertown.”

“And?”

Emmett rocked back on his heels. “This is the inter’sting part. Thinking herself well and truly free, she claimed the title of Princess Jeannette Francoise Sophie, declaring herself a sister of our dear queen.”

Hopkin snorted. “How could anyone mistake a runaway for a princess?”

“Miss Bernard was a wily one, she was,” Emmett replied. “She’d planned to run, so she hid away a few jewels and a medallion portrait of Her Majesty. It was some impression she made. Even promised promotions to them fools up there.” His matted beard quivered. “Well, her game was up when Goodman Bushell’s messenger came, raising a loud hue and cry fer
her serene highness
.”

Constance felt the councilmen eyeing her. Nay, judging her. If she had managed to have a private audience with the governor, she felt she could have convinced him of her situation. But she’d been around her father’s friends enough to know when men and their political decisions are under the watchful eye of others, they very rarely make sound choices.

She sighed. There was naught to do but focus on Emmett and hope her exasperation over his tale was evident.

He cackled, then patted his rail-like frame. “She was hauled from her fine quarters in Watertown and back to Bushell’s, where she’s servin’ the rest of her term.”

“If you’re so certain Miss Morrow is no lady,” Drew asked, “then why did you pay a whole hogshead for her?”

Emmett jutted out his chin. “ ’Cause a lady’s maid is better’n some filthy felon.”

Josh straightened. “Are you maligning Miss Robins?”

Emmett took a step back. “No, I’m just saying this talk of kidnapping is pure nonsense, and the girlie in question should be given back to me.” Back to him? Emmett thought to get her back? Absolutely not. She wouldn’t allow it.

“Enough, Emmett,” Hopkin said. “Let me consult with the council.” The governor and his men stepped to the edge of the clearing for a brief conference, their voices rising and falling in waves.

Constance bit her lip. They must take Drew’s word on the matter. What other choice did they have? Mary glanced at her with a tight smile.

Walking back to the cottage, Hopkin hitched up his breeches. “You may keep Miss Morrow until her story can be investigated, but meanwhile, you’ll have to marry this other one.”

Drew’s shoulders stiffened. “Miss Robins?”

“Yes.”

Drew and Josh exchanged a look.

Mary paled, then took a quivering breath. “I cannot marry, good sir.” Hopkin scowled. “What’s this?”

Mary visibly swallowed.

“Speak up, girl!”

She jerked, stumbling back a step. “I’m already married, I am.”

“What a great bunch of tripe,” Emmett exclaimed. “If I can’t have back the one I originally bought, then at least let me have this wagtail. By trow, just give her to me and be done with it!”

“Married!” Hopkin roared. “To whom?”

Mary looked at her feet. “ ’Tis true. My man was press-ganged into the Navy two years past. I ain’t seen nor heard from him since.”

“She lies!” Emmett screeched.

“He cannot marry her, Hopkin,” Colonel Tucker insisted, looking to the other councilmen. They nodded their encouragement. “Even with the tiniest chance at truth, the sin of marrying one while still married to another would be too great. It is out of the question.”

Hopkin whirled on Mary. “How did you get on a bridal ship if you were already wed!”

Mary cringed, falling back several more steps. Josh moved forward, partially shielding her with his body. “She’s a felon, Hopkin. Her sentence was deportment. She’d no choice in the matter.”

“What do
you
know of this?”

“Only that I contracted her for Drew and when we arrived at the cottage, she told my brother what she just told you.”

Hopkin’s face mottled. “What was your husband’s name?” he barked to Mary.

Josh laid a hand against her waist, pressing her ever so slightly forward.

“Obadiah Robins,” she answered.

“That could be anyone,” Emmett cried. “Her brother or father or anyone.”

“Occupation?” Hopkin asked.

“A street sweeper.”

“Oh, fer—” Emmett murmured.

“How long were you married?”

“Four years.”

“Children?”

“Two.”

“Where are they?”

A discernible pause. “Dead.”

This last was said barely above a whisper. Constance clasped her hands together. Poor Mary. It was clear she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Why were you in Newgate Prison?”

“I was accused of committing perjury, sir.”

“She was forced to testify against a lord,” Josh said. “The lord’s influence decided the outcome of the trial before Miss Robins ever stepped into Old Bailey.”

Hopkin turned to Josh. “If I want any more of your input, I will ask for it.”

Hopkin’s anger was there for all to see, building as if it were a living, breathing entity. He turned to Drew, searing him with his gaze. “I am this close to banishing you, your brother, and your bawd-strutting women.” He pointed his pudgy finger directly at Constance. “That one. You will either marry that one or sell her back to Emmett. And if I hear one single dispute from your lips, it will mean the end of your freedom here in the colonies, and not only yours by troth, but every member of your family’s—extended or otherwise.”

Tension radiated from Drew’s frame.

“Morden, open your Bible,” Hopkin ordered. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

“Excuse me,” Constance whispered.

Drew’s head slowly pivoted toward her, along with the rest of the men present.

“Might I have a word with you?” she asked Drew. His eyebrows lifted.

“It will only take a moment … sir.”

He looked past her to Josh. Josh shrugged. Drew turned to Hopkin.

“May I have a word with the lady?”

“It’s highly unusual.”

“So is this whole situation,” Drew replied.

“You have two minutes.”

Nodding, Drew propelled her into the cottage. Once inside, he held his finger over his lips and indicated she go to the corner of the cottage furthest from the door and window. She barely noted Sally’s napping form before turning back to him. “I have a proposition for you,” she whispered.

“By my faith, get on with it.”

“Do you want to marry me?”

“I want to keep my tobacco farm, and I want not for my family to be banished,” he answered.

“Good. Here is what I propose. You provide me with the protection of your name until my father can be notified. I, in turn, will help you around the farm. Of course, I would …” She averted her eyes.

He frowned. “Explain yourself.”

Fingering the sleeve of her gown, she moistened her lips. “Well … what I mean to say is we’d be married in name, but we wouldn’t, we needn’t—” She took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is, well, we would forgo …” She twirled her hand in the air, indicating one corner of the room.

BOOK: A Bride Most Begrudging
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