Crispin’s eyes never left his face. “Your sister gave me her virtue and accepted my ring. We are, to all intents and purposes, already wed. Will the Earl of Wolvesley state this is not so?”
Jonah’s gaze flickered.
“The Earl of Wolvesley, your father, is the judiciary, is that not so?” Crispin smiled cruelly.
“The Earl of Wolvesley puts the happiness of his children above all else,” Jonah stated.
“Indeed. Does he put it higher than his family’s reputation?”
Jonah’s eyes glittered menacingly. “Are you threatening me, de Gough?”
“Finally.” Crispin widened his stance and threw back his shoulders. “The man realizes what is happening. Aye,Lord Jonah, I am indeed threatening you. If I do not get my way in this, every family in England will know how your sister laid back in the straw and spread her thighs for me.”
If Jonah had not leaped for him, Adam would have. Crispin’s coarse words had reawakened his senses, like a jug of cold water flung over his head. But the fury in the young lord’s face gave Adam pause to think.
Closing his ears to Esme’s distress, Adam pulled the two men away from one another. “He is not worth it,” he told Jonah, shortly, giving him time to find his balance as Crispin stumbled against the table.
Jonah straightened his tunic, his breath coming fast. “I have never wanted to see a man’s head roll before this day.”
But Adam’s mind was speeding quickly in another direction. “Lady Esme accepted your ring, you say?” he demanded.
Crispin nodded. In parting the grappling men, Adam had swung his fist at the knight’s face. A steady stream of deep red blood now flowed from a cut on his lip.
“And you wanted to marry her?” Adam laughed, even though the situation was far from humorous. “You certainly seem possessed of the desire to marry her now.”
Crispin nodded again, his eyes blazing with fire. If his hands were not bound, Adam knew he would have been obliged to reach for his sword before now—for self-defense if naught else.
“So why did you ride away from Wolvesley?”
His question fell into silence. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Esme swivel her head toward him, her expression wondering.
He pushed his advantage. “Why did you not insist she marry you the next day? If the lady herself was willing?”
Crispin tried to spit away some blood. “The timing did not suit.”
Jonah laughed, hollowly. “You all but had the hand of Lady Esme de Neville. A prize far beyond your reach. And you say the timing did not suit?”
“There was something I must do. But that is of no consequence. As I say, Esme must marry me now, else face public humiliation.”
The knight’s voice was steady, but for the briefest of seconds, his gaze flew beyond his inquisitors to the tapestried chairs by the fire.
Adam turned slowly. There was nothing of note about the chairs, save a dark shape at the foot of one of them.
His pulse quickened. “What is that?” he asked.
“His satchel.” Esme was already hurrying toward it. “He brought it in last night.”
“Leave it.” Crispin’s eyes had widened with alarm. He lurched sideways to evade Jonah’s grasp and ran with surprising swiftness across the floor.
Adam stuck out a leg to trip him up before he made much headway. As the knight sprawled across the floorboards, Adam finally unsheathed his sword and held it at his chest.
“Stay where you are,” he ordered, trying not to take too much pleasure in the moment. “Esme, search his bag.”
“You have no authority to do so,” Crispin raged.
“That’s the trouble with people like us,” Jonah commented mildly. “We always think we have therightto do whatever we want.”
Adam did not allow himself to smile and consequently, his muscles to relax. He stayed focused, even as his mind whirred.
