Henry took my arm. “Let’s go, Selah,” he said, gently pulling me toward to door. This was enough to break the trance, and I turned to go with him.
We made it only a few steps when Fletcher suddenly rushed toward us, crying out like an enraged animal. Grabbing his dagger, Henry spun around just in time to plunge the long blade up into the soft tissue beneath Fletcher’s breastbone, straight into his heart. Blood gushed from the wound, turning his shirtfront crimson. The bleeding man looked at Henry with an expression of utter disbelief.
Before I could react, Fletcher’s body went slack and he sank to the floor, his own dagger clattering loudly against the wooden planks. My knees wobbled precariously, and I would have joined him on the floor if not for Henry. He caught me just as the other men rushed over.
“Send for a doctor!” Martin cried, apparently unaware that I was the closest thing Hopewell had in this capacity.
Ben knelt down and took Fletcher’s wrist. “There’s no need. The man’s already dead.”
“He was going right for Selah,” George said, staring down at the body. “Henry clearly acted defensively.”
“Yes, yes,” Ely agreed. “We’ve plenty of witnesses to verify what happened.”
George reached down to pull the dagger from Fletcher’s chest. Wiping the blade clean with a fresh handkerchief, he handed it to Henry. “The town’s already abuzz about the summons. Take Selah home before folks hear a man’s been killed. I’ll be over shortly to escort you to the tavern.”
Henry nodded curtly, and together we left the courthouse.
*
Anne Boyle looked at me, her steady gaze unnerving. “And this is the whole truth?” she asked.
Nora remained silent while Anne spoke, though I was fairly certain she wondered the same thing.
Henry sat right next to me on the sofa, my hand held securely in his own. “I promise, everything is true,” I said, letting my eyes fall to the floor.
By altering some of the facts for the magistrates, Henry had saved me from being publicly humiliated and possibly even from a day or two in the stocks. Once the hearing was over though, and we had returned home to find Anne and Nora in the sitting room waiting for news, I had insisted on telling the truth.
It had taken a full hour to recount the entire story, beginning from when I had met Nathan Crowley on the road the day before my father had died, all the way through to Dirk Fletcher charging after me inside the meetinghouse. I had confessed to everything—my desperation after learning of my cousin’s death, and coercing Henry into marriage with the idea that he could simply leave in a year or two when Nathan no longer posed a threat. I had also told them how Henry and I had inadvertently fallen in love while pretending to be husband and wife, and how we planned to marry for real once he was officially released from his current engagement.
To be sure, my confession spurred an abundance of guilt, but pouring out all of my secrets was also strangely cathartic. Well, almost all of them—there was still one that had to be kept.
“And this Dirk Fletcher is dead?” Anne asked.
There hadn’t been time to change since coming back from the hearing, and my eyes darted to the spots of dried blood on my skirt. “Yes,” I said. Henry had made sure of it.
“Well, I don’t care whose name you used,” Anne said, turning to Henry. “You stood up together and proclaimed yourselves to be husband and wife. So far as I’m concerned, the marriage is legal.”
“That might be the case if I were Quaker,” Henry replied politely. “But I’m not, and neither is Selah, for that matter. Her name has never been read into the meeting. As she has already explained, the marriage occurred under duress and with a false identity. I don’t think the King would allow it under English law. And I would prefer not to push the issue at the risk of losing my birthright when we can simply be re-married in the near future.”
“Oh, posh,” Anne huffed. “Have it your way, Henry Fitzalan. But be assured, I acknowledge only one Lord in this world, birthright or not.”
Henry smiled at Anne’s forthright opinion of the peerage. “I would have expected nothing less,” he said.
Anne looked at him wryly, but couldn’t help returning the smile. “And, I’ll make sure all the ladies in Hopewell know that Selah has remained virtuous during your brief stay at Brighmor. Not that I condone your actions,” she said, the smile disappearing as she glanced sternly back to me, “but this world can be a difficult place for a single woman. You took the only course you saw at the time, and I’ll not have other women condemning you for it.”
“Thank you, Anne,” I said, gratitude flowing through me. Once again, I felt the benefit of having her on my side.
Nora shifted restlessly in her seat.