Mr. Hulme strode down the aisle waving a document. “Madeleine Woodford is promised to me and I have the paper to prove it.”
“Hulme? The old goat?” Nash’s eyes blazed with a martial light. “He dares to interrupt my wedding? Look after Maddy,” he said and passed her to Marcus, then stepped out into the aisle to face Mr. Hulme.
“Hulme?” Marcus asked Maddy. “George Hulme?”
She nodded, her eyes glued to the drama taking place before her.
Daunted by the expression on Nash’s face, Mr. Hulme stopped dead in midmarch. He snapped his fingers and a liveried servant stepped forward. A second servant stood behind, his collar turned up high.
As one, Harry, Luke, Ethan, and Rafe stepped forward to flank Nash.
“Magnificent collection of masculinity, don’t you think?” Lady Gosforth’s comment was audible. A few titters sounded in the nearby pews.
“This is a house of God!” Rev. Matheson and the bishop boomed almost in unison.
Mrs. Matheson appeared at Maddy’s side. “Come, my dear, wait in the vestry. The gentlemen will sort everything out.”
But Maddy could see how the gentlemen were planning to sort it out. With fists. She shook off the restraining hands and pushed between Nash’s friends. “I won’t have my wedding turned into a brawl. I can deal with this.”
Nash took her hand and said firmly, “Wewill deal with it.”
The bishop and Rev. Matheson made their way to the no man’s land between Mr. Hulme and the wedding party. “Show me this document,” the bishop demanded.
Mr. Hulme handed over the paper, saying loudly, “Sir John Woodford promised me his daughter, Madeleine, in marriage, in exchange for debts incurred by him. This is a legal document properly signed, sealed, and witnessed.”
A horrified buzz rippled through the church, followed almost immediately by a sea of shushing from people who wanted to hear.
“I am not a piece of property,” Maddy snapped. “I told you before, I don’t care how many seals it has or what my father promised you, I repudiate that document. And I’m marrying Nash Renfrew, so go away.”
“Good gel!” Lady Gosforth said, and there was a murmur of agreement from the congregation.
The bishop finished scanning the document. “As I understand it, Miss Woodford is over the age of consent, and I can see no reason why she should be bound by such a document. Slavery is illegal in England and women cannot be sold for debts.” He handed it back to Mr. Hulme. “Take yourself off, sirrah, and let the wedding service resume.”
The congregation burst into spontaneous applause, and Marcus, Harry, Luke, Ethan, and Rafe seized Mr. Hulme and his servants by the collar and began to march them out. There was a loud yelp and a scuffle, then Luke dragged one of the servants forward.
“Miss Woodford, meet the Bloody Abbot,” Luke said, shaking the man like a dog shakes a rat. “He’s wearing the black eye I gave him, among other bruises. No wonder he was skulking in the background.”
The congregation buzzed and shushed furiously.
“The villain whose shoulder I winged the other night?” Marcus leaned forward and poked the man just below the shoulder and the man yelped again. “So he is,” Marcus agreed. “Well spotted, Ripton.”
“Terrorize my woman and children will you, you filthy cur!” Nash strode toward the cringing man, a murderous light in his eye.
“Not in the house of God,” the bishop shrieked. Maddy grabbed Nash’s arm and hung on with all her strength. Mr. Hulme and the Bloody Abbot had done enough to spoil her life; they werenotgoing to ruin her wedding.
“It weren’t my fault,” the man whined. “Mr. ’Ulme, ’e made me do it, said to drive the girl out of ’er cottage, starve her out, or burn her out so she ’ad no choice but come back to ’im.
A loud buzz of outrage rose at his words and the man hastily added, “But I never ’urt nobody, I swear.”
“That’s not all Hulme’s done,” Marcus said when there was a slight lull.
“What?” Nash demanded savagely.
“In my investigations into the illegal depredations of your man Harris,” Marcus began.
“Harris? Harris?” The whisper went through the church. Then instant, hushed silence.
Marcus continued, “Among Harris’s papers I found a promissory note. One hundred pounds to be paid to Harris when a certain woman is evicted from her home, hounded out of the district, and forced to return to Leicestershire. Signed by one George Hulme.”
