“Hardly all that.” Jemmy slid a chair beneath her shaky legs. She sat down, her head resting in her hands. “As long as you didn’t engage Esme’s services, make a bargain with her, then you needn’t worry that you are about to be dragged before the parson.”
Her gaze flew up to meet his. “A bargain?”
“Yes, you know, over tea, I would imagine. She pours you a cup and offers to help you find your heart’s desire.”
“Tea?”
If the gel had been pale before, she hadn’t a bit of color left now. “Don’t tell me, you drank the tea?”
She didn’t speak, only nodded.
Jemmy had been warned by his father from an early age never to partake in a cup of Esme’s potent brew. It was how his own parents had ended up wedded. “I wouldn’t be so overwrought,” he offered. “As long as you didn’t give her any money, then there is no harm done.”
She closed her eyes and shuddered, as if trying to forget the evening in its entirety.
“You gave her money?”
“Just a few coins. It seemed the decent thing to do. She’d taken me in, after all. I thought she was naught but a lonely old lady with a fastidious cat to feed—”
“Nelson,” Jemmy said, groaning. If Esme could be called a bit of an oddity, a century or so back the eerie Nelson would have qualified her for a nice toasty blaze in the village square.
“Yes, Lord Nelson. I thought a few coins would put her right for the time being. Just enough for a stewing hen is all. But I certainly didn’t ask her to make a match for me.”
“Are you positive?” he asked. “Absolutely positive?” Esme wasn’t renowned for being all that open and honest about her transactions.
The young woman bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. “I fear last night is a bit hazy. But I do recall giving her a few coins after she offered to help me. But with what, I can’t remember.”
Now it was Jemmy’s turn to seek out a chair. He slumped down and looked across the table at her. “You know what you’ve done, don’t you? You’ve contracted a match!”
Her cheeks pinked. “I did no such thing. I was merely lost and sought shelter here, nothing more.”
Jemmy stared at her. “Well, it turned into something more, now didn’t it?”
The lady’s chin notched up. “It’s not like this sort of thing is done anymore. It was all just an innocent bit of conversation.”
“Not in Bramley Hollow,” he said. “A bargain is a bargain. And when a match is contracted, it must be completed.” He paused for a second, feeling no small twinge of guilt to be the one to break the bad news to her. “ ’Tis the law. You must be wed.”
Her eyes widened again. “The law? Why, that is barbarous. You can’t force a person to wed.”
“No one is forcing you. You were the one who contracted Esme’s services. But the law is quite specific on the subject. Once a match is engaged, an expedient marriage must take place.”
“How can that be? Banns must be read.”
“Not in Bramley Hollow,” he told her. “The king granted the village an exemption from the Marriage Act, though only in weddings contracted through the matchmaker.”
She shook her head at this unpleasant news. “I don’t see how I can be forced to wed someone in such short order.”
“Surely you know the legend of Bramley Hollow?” Having grown up under its auspices, Jemmy couldn’t imagine anyone not knowing the story.
“Yes, yes, I know the tale, but I don’t see why a thousand-year-old pledge need be honored. Especially since I was induced into this bargain by trickery.”
“Trickery is how matchmaking got its start in Bramley Hollow—if that princess hadn’t induced the baron to marry her, she would have ended up wed to that wretched despot. Her clever bit of matchmaking and the baron’s loyalty have kept the village out of harm’s way all these years.” He smiled at her. “But just in case you are of royal blood, your father isn’t going to sack the village if we don’t hand you over, is he?”
She managed a wan smile. “I don’t think Bramley Hollow need fear anything so dire.”
“Relieved to hear it—I had visions of having to haul the family armory out of the attics.”
“But don’t you see—I don’t want to be married,” she said, bounding up from her chair. “I can’t get married.”