Page 8 of Sweet Justice

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"I see. Were you alone with her all night?" he asked Mr. Easton.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"I dare ask the kinds of improprieties that occurred."

His eyes widened as if surprised by such a question. "As I said, nothing occurred. I didn't touch her," he countered, holding his hands up in front of him.

"Then why is she wearing a bed sheet?"

"She was my prisoner and I didn't want her to escape."

The judge's bushy eyebrow went up.

"Have you used this method before?" the judge asked.

Mr. Easton rubbed the back of his neck and looked abashed. "No, but she is my first female prisoner."

"I imagine so," the judge replied dryly. "I have high regard for your character, Easton. Of your values. I've known you a long time, and you've been quite successful at your job and well respected across the Territory. While I think your logic was sound, it lacked propriety in this instance. I don't stand for improprieties and this situation is most certainly one." He held his hand up in front of him when Mr. Easton was about to speak. "Prisoner or not, a woman can not be treated with the same regard. You've given me no choice here except to spare Miss Sinclair's virtue, therefore you will marry her. Now."

"What?" Mr. Easton and I shouted at the same time. My eyes widened and it was possible my heart skipped a beat.

The judge rubbed his hands together again. "I like marrying people much better than seeing them hang. Dearly beloved..."

CHAPTER THREE

PIPER

I was married to a bounty hunter in a hotel room wearing just a bed sheet. This was definitely not every girl's fantasy wedding day. Some unions were done spouse unseen. I'd heard of mail order brides where they were wed by proxy halfway across the country. I'd heard of marriages of convenience, especially when a woman was widowed and had children to feed. I'd even heard of shotgun weddings because of an overeager suitor. None of these were the case here. Yes, it was a shotgun wedding, but neither of us was interested in wedding the other, nor had any type of true impropriety occurred.

He hadn't even kissed me! If I was going to marry a man because of my virtue, he could have at least left it in tatters beforehand. But no, Mr. Easton was an ornery, annoying bounty hunter with honor. When the judge pronounced that Mr. Easton could kiss his bride and he lowered his head to plant a chaste kiss upon my lips, I hooked my hand around behind his neck and pulled him in for a real kiss. At least what I thought was a real kiss, for this was my first. I just wanted to know what it felt like, having a man's mouth on mine.

His lips were firm, yet warm, pliant yet yielding. It could have been that we had an audience or that he was stunned at the swift change of events, but I had a feeling there was more to a kiss than that. For just the briefest of moments he settled into the kiss, but quickly pulled back. The look on his face when he stood back to his full height was something akin to surprise. No, it was more like stunned. I think I must have had a similar expression because in that one moment when he actually had kissed me back, it had been...something.

The judge clapped his hands together. "Congratulations!"

I just stared at the man, not sure how to reply. Thank you wasn't really an option.

Mr. Easton cleared his throat. "What of the other Sinclairs?"

I may have just been married and my brain addled, so I was thankful to Mr. Easton for asking that valuable question. My emotions were so varied I felt like I had whiplash the time I was thrown from a horse. My family was guilty and I knew their outlook poor.

The judge pursed his lips. "They are guilty of their crimes and will hang."

My stomach plummeted and little black dots swam before my eyes. I felt a hand on my arm and one just above my breasts.

"Easy, Laurel," Mr. Easton murmured in my ear. I was picked up and held snuggly against his warm body, but I didn't care, didn't register much of anything except that my family was all going to be dead, and soon.

"Judge, I'll take care of her now. I'd say thank you for stopping by, but..."

I just looked at Mr. Easton's shirtfront as the men spoke.

"Yes, yes," the judge said. "I'm sorry to have upset you Miss Sinclair, I mean Mrs. Easton, but there was no delicate way to put it. You're in good hands with your new husband. I assume you will want to track down Miss Carter?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Mr. Easton replied.

"Good day then."

I heard the door close, but didn't care.


Tags: Vanessa Vale Romance