Free Because of You by Cathy Maxwell Page A

linens.”
    Yale slowly rose from his chair, feeling at a disadvantage with the men looming over him. As he had expected, when he came to his full height, they took a step back—everyone, that is, except Squire Biggers.
    “Where is Miss Northrup?” Yale asked.
    At that moment, she pushed her way forward from the back of the group. She turned and faced them. “This is ridiculous! I insist you stop immediately!”
    Mrs. Sadler spoke. “We told you to stay at the inn, Miss Northrup. We know what we are doing.”
    “Someone take her back to the inn,” Squire Biggers ordered. Mr. Sadler moved to obey.
    The squire turned his attention back to Yale. He patted his blunderbuss. “Mr. Browne, I am also the local magistrate.”
    “It is a pleasure to meet you,” Yale replied dryly.
    “It’s no pleasure for me, sir,” the squire shot back. “We are all concerned for the reputation of Miss Northrup.”
    “Oh, I can’t believe this!” Miss Northrup protested. She’d dug in her heels and wasn’t making it easy for Mr. Sadler to remove her person.
    Yale looked Squire Biggers in the eye. “I assure you her reputation is safe. I have done nothing untoward here.”
    “Do you call parading yourself naked in front of our women nothing, sir?”
    Every man jack of them waited for Yale’s answer, and he knew they wouldn’t believe him, whatever he said. “It was a mistake. They have my sincerest apologies.”
    “Oh, it was a mistake, all right,” the squire agreed. “And I have no doubt you’ve been in the company of Miss Northrup without your clothing, too.”
    Yale sensed a trap but he didn’t know what kind. “If you have no doubt, then it is futile for me to protest it,” he said cautiously.
    “Not as long as you do the right thing, sir.” Squire Biggers laid a loving hand on his blunderbuss.
    “The right thing?” Yale asked.
    “Aye,” the squire answered. “We expect you to marry her.”

Chapter 5
    H ustled to the back of the crowd gathered around her kitchen door, Samantha heard the squire’s words. Her knees buckled beneath her in shock.
    Her stumbling caused Mr. Sadler to loosen his hold and she used the opportunity to twist out of his grasp, slip under his arm, and charge back into the house with a ringing, “No!”
    She pushed her way past her neighbors to confront the squire angrily. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    He didn’t even bother to look at her. “This is none of your affair, missy.”
    “None of my affair?” Samantha repeated incredulously. She shot a glance at Mr. Browne to see if he was as disbelieving as she was. He stood, his arms folded against his chest, his face a stone mask. He reminded her of the Sphinx of Ancient Egypt—except that he had the body of Apollo.
    Funny she should notice that at this particularmoment, but then, any other man would look ridiculous wearing nothing but a sheet.
    She faced Squire Biggers. “How dare you walk into my home, confront a sick man, and order him to marry me!”
    There was a rustle of murmurs from the villagers. The squire was known for his quick, irrational temper. Few people dared question him.
    Squire Biggers’s eyebrows practically rose to where his hairline used to be and he pulled himself up to every inch of his short stature. “I dare,” he drawled in his best patrician voice, “because you have no one else to speak for you, Miss Northrup. Because we have standards in our community, and we will not have some ne’er-do-well taking advantage of our dear departed vicar’s daughter, God rest his soul.”
    “Mr. Browne has done nothing to take advantage of me,” Samantha shot back. “None of this is his fault. He’s been very ill. Since he wasn’t conscious when we moved him from the inn, he didn’t know where he was. Furthermore, I burned his clothes to prevent the spread of disease. The man had nothing to wear, he woke up in a strange place, and he didn’t know the kitchen was full of women.”
    “What? He