"My lord, I have some most distressing news," said Lady Pamela, as she was admitted to Sir Bruce's study the next morning. "It's about my Lady Harley."
Sir Bruce looked up from the map of Arkham Forest. "She's not ill, I trust?" he asked.
"No, my lord," replied Lady Pamela. "At least, not physically. But I am afraid her wits might be diseased. We all know madness is contagious, and Lady Harley did spend some time among lunatics not too long ago."
"Why do you think she is mad?" asked Sir Bruce.
"Well, she must be," said Lady Pamela. "That is the only explanation I can think of as to why she would let the outlaw seduce her."
Sir Bruce stood up. "What are you talking about?" he growled. "What outlaw?"
"The clown, my lord," replied Lady Pamela.
"Isn't your job meant to be keeping an eye on my cousin so she's not seduced by anyone?" demanded Sir Bruce. "Isn't that solely your responsibility, to protect her from the unwanted advances of men?"
"It is also to serve my lady, and I was distracted by preparing her bath," retorted Lady Pamela. "The outlaw snuck in like a serpent when I was away from her. I saw him skulking back across the grounds, and found Lady Harley flushed in her room. I do not think I was gone long enough for anything…substantial to have occurred, but the fact remains that she was not at all distressed by his presence and his actions. Quite the opposite. And this morning she is acting as if she's under some spell, humming and giggling to herself. I am afraid he has infected her with some kind of madness, my lord."
Sir Bruce nodded slowly, processing what she had said. "We must restore her senses immediately, then," he said. "And I believe I know how to accomplish that. Lady Pamela, fetch my cousin, and you, Alfred," he said, turning to the servant. "Fetch the village friar."
"Right away, Sir Bruce," said Alfred, bowing.
"You wanted to see me, cousin?" asked Maid Harley, smiling as she entered Sir Bruce's study with Lady Pamela.
"Yes. Have a seat, Harley," he said, gesturing to a chair. "I'm just waiting for Alfred's return before we begin."
"Begin what?" asked Maid Harley, puzzled.
"Here is the friar, sir," said Alfred, returning with Friar Tetch following behind him.
"Friar Tetch, at your service, Sir Bruce," said Friar Tetch, bowing. "How may I be of assistance to you?"
"I require you to perform a marriage ceremony," replied Sir Bruce. "At once."
"Of course, Sir Bruce," said Friar Tetch, bowing again. "A marriage ceremony for whom?"
"For me and my cousin," he said, gesturing at Maid Harley.
"I…beg your pardon?" gasped Maid Harley, shocked.
"Of course, how remiss of me to skip formalities," said Sir Bruce. "I am afraid the technicalities have not all been properly seen to, Friar. I won't take a moment," he said, turning to Maid Harley and kneeling down. "My lady, I desire your hand in marriage. I believe you are a suitable woman to provide me with the heir I desire, and I believe the match would be a good one for your family and mine. Your consent is all that is required, and then we can waste no time in making the marriage official."
"I…uh…I'm sorry, I'm just a little…surprised," stammered Maid Harley. "I wasn't expecting a proposal at all…um…have you consulted my father about this? I cannot agree without his consent, after all."
"Your father has privately and repeatedly expressed his desire for this marriage to me," replied Sir Bruce. "Indeed, my express purpose in bringing you here was to wed you."
"You…wouldn't have told me that before we left home?" stammered Maid Harley. "If I had known that was the terms of my accompanying you, perhaps I…would have reconsidered."
Sir Bruce frowned. "Are you saying you don't want to marry me?"
"I…" stammered Maid Harley, wondering how she could respond in the negative tactfully. "I don't…um…"
"Because you must understand that it's really not up to you," interrupted Sir Bruce. "And that your desires do not matter one bit. Your consent is a mere formality, and one I can skip over if necessary. Your father wishes this, and I wish it, and you will respect our wishes as his property, and soon to be mine. You will be obedient to our desires, as a good daughter and a wife-to-be."
"It is a good match, my lady," spoke up Lady Pamela. "As Sir Bruce's wife, you will be accorded the respect and dignity of a very high station indeed, the wife of a knight. And you can live out your days here in Wayne Manor, in comfort and splendor, with a wealthy and distinguished husband by your side."
"And our children, naturally," agreed Sir Bruce. "I am expecting many children, and I'm sure you are equal to the task of bearing them. We'll get started immediately after the ceremony is through, but for now, Friar Tetch, please get on with performing it," he said, taking Maid Harley's arm. "Can it be done here, or must we accompany you to church?"
"Well, I…the church is the usual place for a wedding," agreed Friar Tetch, slowly. "But…forgive me, Sir Bruce, I cannot in good conscience perform the marriage ceremony without the lady's consent," he said, nodding at Maid Harley. "I need to hear her accept your proposal."
"Very well – accept it, Harley," said Sir Bruce.
Maid Harley stared from him to Friar Tetch and back. "I'm…I'm sorry," she stammered. "I…I…I cannot accept you as my husband, Sir Bruce."
"Why not?" asked Sir Bruce, surprised and annoyed.
"Because I…I…I just can't," she stammered. "I do not…love you."
Sir Bruce sighed heavily. "Oh dear. You're really going to be disobedient because of some wild fantasy about love?"
Maid Harley shut her eyes. Most of her mind was urging her to accept Sir Bruce – that was the sensible thing to do, after all. But then somewhere, some small part of her held Robbin' Joker's image and his words to her, his words about her mattering, and his kiss, which had suddenly turned the world into a wonderful place full of hope and joy.
She opened her eyes and stared back at Sir Bruce. "That's right," she said, firmly.
His hand tightened on Maid Harley's arm. "I will not tolerate disobedience from my wife," he muttered.
"I'm not your wife," retorted Maid Harley, wrenching her arm away. "And I will never consent to be."
"I consent, and your father consents, and that's all the consent you need!" snapped Sir Bruce, grabbing her arm again. "Friar Tetch, perform the marriage," he said.
"I…cannot, Sir Bruce," said Friar Tetch, slowly. "I cannot force this woman to marry you without her consent. That is against my duty to man and God."
Sir Bruce glared from him to Maid Harley. "This is about that outlaw, isn't it?" he growled. "The clown. He's done something to you, hasn't he? He's poisoned your mind against me, if not your body. Lady Pamela said she saw him sneaking away from your room last night – what has he done to you?" he demanded, grabbing her shoulders.
"Nothing!" exclaimed Maid Harley.
"Don't lie to me," hissed Sir Bruce. "Did he touch you?"
Maid Harley glared back at him. "He spoke to me," she said. "He spoke to me like an equal and with respect, not with the contemptuous and patronizing tone that you speak to me with. He told me I mattered, and that my opinions mattered, and that I should never let anyone make me feel as though I didn't ever again. And I will obey him in that."
She wrenched herself away from Sir Bruce. "Good day," she snapped, storming back to her room.
Sir Bruce glared after her. "Leave me," he snapped, nodding at Friar Tetch and Alfred. "Lady Pamela, you stay," he said. "I need to speak with you."
The two men bowed and left, shutting the door behind them. "Of course I will be using all the influence I have to plead your case to my lady, Sir Bruce…" began Lady Pamela.
"It won't do any good," interrupted Sir Bruce. "The clown's got her under some sort of spell. The only way to break that spell is to destroy him, and then everything can go back to normal. Harley will have lost this spark of defiance once she sees him dead. She will see what happens to people who believe they can flaunt the law, and their place in society."
"So how will you catch the outlaw?" asked Lady Pamela. "Combing the forest could take weeks, and they'd hear us coming…"
"No, we must draw him out to us," interrupted Sir Bruce. "We must draw him out, and then trap him, and then execute him. In public, for everyone to see what happens to people who are defiant, and who get above themselves."
Lady Pamela thought. "A tournament," she said at last. "The clown cannot resist showing off. An archery tournament whose prize will be a kiss from the Lady Harley. He would be unable to resist that."
Sir Bruce nodded slowly. "Yes. His cockiness will be his downfall after all."
He waved his hand. "Go tell Alfred to begin work on the preparations. I want the tournament held soon, and I want the outlaw dead. My wedding will wait a week, and no more."
"As you wish, my lord," said Lady Pamela, bowing. She left the room to go find Alfred, not noticing the hidden figure of Friar Tetch, who had been listening at the keyhole, hurrying off in the direction of Arkham Forest.