Molly smiled and smiled and smiled yet again, feeling as if her lips would soon fall from her face but knowing what was expected of her. Even though all in attendance knew of the true circumstances of her wedding to Master Culverton Smith, they expected exactly what she was giving them all: the appearance of a happy bride who was preparing for a new life, the same life so many other women in her station in life would welcome.

Welcome, or resign themselves to. Molly bit back a melancholy sigh as she watched her new husband sitting at the head of the trestle table that had been set up for the bridal party, while she sat with her mother and the other married women of the village and endured their whispered advice about her wedding night.

A night which was rapidly approaching.

A night which she was dreading, most ardently.

The thunder of approaching hoofbeats interrupted her thoughts, drowning out the cheerful music being played on tambor and flute. The musicians stopped to stare at the newcomer along with everyone else. Molly and her wedding-night advisors rose to their feet to gawp and stare at the sight of a strange nobleman bringing his coal-black steed to a dramatic stop mere feet from the wooden trestle table at which her new husband still sat with his cronies, a mug of ale halfway to his lips and an expression of shock on his face.

Molly started to move closer, but her mother clutched her sleeve and shook her head, wordlessly forbidding her to move forward. Still in the habit of obedience, Molly remained still, her straining eyes fixed on the cloaked figure now swinging with ease from the saddle and alighting on the ground. "Master Culverton Smith?" she heard him say, and gasped, feeling the color drain from her cheeks as she recognized the man's deep, imperious voice.

It was him, the man from the early afternoon, the one whom she'd allowed to kiss her. She had no need of seeing his face, for that voice was burned into her very soul. What was he doing here, now? Why had he come? Had he come - nay, he could not possibly have come for her! And if he had, why, he was too late; she was already wed.

These confused thoughts and more raced through her mind as her new husband slowly lowered his tankard and rose to his far-from-impressive height. "I am Master Culverton Smith, aye," he replied with an obsequious bow as he swept his hat from his head. "To what do I owe the honor, my lord?"

"I am here on the king's business," was the reply, and Molly's heart sank. Foolish girl, to have hoped this was on her behalf. "Forgive the intrusion, but it is a matter of some urgency." Then he turned his head and looked squarely at her before gesturing for Master Smith to join him away from the others.

As soon as they vanished from view the wedding party and celebrants all began speaking in hushed tones, the sole topic of speculation being the odd meeting between nobleman and merchant. Were Smith to be arrested for some wrongdoing, surely Sheriff Lestrade and his men would have been dispatched, rather than the handsome stranger from Londontown.

A few worrisome minutes later her husband (she shuddered to think of him by that title) strode into the center of the clearing. "I thank you all for joining in the festivities," he said in that pompous manner he had, "but I pray your indulgence and ask that you all return home. All is well," he hastened to assure them as murmurs of consternation arose from the small group. "All is well, but the king's business is one I must attend to - myself and my lovely bride." He smiled and gestured for Molly to join him.

After a last, confused glance at her mother - who looked equally confused - Molly stepped away from the other woman, walking to her husband and laying her hand in his. His smile never faltered, but there was something about it that she misliked, something dark that set her heart to pounding and clenched her stomach with sudden fear. Whatever the king's business was, it was surely to her husband's profit, else he'd not be so obviously pleased...but somehow she feared what was to come.

As the revelers returned to their homes - her mother and brothers remaining to mind the bonfire, which had hours left before it could be safely doused - she and her husband joined the nobleman, who was waiting with ill-concealed impatience in the darkness beyond the light of the bonfire and the few torches that had been lit. "You agree, then?" he said as Molly and Smith came to a stop before him.

"It is the king's command," her husband said. "How could I, a humble merchant, disobey?" He turned to Molly, raising her hands up and kissing them one at a time. She held back her shudder of distaste, just as she had when he'd placed his mouth on hers at the conclusion of their wedding ceremony, merely bobbed her head in acknowledgement.

Instead of releasing her, Culverton led her to the other man, and placed her hands in his. "She is the king's for the night," she heard him say through the sudden rushing of blood in her ears. "To be returned to me on the morrow."

"I-I- what means this, my lord?" Molly stammered out, looking between her husband and the nobleman in confusion. "I am to go to meet the king? For what purpose?"

Her husband reached into his belt and pulled out a gem-encrusted ring that looked to be made of solid gold. "Why, the king has seen your beauty, my dear, and has claimed the right of jus prima noctis. And this is our compensation."

Molly had believed herself incapable of being further shocked by anything that happened in her life, but her husband's words, condemning her to a night of submission to a man she'd never seen, one who might well be worse than the devil she knew (God forgive her the blasphemy), sent a cold chill down her spine she could do nothing to disguise. "I am to be traded for a mere ring like a, a sack of grain?" she hissed, trying to pull her hands away from the king's messenger. Who refused to allow her go, yet continued to say nothing.

"Why no, my dearest, of course not!" Culverton sounded indignant. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Though she twisted her head away in disgust, she could move no further with her hands still trapped. "If his majesty finds your company pleasing, then he's likely to give you one as well, to demonstrate his gratitude." His voice turned hard, and he reached up to grip her chin in his hand, staring balefully at her. "So I expect you to work very, very hard to please him, else I find reason to turn your mother and brothers out of their home after all.

She yanked her head away, utterly repulsed by his grasping, greedy nature, more than horrified that she was to be tied to this man for the rest of her life.

Suddenly the idea of her virginity being bartered away to the king seemed much the lesser of the two evils.

Raising her head, she looked up at the man holding her hands in his. "I'm ready for you to take me, my lord."

She thought she saw him smile, but it was so fleeting that she thought perhaps she'd only imagined it. He nodded curtly at her husband, then released her hands and mounted his horse. Reaching down to her, she placed her hand back in his grasp and allowed him to lift her so she was riding pillion, her arms wrapped securely around his waist.

She did not look back even once.