The Marriage Spell by Mary Jo Putney Page A

her breath, “Take your leave before you faint.”
    It was good advice. Abby rose and managed a smile. “There’s much to be done. Don’t tire Lord Frayne out, gentlemen.”
    She and Judith left amidst a masculine murmur of farewells. Wordlessly the women passed through the dining room, where Judith snared a decanter of brandy and two glasses before they climbed the stairs.
    Once they reached Abby’s small sitting room, Judith closed the door and said firmly, “Sit.”
    Abby obeyed, still struggling with her shock. Judith poured brandy into a glass and pressed it into Abby’s hand. After pouring more for herself, Judith sat in the chair opposite. “What is going on? I assume that the subject of marriage must have been discussed between you and Lord Frayne, yet you looked as startled as if he had just turned into a frog.”
    â€œHe did agree to marry me, but I didn’t think he actually
would.
” Abby swallowed a mouthful of brandy, grateful for the enlivening burn.
    â€œDid you ask him, or did he ask you?”
    â€œI…I explained that it could be dangerous to lead a healing circle, but I would risk it if he pledged to marry me if the healing was successful. This happened when he had just been brought in, broken and barely alive.”
    Judith stared at her. “Abby, how could you! It’s immoral to coerce someone who is mortally injured.”
    â€œI know.” Abby looked away, ashamed. “I didn’t really mean it.”
    â€œYet you said it.” Judith cocked her head. “What, pray,
did
you mean?”
    Abby frowned as she tried to reconstruct her tangled thoughts and emotions in the midst of crisis. “Frayne was half out of his head and rejecting the idea of healing magic. Ashby and Ransom were urging him to let me try. I didn’t know if he could be saved, but for some reason, asking for marriage seemed like a good idea.”
    Judith gulped at her brandy, expression pained. “That makes no sense at all.”
    â€œI know it doesn’t,” Abby admitted. “But I never really believed he’d go through with a marriage. I thought that even if we saved him, he would politely withdraw. Since he agreed under duress, I wouldn’t have held him to his word.”
    â€œHow was he to know that? A gentleman’s word is his bond, Abby,” Judith said, exasperated. “A man of honor would not break his promise, even under such circumstances. It’s not as if he could read your mind and learn you weren’t serious. And if he
could
read your mind, your thinking is so tangled you’d give him a headache!”
    â€œMy thoughts are giving me a headache, too.” Abby toyed with her brandy glass, swirling the richly colored liquid. “In fact, I’ve avoided thinking about the situation, since I don’t understand myself why I did what I did. It’s been easier to concentrate on Lord Frayne’s injuries and recovery. I never thought he’d send Ransom to London without once discussing marriage with me!”
    â€œHe’s a man of action, for better and worse. At least Ransom’s journey kept him from fidgeting around here all week. Two anxious men were more than enough.” Judith sipped her brandy again, this time more slowly. “Since a woman can break an engagement with no loss of reputation, it will be simple enough to end this. You made your point and persuaded him to allow his life to be saved. You certainly don’t have to spend the rest of your life with him.”
    What Judith said was perfectly logical. That being so, why didn’t it make Abby feel good? Instead, the knowledge that she could walk away from the marriage left her profoundly depressed. She set her brandy aside and began pacing the room. “You’re quite right.”
    Watching her, Judith said, “Abby, do you
want
to marry Lord Frayne? I can’t imagine that his title interests you.