The Jackal by J.R. Ward

Author:J.R. Ward
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2020-08-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Standing in Jabon’s drawing room, Rhage absorbed the details of the diorama of catastrophe as if the triangulation of figures would somehow reveal the truth beneath the surface of the allegation: Ellany, with her stained peach dressing gown and pale, heartbroken face. Her mahmen, poised for flight in her finery, gown skirting lifted—although given the fury on her face, it seemed as if she intended to engage rather than run.

With her daughter? Rhage wondered. Or with the male who had been accused?

The Jackal, meanwhile, was looking aghast, his shock so deep and honestly held, it was clear he could not respond.

And finally, there was Jabon, standing before the closed doors of his dining hall, his remote, masklike expression concealing what had to be the alarm going through his mind: A member of the glymera might entertain countless guests—including some who may have been of less than perfect repute—in a manner that was, at times, questionable, but provided the “questionable” activities with the less-than-“reputable” visitors occurred behind closed doors, and with no undue attention upon the comings and goings from bedrooms, there would be little social fallout. True, there were invitations unto Jabon that might be, and no doubt had been, revoked, and there would be certain high-bred females who would refuse to be seated beside him at festivals, but largely he would be left to his own devices, free to open his mansion up to whomever he chose.

However, all of that leeway would be rescinded in the work of a moment if a well-bred female of mateable age was dishonorably stripped of her virginity under his roof.

The downfall Jabon would experience would be swift, epic and lasting through countless future generations of his loins.

“I did it for you,” Ellany repeated unto Rhage.

He shook his head at the young female. “You did no such thing as I have never asked anything of you. Even when you sought me out.”

“Ellany!” her mahmen exclaimed. “Whatever did you—”

“Enough,” Jabon snapped with surprising strength.

Gone was the bon vivant. In its place was an utterly serious head of household who enjoyed his social station—and apparently wanted to retain it.

“You have disgraced my home,” he said to the Jackal. “You have mistreated an innocent of fine breeding under my roof—”

“I did no such thing!” The Jackal stepped forth, a strong figure, also of fine breeding, who knew exactly what would transpire upon him if the accusation stuck. “I have not put a hand upon her, and she knows it—”

“So ruining her body was not enough, now you must befoul her character?” Jabon slashed a hand through the air. “How dare you! You will take your leave of mine property at once, and there will be consequences to this.”

“She is lying.” The Jackal’s eyes bored into Ellany’s, who could not bear the scrutiny. As she ducked her stare, he cursed. “But yes, I shall depart at once, and ne’er return. My honor has been offended for the convenience of a social ploy that does not involve me, and I resent the implication into whatever scheme is being played out here.

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