"Sir John forces my hand," said Rosmore, turning quickly towards her. For an instant he seemed angry, but his face softened as he looked at her. "I am torn between love and duty. Sir John speaks truly. Another in my place to-night, one who had only his duty to consider, would probably arrest both you and your uncle on suspicion, and you would have to prove your innocence as best you might. King James is determined to trample out this rebellion, and even some innocent persons may suffer."
Barbara did not speak when he paused. She had glanced at her uncle and wondered whether this might be some plot between these two to force her to this marriage. She distrusted her uncle as much as, if not more than, she did Lord Rosmore.
"If I consent?" she said.
Rosmore made a step towards her, and Sir John looked up quickly. They were suddenly as men who had played a desperate game and won.
"I said 'If,'" and she shrank back a little, unconscious how beautiful she looked in that moment.
"Consent to be my wife, and there is nothing that you can ask me that I will not do—nothing. Do you understand—nothing?"
"And if I say 'No'?"
Anger came back into Rosmore's face for an instant, but it was gone in a moment.
"Even so I could not do my duty," he said slowly. "I should ask that another might take my place, and then—"
"Then the heavy hand of the King upon us," said Sir John.