The three women curtsied, the obviously older and taller of the three stepping forward.
"Conciliator," she almost whispered.
The old judge looked down his long, narrow nose, washed out gray eyes staring at the woman dispassionately for a moment before giving the barest of nods.
"Mrs Oldes," he said in a gravely voice that even at his age carried easily over the din of the crowd, "I'm pleased to see you and your daughters could attend."
Mrs Oldes gave another curtsy before gesturing imperatively at her daughters who hesitantly stepped forward with downcast eyes.
"This here's Jane," Mrs Oldes said gesturing to the first woman who gave a quick curtsy, a tall, darkhaired woman with a bodice that revealed deep, plunging cleavage, "And this here's Sue."
The second daughter was dressed much as the first in a hand-me-down, patched dress although slightly plumper, her cleavage more ample and her matching black hair a flopping mass of curls when she curtsied.
"A pleasure to meet you all," the judge replied with a predatory smile.
Mrs Oldes glanced furtively around the room, her eyes lingering on the man dressed in an immaculate Guard uniform standing next to him and then back to the judge.
"We's came, just as you said," she whispered and cast a furtive glance at the tall, straight backed gentleman next to the judge, "You's promised me Bill would be let ou..."
"Madam," the judge cut in smoothly, his voice bringing her to an instant halt, "Mrs Oldes... Alice... tonight is for our pleasure and enjoyment, let us not speak of business on such an occasion."
Alice stared fearfully up at the old judge suspiciously until he took a deep breath and gave a tight lipped smile.
"Rest assured, madam, you've nothing to trouble yourself over."
"Oh... I... thank'ee, sir," Alice replied with another curtsy before gathering her daughters and scurrying away.
The judge raised his eyebrows at a slight sniff from beside him.
"Are you falling ill, Colonel Maston?" the judge asked.
"Not at all, Jameson, not at all," Colonel Maston replied, "It is just that I find your selection of guests... surprising."
"Blake, surely you found Alice daughters to be delightful morsels of flesh, even if Alice herself my perhaps be a bit older than you prefer," Jameson said.
Blake reached down to adjust his waistbelt, the lack of a sword in its accustomed place making him ill at ease. He glanced after Alice and her two daughters who had retreated to a corner to cluster together almost as if in self defense.
"I know not the game you play at, Jameson, but those three? No matter how fine a soldier one of my men may be, it would still be... unseemly... a slight to him as much as to myself, to invite him to dine," Blake replied while watching the three women, "Those three with their homespun dresses, I believe the daughters appear to be barefoot beneath that hideous dress...
"You do them and yourself a disservice, Jameson." Jameson said and glanced towards the three women still clustered in a corner, "Although I must confess, I hadn't noticed the state of the fair maid's footwear!
"Rather titillating to find two such beautiful women barefoot at such as this, don't you think?"
Blake rolled his eyes and glanced around the ballroom that contained a score of guests, the majority of them of the female persuasion. The mood of the room seemed forced, a joviality of expectation rather than true mirth, the voices subdued with many a suspicious glance from one to another while a harpsichord played from a small raised stage.
"Titillating..." Blake replied after a moment to take a sip of his brandy, "Interesting choice of phrase when one considers the majority of your... guests."
"Ahhh, you've noticed!" Jameson said delightedly, "And I have it on very good authority that all these morsels of delightful flesh are unattached at the moment!"
"Really," Blake shot back with a glance towards Alice, "I wouldn't think a married woman would approve of that description."
"When one's husband could face the hangman, one's virtues become... negotiable shall we say," Jameson replied with a sly glance at Alice, "Dear Mr William Oldes shall soon find clemency...
"As well as the knowledge of what Mrs Alice Oldes was willing to spend for that clemency."
Blake glanced sharply at Jameson with a disapproving glare.
"You're not the fool, Jameson," Blake said, Jameson giving him a sudden shocked look, "I can think of no better way to earn a man's bloodlust than to dally with his wife and daughters and then rub his nose in the acts.
"Are you so old that you now go in search of that dagger between your ribs some dark and rainy night?"
"I've already so many daggers seeking my heart, one more will matter little," Jameson replied with a crooked smile, "But I doubt I have to be overly worried in regard to William Oldes."
"Oh," Blake said curiously, "And why would that be?"
"Bill and... company were found to have a vampire trussed and shoved in a keg that they kept in a root cellar," Jameson replied with a leer towards Alice and her two daughters, "It would seem that Bill would charge a sovereign for the pleasure of spending the night with his family, the stink of that vampire I'm quite sure only filling their boudoir by happenstance."
"What?" Blake demanded in a hard, cold voice, a hand reaching down to the sword that wasn't at his side, "The stupidity!"
"Blake, please," Jameson replied with a smile that revealed his wooden teeth, "Mr Oldes methods were rather ingenious I must say, and I assure you, quite safe.
"You know as well as any that a cloth soaked in oil from the bark of sia trees will protect you from the stink."