Mirabella had always been quiet. She used to spend most of her days sitting beneath trees in the village, reading her books. People in village, mainly the older people, often got onto her that. They would say a woman shouldn't be reading and that she needed to hurry up and get married. They would get onto her father about that as well. How he continued to refuse to wed her to the young men in the village. Mira somewhat believed the only reason her father agreed to have her married to the judge's son was to make the people stop speaking badly of he and herself. But, now her father gone. It was just a few days after her father's death that the town leaders came to her door, telling her it was wrongful for a young woman to live on her own, and she was forced to move in with the judge's son. Of course, they wouldn't be married just yet, as her father's deal that she wouldn't be wed to him until she was eighteen was still in place.

When she moved in with him though, she hadn't guessed how he would act toward her. He had seemed like such a nice young man, but behind closed doors, he was horrible and she dreaded the day she would wed him. He hit her for every little thing. Even if she just 'looked at him the wrong way' he would abuse her. At first it had just been a few slaps here or there, but it soon escalated to the point where he would leave bruises on her pale skin. That was part of the reason she hardly ever left the house. She was ashamed of the bruises and the way they made the people stare at her. The only time she ever did leave the home and into the sight of people was for the two church services on Sundays or if the judges son made her go somewhere with him.

But, when everyone was in bed and the moon gave enough light for her to see, she would sneak out of the house, just as she was doing now. She slipped quietly out the door, going the little ways across the land to the forest where she was away from the sight of people. The moment she stepped foot in the tree line a bright smile came to her face and she moved to the spot by the creek she always went to. Once there, she laughed joyfully and spun about, twirling, dancing there, her curly brown hair whipping about in the wind as she moved. This made her happy. It was the only thing that made her happy anymore.

Hearing a squeak, Mira stopped moving and looked over a small smile on her face as she saw on the rock next to her a little mouse. Kneeling down, she looked at it, "Well, hello there. How are you today little mouse?" The mouse looked up at her and Mira sat down, sighing as she leaned against a tree trunk, "I'm fine as well, now that I'm here I suppose. I think you and the others here in the forest are all I can talk to. No one in the village really understands me like you all do." There was more squeaking and Mira smiled brightly, "Whats that? You wan to see me dance again?" She laughed, knowing it was silly of her to pretend the mouse could speak to her, and stood up, beginning to dance again, spinning and twirling even faster now, blocking everything else around her as she danced.

Ebenezer rubbed at his forehead in the light of the smokey oil lamp. True Christians should not so covet wealth, he had been taught, as to become enamored with it beyond all else. That certainly seemed true of his father now! Three weeks of backtracking expenses and inquiring about the town had revealed just how much of the family's once modest finances had fallen to ruin. It was only by the grace of God and his father's popularity as a preacher that had kept several creditors from calling in their debts. Ebenezer had taken with the books to a will to attempt a reversal of fortune these past nights, arranging for payments out of his father's salary as a clergymen and bolstered by what coin Ebenezer had brought with him upon his return. In truth, it would have been far, far easier to simply pay all the debts out of his own pocket and cleared his family of delinquency. Only then questions would arise, questions that the missing son did not wish to answer or have pursued too heavily. Best instead to restore his own credibility and his father's reputation all in one go by remaining the dutiful son.

"Red!" the old man creaked as he hobbled into the room upon his crutches. Spittle flew out between missing teeth as Reverend Stone spoke, drool flecking his wiry grey beard. "A red coat you're wearing, Ebenezer! A color of sin! A color of soldiers! Of whores and thieves and kings! Red as blood! Proper black, Ebenezer. Go you now to Goodman Jenkins, buy yourself a proper coat and hat this instant!"

Ebenezer resisted sighed. Instead he rose with ink stained fingers to guide his father back to his bed. "Father, Goodman Jenkins died years ago, remember? I can no more ask him for clothing than Cromwell for a horse! And I have a black coat, father. I'm wearing it now! The red one has not been worn since I arrived, and we burned that, yes?"

"Play not the fool with me, sirrah! I am your father! Honor thy father, as they say, and keep not to such whimsical notions!" The preacher mellowed for a moment, lost in his second infancy. "Jenkins... Jenkins was a good man. A good and Christian man." He said little more as his son guided him back towards his bedroom in the rear of the house and set him to bed. Ebenezer tucked his father in with a tolerant love, all the while wishing for things that hadn't happened. If he had but stayed! Or been able to return earlier! Was there anything he could have done to prevent his father's slide into crook'd and gibbering ailment? Probably not. Only this did nothing to soften the guilt he felt for his overlong absence. It was allayed only by the fact that his father only seemed the worse at night, after the sun had set. During the day, Reverend Stone remained the devout and zealous servant of God that he had always been! Perhaps it was the pull of the moon upon his mind, Ebenezer had heard of such same in London, that the elderly might become most vexing after the daylight hours. He was no physic, though. And were he a more superstitious man, he might well have called witchcraft for his father's late night regressions; only he was a learned man, who had seen more of the world than his parents had ever intended.

Reaching the desk once again, he paused to trim the wick of the lantern and set himself to his task again.

There was a flicker of movement outside along the edge of the forest. Ebenezer prided himself on a sharp eye. What was this? Someone about beneath the full moon? It was unheard of for the good Christians of the town to be out and about so late, himself excused the excess as all knew his dedication. Savages, then. For the most part, their relations with the natives had remained peaceful of late, although there were incidents that often arose to the sorrow of all. Fearing such folly again, he quickly stole to his chest and produced a pair of worn wheel-lock pistols. Ensuring they were loaded and primed, Ebenezer softly padded out of the house after the figure. The shadows of night were a great help to concealing the Puritan black he now wore.

The sight that caught his eye as he crept forward stunned him. A young girl... No, a woman! Mirabelle, he recalled after a moment, dancing unashamedly beneath the stars and moon without a care, displaying... joy. Hadn't his father said something about her forthcoming marriage to the judge's son? He remembered her vaguely of old from before he had been sent away. Ebenezer found he could not keep his eyes off of her now, party from intoxication at the way she moved with such abandon and party from fear. He did not believe in witches, no. Many other evils that he had seen and experienced, yes. But not witches. Now confronted with the sight of this woman stepping lightly in time to some hidden music, and, lo! Speaking to some unseen thing! He pursed his fine lips as he re-evaluated his stance on the matter.

Finally, fearing the temptations arising in his own soul, Ebenezer called out to her from the shadows in a hushed hiss. So expertly hidden was he that she would have found it near impossible to locate where he obscured himself with the brush and shadows of the moonlit trees.

"Why do you dance, then?"

Mirabella was indeed enjoying herself as she danced, feeling the same joy she had when both of her parents were alive and used to dance in the middle of their living room. It was this joy from dancing that kept her going during the day, even as she lived with that horrid man she would soon call husband. Laughing to herself, she spun about more, hopping from rock to rock playfully, that is, until a hushed voice reached her ears and fear paralyzed her for a moment. She quickly turned around to face whoever it was that had spoken to her. At first she couldn't pinpoint where the person was, or who it was, but soon caught a slight movement in the brush and there, dressed in black and crouched down, was none other than Ebeneezer Stone, the preacher's son, and very well soon to be the new preacher for the town.

With wide blue eyes, she slowly took a few steps back, almost tripping over roots in the process, her mind racing on what she could possibly do in this situation. Run? No, she was agile, but it was very likely he was faster and more surely stronger than she. Scream for help? As much as screaming and claiming he had taken her form her home and brought her out her with intentions of harm seemed the easier option, it was a lie and she wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing he would get in trouble by the judge for something he hadn't done just because she wanted to stay out of harms way.

That left staying and trying to talk her way out of this dreadful situation. She took a few more steps back, fear written on her face as moved. In attempt to quickly fix herself, she moved her hands up, putting her long brown hair back into a bun(as it was frowned upon for a young woman to wear her hair loose when outside of the home and most certainly so around a man she had no relations to). She spoke, her voice shaky as her hands grasped the tree lightly for support on the uneven ground beneath her bare feet, "I....I....the dancing....it....it bring me joy sir. It is why I danced." She knew that sounded strange to him or anyone else in the village, that such a forbidden thing as dancing would bring anyone joy, but it did her. It reminded her of her parents. And reminded her that she could still feel happy given her circumstances.

She looked down for a moment before her worried eyes looked back up at him, "Are....are you going to tell anyone?" Before he could even answer her question, she spoke quickly, "Please....please don't tell anyone. Especially the judge or his son. I-if they find out they have me accused for witchcraft and strung up. I'm no witch, I swear to you." Her eyes looked at him pleadingly, searching for understanding, "Please...."

Ebenezer watched with interest as she faltered to a stop, pleading and swearing that she was no witch. Convicting her of such a crime would not take much, he knew, as he had been witness to several interrogations, hearings and trials during his time in Europe. The Germanies, especially, had been the most... instructive. Here in the colonies and far from true civilization, it would take even less to have her hanged. The idea of seeing a rope about her slender neck left him... uneasy.

"Not a witch, you say? That is a statement the congregation might find difficult to accept, mistress." He stood now and eased himself out into the clearing nonchalantly, hands behind his back and chin held just a touch high as though pondering the sky overhead. "You have, intentionally or no, lured a young preacher from his home in the middle of the night. You then, in your bedclothes no less, proceeded to dance wantonly about beneath a full moon before him, pausing only to speak with a forest creature in such a manner as to indicate that an actual conversation was taking place." Ebenezer spread his hands outwards to indicate his own helplessness at seeing the situation any other way as he lowered his gaze towards where she half cowered. "Even in the finest cities of Europe, it would be hard not to find you guilty of witchcraft based on just that sole testament of a learned man."

Finding a convenient rock at hand, he sat himself upon it in a relaxed manner. "However that may be, I am, to my grief, a learned man. I do not believe you a witch, only a woman falling to far more mortal temptations than to actual evil. A lesser sentence, in most cases. Banishment, at worst. Although such an exile would no doubt prove fatal as there are few places within walking distance that might provide you with any succor, and the local natives have little use for another mouth to feed."

He paused to rub at his chin in consideration of her plight. "So what to do with you then? Do you propose a bargain, perhaps, something of yours in exchange for my silence?" He cocked an eyebrow as another thought came to him, a strange phrasing of her words that seemed odd. "And when you decry 'the judge or his son', why does it sound you fear more the latter than the former? I would think the father the more dangerous to you."

More fear swelled in Mira as the man before her spoke, talking of all the things he could accuse her of. Luring a preacher out of his home and into the forests. Dancing before him in only her nightdress. It wasn't like she had done so purposefully. He must have seen her when she was leaving the judge's son's home and followed her here. Had she known he had been there watching her, she wouldn't have done any of those things. She knew he was right though. The congregation would have her neck if they discovered this little mishap. And with her father gone now, there would be no one there to speak good word of her. After all, she was just the strange un-social social girl who spent all her time reading and shut up in the home of the judge's son. No one would have any trouble calling her a witch and having her killed. No one would miss her if they did either. She hung her head, looking down at the ground as he continued to speak.

He considered what to do with her, saying he didn't believe her to be a witch, yet knowing what she had done here was wrong. He and she both indeed knew she wouldn't last a day out in the wilderness surrounding the settlement and if the natives found her they would likely bash her skull in or sell her off as a slave to another tribe. No options were emerging from the young preacher's pondering and Mira was starting to get nervous that the only option would indeed be to hand her over to the judge and let him deal with her, giving her the punishment proper for what she had done, or what they thought she had done, wrong here.

Mira looked up when he asked curiously why she seemed to be more afraid of the Judge's son than the Judge himself, saying he would have thought she would fear the judge more, for he would seem to be more of a danger to her. She had been so sure everyone in town had to know what was going on with she and the judge's son. Almost everyone had seen the bruises that littered her pale skin and talked about what was happening. But than again, this young preacher had just returned to the settlement after his long education over seas. He had most likely yet to hear the whispers of the abuse she was going through. Or if he had, he was acting as if he hadn't. And in the pale light given by the moon, the marks must have been difficult to see. She averted her gaze, rubbing her bare arms to keep from the night chill, not daring to retrieve her cloak to slip on, for she had discarded it on the ground, next to the rock the preacher rested on, "The son can be just as, if not more dangerous, then his father....he is quick to punish harshly for imperfections."

When he proposed a bargain, she looked back at him, a deep frown on her face. She didn't have much. Her father had been a poor book keeper and every cent he once had was gone by now. And she was sure that the preachers son would rather see her hang than pay the preacher for his silence. She thought worriedly for a moment, but an idea came to mind and reaching up, she unclasped the thin silver chain from around her neck, pulling it off and showing him the locket, "This is all I have. Any money I did have went to my father's burial a little over a month ago. My father gave it me the day I was born so I was hesitant to sell it. But it is good silver. It should get you some money." She knew it wasn't much, but it was all she had that was of value. Even if she didn't want to part from it, if it was the only way to keep him silent she would give it up.

The offer of the locket caused Ebenezer to burst out laughing. "You offer me money? Oh, please. I finally have my father's... difficulties... near resolved, trying though it's been. I have no use for money." A hand negligently waved away the offer.

"But your betrothed," he started once his chuckles died away. The church scholar became thoughtful as he mused out loud, the easiest way for him to organize his thoughts outside of pen and parchment. "You live in his household though you are not yet married, a marriage arrange by your father from what gossips wag. So you must have no other family to shelter you, your betrothed being the closest to relation as you might have. As it is his household, he has the right to discipline you as he sees fit. To whit, with his fists. I can see now why the son is more terrible than the father!"

Falling to silence, Ebenezer let his thoughts ruminate further in search of a solution. As his mind worked, his body drew attention to other facts. Mirabella was a young woman, a comely young woman in fact, whose innocent nature seemed only to increase her attraction. His eyes seemed to continually seek out the gentle curves of her neck as they graced their way downwards, and the way the pale skin of her bear arms glowed in the moonlight made him think of other moonlit nights and other women. Not to mention the tantalizing glimpses of her bare ankles below her slips.... Mind and body agreed on an idea then. It was a solution born of lust and opportunity, but one that would serve them both nicely. No doubt it would cause other troubles within the community. Only there were few situations in which problems would not arise. And this one came to his benefit.

After all, a married man was more respectable than a single one. Such respectability would make his past all the harder to find him.

"Refuse the choice put upon you to marry him," he abruptly burst forth. "It is your right, though you are not expected to ever use it. They might argue custom and tradition, but the judge himself can not argue the law. Quit his house and his hand, seek another family to watch over you and keep you from falling into such temptations. Once under another man's roof and wed to him, the judge's son has no claim upon you."

Ebenezer stood then and moved close to her, the warmth of his body within inches of hers. Save that there was nothing overly warm in his eyes as he looked down at her frightened face. "There is the price of my silence, Mirabella. Keep you your silver. Marry me instead and be free of that brute while learning a proper wife's due and duty. Give yourself to me, and I shall give you my silence."

He slowly raised his hand as though to stroke her cheek but without actually touching. No, she would have to lean into that caress if she so chose. "You'll not find me an unkindly husband, Mirabella. And in time, as the preacher's wife, you shall have more security than you had ever dreamed of."

When he refused her offer of the locket, Mirabella frowned more, carefully clasping the trinket back around her slender neck before looking back to the preacher, an unsure and slightly confused look upon her face. If he didn't want money, then what did he want out of a bargain. It was only when he continued to speak, mentioning her engagement to the Judge's son, that she began to see the lines connect. This young man didn't want money no. He wanted something that she was horrified to give up. He wanted she herself. She watched him with fear in her wide eyes and she trembled as he stood and made his way over to her, even flinching slightly when he reached his hand so close to her face. She looked up at him, a upset look gracing her beautiful face, "M...myself? For your silence?"

He was so close to her that it was difficult for her to think. Her breath caught in her throat and her chest ached. Her trembling hands that had held onto the tree next to her clutched there tightly as she tried to think of another option. Another solution. But, there were none. This was her only choice. Marry him, or be accused of witchcraft and killed. She looked back at him tensely, feeling so cornered and without escape of her fate to come. The fate of becoming wife to, as she now saw him, a manipulative man who took a situation and twisted it to benefit himself. And yet, wasn't that every man in this town. Her sad blue eyes on him, she sighed, giving in and nodding, "I....I agree. "

She wasn't all too sure how they would go about this. If she would tell the Judge's son herself that she was leaving him, or if the young preacher would go with her. Surely if she went alone to tell him she would face another storm of beatings and threats. But at the same time, she didn't expect him to come along. But it was his choice. Wrapping her arms around herself, feeling his eyes more than once glance over her body, she attempted to turn slightly as to hide from his sight, but it was working very poorly, especially with him being so close now, "One what day would you have me in the court house?"

In other words, she wished to know when they would go tot he court house to have the marriage recorded. She already for it strange enough a preacher would act in this manner, so she thus had no idea how and when he wanted to go about doing this. Her eyes stayed on him, waiting to hear his plans of how this would take place.

He lowered his hand with a soft smile, a grin that was less lear and more calculating. She thought he was after her body alone! Oh, how Ebenezer wanted to correct her, to let her know that to have such a woman for a wife was only a secondary benefit, that she was providing him with far more than a mere excuse for acceptable conjugation! Far more, in fact, than he might ever reveal to her. And after all, as good Christians they should not let vanity hold such sway, not his taking pride in having one such as she for a lawful mate.

Mirabelle's next question was a good one, the answer to which came to him as readily as the question itself. "Tomorrow morning just after you have broken your fast, come to my father's house. You say you have no other goods of worth, so leave all else behind save that which you wear; my father, in his ailment, still has kept many of my mother's clothing and that which we can not have tailored to you we shall buy later. Should any press you as to the reason for the visit, merely say that you go in seek of spirit counseling before your wedding. That will be true enough. From there we shall straight to the courthouse go and have the matter settled with my own father as witness; after my prolonged departure, he will be too happy to see me wed and a woman to tend the house again that he will not question it. Should you not appear by mid-morning..."

The last he left hanging, both a threat to their bargain and a promise to see to her well being. "This will not be easy for either of us, you understand. We shall face condemnation, even though what we do is legal. But in this arrangement both you and I will gain far more in the long run, and in time all gossip might be stilled." Only then his face darkened into a far more somber countenance. "There is one thing I will make clear to you now, Mirabella, one thing that you must never do. By no means are you to ever call me by the informal names of 'Ben' or 'Benjamin.' The formal 'Ebenezer' must always be first at your lips when you speak of me or address me, especially around strangers. Even should you come to love me or hate me at some later date, do not utter either of those names."

He bent low to scoop her cape from the ground as though bowing to her. Presenting the garment to her, Ebenezer quietly gave his wife-to-be her first command. "Go you now, Mirabella, and come to me on the morrow."

Mirabella listened to the instructions given to her carefully, making sure she had all in mind. She was quite surprised that he proposed they be wed in the morn of the next day she had to say. She would have thought he would have chosen to wait at least a few more days before proceeding with the wedding. But then again, she supposed this was all the better for her sake. It gave him less time to change his mind and turn her in. When he looked at her darkly and spoke sternly to her, she shuddered lightly, saying a small 'yes sir' in agreement to his request. She didn't understand why she was forbidden from calling him those names, but if he felt so strongly of it, she would keep it in mind.

She watched with her bright blue eyes as he bent down to pick up her cloak and hand it to her before giving her orders to go back home and come to him in the morning. She nodded slowly, taking the cloak and wrapping it around herself, she moved silently and quickly through the woods, back to the judge's son's home, where she was stay for her last night as a unwed young woman.
...
The next morn was a flurry of emotions. She was so fearful to tell the judge's son she no longer wished to marry him. She was scared of what he might do to her. And she was rightfully so, for when she told him she wished to break their engagement, he struck her. A few times in fact, including one good time across her face, leaving a bright red mark that was slowly fading but left smaller purple mark across her pale cheek. It was light and barely noticeable, but was a bruise none the less. Her arms were also riddled with bruises from which he had grabbed her and jerked her about. If she had not managed to escape his grasp and rush out of the door, he most likely would have done worse to her. She did as Ebeneezer said then, going to the preacher's house with nothing but what she wore, a white dress with a blue cloak wrapped about her.

She took a shaky breath and knocked on the door of the home, glancing about nervously for the time being, wishing for Ebeneezer to hurry and allow her into the house before someone spotted her there an decided to ask questions, as she was a terrible liar and would not do a good job at telling the lie he had told her to give to anyone whom dared ask.

"This flies in the face of our very being!" the preacher roared at his son. Ebenezer ignored his father, concentrating instead on running the finely honed razor across his jaw. There was no denying that this was as far from custom as he could allow, but it was still all very legal, even if his Praise-God Stone saw it otherwise. "The judge is her guardian," his father continued in a rant, "He has not given his permission for this. You barely know her, you do not love her, she does not love you! And age! I did not agree with her father's wish for her to marry so young, but you! You are scarcely that much older! And are you aware that she could well face fines for defying her legal guardian in this! And once wed it is a done matter, not unless she can not bear children to term!"

Ebenezer shrugged as though to finally acknowledge his father's point. Wiping away the last of the soap, he glanced over his shoulder at where his stood, balancing his weight upon the two canes. "She does not love Enoch Mayhew any more than I. Less even, I wager. And so this marriage will have more tenderness in it than she has experienced so far.." He set aside the town to turn towards his father calmly. "Did you know he beats her?"

The preacher frowned and muttered something beneath his breathe. "Oh, so you do know!" triumphed his son. "It is not even Enoch's house! It is Judge Mayhew's! If anyone had the right to discipline her, it would be the father and not the son! Enoch acts as though they are already wed in every manner save the main. Well. I. Will. Not. Stand it! You worry on whether or not we love each other. Did her father give any such consideration? Or Judge Mayhew? Call it then a Christian love to save her from the beatings that no one, no one! Has attempted to succor her from."

Falling into a chair, the Reverend Stone set aside his canes to wring his hands together. "There will be trouble, Ebenezer. You could well split our congregation."

Now Ebenezer's temper was up, his face reddening in anger as he snatched his coat and hat from the bed. He heard the knock upon the door but was not content in leaving without the final word in this, his voice quite clearly heard through the door. "Are the feelings of the congregation of a higher value to God than the abuse of a girl who has done nothing?! Shall we condemn her to suffer because of her fortunes, leaving her to rot so as to avoid trouble?! Yes, father, I will admit it. I have my own reasons for wanting this marriage. I know the sins within my heart far better than you might ever know, and by God's mercy than you ever will know! That does not waiver the fact that the right and Christian thing to do is to get her out of that house! Marriage solves a number of problems for both her and I. So I pray you, father. Will you stand as witness with your blessing?"

His father ruminated. "Companionship. Harmony. Fulfillment. Security. These are the tenants upon which our marriages are based." He looked up to his son sharply. "Will you hold to these principles, Ebenezer? Will you try to learn to love one another?"

These was no hesitation. He could not allow himself to hesitate, not if he was going to get his sire's consent to all of this. Nor was it a hard thing for him to promise; while he did not love Mirabella, nor she him, how could he not at least make the attempt. That he knew little of wooing or courtship was another matter. "Yes, father. I will try!"

Reverend Stone sighed, then flicked his hands towards the doorway. "Go. Answer the door and bring her hence."

Ebenezer nodded sharply in thanks to the old man before hurrying towards the door. He opened the door swiftly and smiled to see her there waiting. There was something so... innocent... about her, an aspect to her charm that made this entire scheme all the more appealing. He wondered what it would take a bring a flush to that heavenly face. The smile faded when he saw the bruises. Enoch had not let her go without a fight, which meant there would be more of a fight to come. The judge's son was far taller and stronger than the preacher's son, a physical threat that could not be ignored. Ebenezer, however, had two things that Enoch did not: intelligence and... experience. As though to try and comfort her, he raised his hand much as he had the last night, slowly, gently, only this time he allowed his fingertips to touch her cheek, tracking the line of the bruise. He sighed, extending his hand to her. "My father wishes to see you ere we go, Mirabella."

Mirabella stood in front of the door worriedly, waiting for someone to answer the door, only hear a voice form inside speaking quite loudly. It was Ebeneezer, speaking to who Mira assumed to be his father. He was speaking to his father, about her. Saying he would not let the opinions of the congregation stop he from doing what was right in God's eyes by saving her from her abuse. It was quiet for a moment after that and very soon she heard footsteps. Mira looked up when Ebeneezer opened the door and breathed a slight sigh of relief that he had came to the door before anyone had come to question her about her being present at the doorstep.

She saw his smile falter and winced lightly when his fingertips brushed the fresh bruise on her cheek. It was a gentleness she was not used to. She looked at him with her bright blue eyes, an unsure look on her face, for she was truly unsure how this gentleness shown by him made her feel. She knew there was safety. But if there was anything else then she could not point it out. Not just yet anyway.

She hesitantly reached out, nodding as she took his hand, "Very well." She followed him forward into the house carefully, looking around, her grip tightening on his hand out of nervousness, coming into the room where his father sat.

The scarecrow of an old man was waiting for her in his chair, brooding. He was obviously disturbed by the turn of events, soldiering on in his role as the preacher despite lingering reservations. Frankly, this worried Ebenezer to a degree: his father had always been a man of towering will and dominance, a man who seemed to know the world and the people within it for what they were and was never easily swayed. Now, huddled within the wooden armchair, it was becoming obvious that Reverend Stone was nearing the end of his days. "Father," he announced dispassionately, "This is Mirabella."

Ebenezer did not let go of Mirabella's hand as he presented her to his father, though his grasp was light and gentle in her fingers.

Sighing again, Reverend Stone looked up at her from hooded eyes, a frown dancing about his lips as he debated the wisdom behind any of this. Only he had already agreed. Praise-God Stone was a man known to always keep his word in the end, a reputation that Ebenezer had ensured would remain intact by settling his debts. "Mirabella," he began with a wheeze, "My son has told me that the two of you wish to be wed. He and I have discussed this matter and your situation to... some degree. I ask you now, as both his father and as this community's spiritual leader, do you agree to this of your own will? Will you... try... to love each other in God's eyes? For once this is done, it is not a thing easily undone."

Ebenezer opened his mouth to say something, only to be stopped as the Reverend raised his hand in forbearance. The preacher focused on the girl alone as he stated, "Tell me this now, promise it to me before God and I will... give you my blessing."

Truth be told, standing before Reverend Stone was quite intimidating and scary. Still, she remained calm in appearance and continued to hold Ebeneezer's hand tightly as if seeking silent support as she was spoken to and questioned by his father. When asked the important question if she could possibly try to love his son. Her blue eyes moved from the old man to Ebeneezer, looking at him for a moment, before she looked back at the old man.

She spoke softly, nodding her head, "Yes sir. I will try to love him." How could she not at least try. After all, if she wad going to be married to him, she couldn't constantly avoid him or hate him. She would attempt to be a loyal and loving wife, it was the least she could do.

She really hoped this all turn out okay. That this marriage, even though having been arranged on not the best terms, would be one neither would come to regret. Maybe they would even come to love each other one day. Only time and God would be able to tell.

She held onto her future husband's hands hand firmly, her eyes on the old man, waiting for his final agreement and blessing so the three of them could make their way to the courthouse.

The walk towards the courthouse drew far more attention that Ebenezer would have preferred. It was not just that his father, lame and stooped with age as he was, did not move with any speed. Nor was it the just sight of Ebenezer himself, a man gone so long from the colony that he may as well have been a stranger, was already walking with a young lady. No. It was that the young lady was Mirabella. She had kept herself to long from the sight of others that people stared wide at the very vision of her walking about in daylight, a habit far from her supposed nature. And as those staring eyes focused upon the hand that held hers, tongues began to wag and rumors arose. Enoch Mayhew's bride to be?? Walking out with the preacher's son?? What scandal was this that was blossoming in their midst, that one man would take another's wife intended for himself?? Thankfully the combination of Ebenezer's self confidence and the iron-hard scowl upon his father's face kept the gawkers at bay.

At least until they entered the courthouse. There, clerks were thrown into a tizzy as they tried to figure out what to do. Was this legal? Could Ebenezer marry her when she had been promised to another man? They stalled and stalled and stalled while someone sent for the magistrate, Matthias Willford and then for Judge Mayhew and his son Enoch. All the same protests were brought up that Ebenezer's father had already raised. Each of them Ebenezer shot down with poise and grace, quoting Scripture and law in equal measure unit even his father was greatly impressed, all the while leaving out the implications of Mirabella's bruisings and beatings. He would not have her begin their life together in pity. Soon other aldermen were called in as they awaited Magistrate Willford, and these aged men, too, found themselves under the guns of Ebenezer's assurance and learning. Even so, the bulwarks of custom and tradition... what is expected... were difficult to breach by reason, logic and law.

All the while, Ebenezer held Mirabella's hand. He would not willingly give her up. Not just for her sake, but for his as well.

Finally the magistrate arrived with both Judge Mayhew and his son in tow. The clerks all excused themselves as the fat burgher bellowed out, "What is all of this then! I am told, Reverend Stone, that your son and Enoch's betrothed wish to be wed!"

Ebenezer answered instead. "You are correct, sir! And we have had quite the time in having so simple a matter delivered to us! With respect, I beg you show me the law that says we can not!"

"She is mine!" roared the massive Enoch, who would have been called handsome if not for his sheer bulk in muscle. It was a face that, like the rest of his body, was far too defined to even be called craggy. A thick finger jabbed out violently at Mirabella. "Her father and mine had a legal agreement, that we were arranged to be wed when she was of eighteen years!"

"And I do not give my consent," asserted the Judge. "As my ward, she is under my house and my rule. I forbid this marriage to take place!"

Ebenezer, by now, had had more than enough. His voice cracked like thunder throughout the courthouse, clerks in other halls and rooms hearing him as clearly as a ship's captain bellowing his orders to a crew. "Forbid all you like, sirrah! It is true you are her legal guardian. But! She may still wed without your consent, at the worst of a stiff penalty which we shall pay, money that goes to you all the same as you are the judge! AND, if I may remind you of your jurisprudence, she retains the right to counter sue you should you deny her her choice! We will be married all the same. As for you, Enoch Mayhew!" he growled. "I care not what 'legal' arrangements have been made. She does not love you. If there is no kindling of love at all, then by our own customs and decrees such a marriage would nullified. I have pledged my hear to Mirabella, which I daresay is more than you have!"

Then, in far gentle tones, he turned to Mirabella and smiled. He knew their marriage was going to be something of a pretense for them both, but surely it was pretense she could accept in place of a husband who would no doubt be the death of her? "Tell them, Mirabella," he coaxed softly, "Tell them you do not love Enoch, and that you would consent to marry me instead."

Mirabella didn't like the stares she got as she, Ebeneezer and Reverend Stone walked through the town. She walked along, tense and close to her future husband, as they made their way to the courthouse. It was a slight relief when they made it to the courthouse and out of the gawking eyes of the townsfolk, but that relief didn't last long when the questioning started. Ebeneezer did wonderfully in answering the questions and giving scriptures so as to convince them that this marriage was very lawful. And everything was looking just fine, that is, until the judge and his son walked into the room, immediately throwing out accusations and denying her the right to marry considering the arrangement made previously and traditions.

This made her back up nervously and flinch when Enoch pointed his finger at her. She was fearful that they might actually win this argument at that point. But, thankfully, Ebeneezer was quick to speak up and shoot down every comment the judge or his son gave. It was when Ebeneezer turned to her, changing his tone and speaking gently to her, that her eyes widened at hearing his command for her to tell them how she felt. She looked on nervously at the glared of the judge and his son, causing her to shrink back lightly against Ebeneezer. When she did speak, it was quiet and trembling though very sure of her decision, "I do not, nor have I ever, loved Enoch. I do not wish to marry him. I wish to marry Ebeneezer Stone."

She stayed very close to Ebeneezer, fearing that the strong Enoch might lash out at her if she got too close. Her blue eyes moved about the people in the courtroom, hoping that her stating that would help their situation and have she and Ebeneezer wed so she would not have to go back to Enoch. And even more so, so that Ebeneezer would not tell the court of her late night dance in the woods. Tense and nervous, she awaited to hear and see what the reaction of all in the room would be.

The reaction was stunned silence. All of them... Enoch, Judge Mayhew, Magistrate Willford, the clerks who had remained, even Ebenezer himself... stared at her as she made her pronouncement. Ebenezer had been fairly sure she would go through with it; he did feel a tad bad about blackmailing Mirabella into this marriage, but she would learn that it would be for the best all around. In time. The others were simply stunned that a young girl would assert herself so before so many of the village's leaders! It was Reverend Stone, of all people, that broke the silence.

"It would seem that the young lady has made her mind and heart clear to us, good sirs," he advised in a quavering voice. "As we are Christians, we can not allow her to marry a man she does not love. A marriage without love is... anathema to our society. The law must be in service to God's will, not its master, and so as your clergyman I would give my blessings to this union between Mirabella and my son."

Judge Mayhew frowned as he glanced at the preacher. "Of course, you approve. He is your son, is he not? We will seek lawsuit in this matter." His son nodded sharply with a scowl to match.

"A lawsuit," Magistrate Willford advised, "That you will have to recuse yourself from, Mayhew. You may not sit in judgement in case involving yourself and you son together."

"Nor should you give spiritual counsel in this, Reverend Stone," threatened Enoch, his massive brow furrowed in thwarted anger. "You should recuse yourself as well!"

The rest of the collective men glanced in his direction and coughed in embarrassment before his father leaned in to whisper, "A preacher can not recuse himself in spiritual matters, Enoch. Not unless he comes in direct conflict with the teachings of Christ and then must be brought before his brethren." His glare then settled towards the Reverend. "We can, however, seek a new clergymen."

"By which time," Ebenezer cooed, "it will be too late. Magistrate Willford. Will you record this marriage between myself and Mirabella this day. Now?"

Seeing no other option, Willford slowly nodded. "I can see no other course to take, other than to advise you all against any of this. But as the young lady has made her wishes clear... and Ebenezer here has shown both his commitment to the marriage and his knowledge of law and Scripture..." He nodded reluctantly again. "You are considered wed in the eyes of the law."

"And in the eyes of God," added her new father-in-law. "All that remains is for you to consummate your marriage."

Enoch'ss eyes went to narrow slits, his lips twisting in hate. "And may God have mercy on your souls," he spat before stalking out, his father at his heels.

The day won, for the moment, Ebenezer took Mirabella's other hand in his so that they faced one other. With another gentle smile, he whispered softly to her, words said so quietly that they were almost mouthed. "You have kept to your promise. I will keep to mine."

Mirabella was grateful indeed that things had turned out well for Mira and Ebeneezer. Though she knew this would likely not be the end of this war, they had won the battle for the day. She let out a sigh of relief and looked up at him when he took his other hand and faced her. She nodded to the words he spoke quietly. She was safe now. She was free from the abusive and terrifying Enoch, and she wouldn't be accused of witch craft for her dancing in the woods. Everything had turned out okay for her after all. She smiled at Ebeneezer for the first time since their meeting in the woods and squeezed his hands lightly, whispering a small 'thank you'.

She watched as the judge and his son stormed out of the court house before she looked back to him, "May we return to the house?" She to be honest, just wanted to get away from the eyes of the people in the courthouse. She never liked being around too many people, being not much of a social person in the first place so to have them all stare at her was quite uncomfortable to her. She would be much more at ease once they were back in the Reverend's home. She supposed her home now as well.

She wondered what it would be like for her now. The wife of a young preacher. How would people look at her. How her life in the home would be? Would she be able to spend most of her time in the home as she had before, or would she be forced to interact with others in the settlement? How would her marriage life with Ebeneezer be? She guessed all this would just have to be found out as she went along. She brushed a stray strand of her curly brown hair back from her face, tucking it neatly back into the bun as she awaited for her new husband to take the lead back to the house.

The matter recorded and the dead done, the clerks dispersed to their own duties even as the magistrate shook his head at Ebenezer. "I would not say ill of Judge Mayhew, who has served this community well for almost as many years as your father-"

"But you fear the matter is not settled with his son," concluded Ebenezer piously. "I will trust to God to grant him the wisdom in this, and pray for tranquility, Magistrate." Willford shook his head again, then lowered his eyes towards the preacher significantly. Reverend Stone nodded in turn wearily before saying, "Ebenezer, take your wife home. There are additional matters that I will need to discuss. She is young and was raised without benefit of maternal guidance, so she may as of yet be unaware of her duties."

Leading Mirabella out and back down the road to his house upon the colony's edge, Ebenezer spoke quietly to her as they walked. Whenever those passing by might stare at them curiously or in astonishment, the preacher's son would merely nod pleasantly at them to wish them a good day. Still hand in hand with the younger woman, he limited their walk to a slow amble so as to not appear rushed. Should they scurry out of public sight too quickly, tongues would wag all the faster! They would either be seen as too eager to the marriage bed or too afraid of Enoch's wrath, neither of which would put them in good standing with their neighbors. So the walk home became a stroll. And instruction.

"To be sure you know your duties, I will remind you of them now, wife." Ebenezer's tone was casual, nonchalant even. "Keeping the house and seeing to the laundry, including mending, of course. What shopping as needed and cooking. You will have your own purse for such expenses, although any large purchases should be checked by myself first. Should I succeed my father here as preacher, there will be additional duties to learn. The laying out of the dead, for example. It may also be useful for you to learn midwifery; while not considered an acceptable occupation for the wife of a clergyman, it seems many women... or more often their mothers... ask that the preacher's wife often stand in attendance. As the preacher's daughter-in-law, you will also be expected to help keep clean the house of God."

Ebenezer then squeezed her hand as they neared the front yard to his home... their home. "And of course, there is the ultimate duty to God. Procreation." He stopped them before the doorway and took up both hands in his again. "Despite what I suspect Enoch may have implied to you, it is not just about your duty to me. It is also my duty... to you."

Mira nodded and listened to each of the instructions given to her that were of course wifely duties. Most of those things she had already been doing, seeing as since her mother had died, she had been the only woman in any household she had lived in. She cooked. She cleaned. She mended clothing as well as keeping them clean. She hadn't done all the shopping, as many times either her father or Enoch had accompanied her to have their say in what they would like to eat, but if Ebeneezer gave her instructions on what he would like her to get, she was sure she could do the shopping on her own. All of these things were what she expected as a wife and only woman of the household.

She wasn't too sure how she felt about midwifery. As she had no siblings, nor had she never been present for a birth throughout her entire lifetime, she had no idea what happened during child birth. The thought made her nervous a bit. What would she have to do? Would she just be present for the birth, or would she be actually assisting with the birth? She supposed she would have to train under another woman before taking up that task. That, or deliver a child of her own. That thought scared her though just as much as being present for someone elses childbirth, if not more so.

As if going off of her thoughts, Ebeneezer mentioned Procreation. She knew exactly what he meant by that, and it made her face flush, her cheeks turning a bright red. She looked up at him, then glanced down nervously, her hands tightening in his to show her slight tension, "To be very honest....I'm slightly fearful. I...I haven't heard much of what a husband and wife do, but I have heard that...that it is painful for the wife on the marriage date." She looked back at him, before she followed him into the house, an unsure look upon her face, "Do you know? If it is painful?"

The question brought him up short. Was it painful? How should he answer?? A claim of ignorance would portray him in light less than favorable, he was sure. When a wife went to her husband for answers, he'd best have them, especially as he was the head of the household! And if neither of them knew, it would only make her all the more anxious, perhaps, when the time came. Yet as a proper and pious young man with a religious background, he should be ignorant of such things! Should he say that it wasn't painful at all would be an outright lie, an option he discarded in the immediate. Yet his only other option was to tell her the truth, a truth she not only may not wish to hear but a truth that could give more light to his past than he cared to shed. Ebenezer thought about his answer carefully, working the best way in his head as to phrase his reply.

"Do I know myself? No." That part was true enough. He had never been a female virgin deflowered, so how could he know? "But I have the understanding that it may hurt, yes. Some women feel next to nothing at all. For others it is an agony quickly washed away in the moment. Others, or so I have heard, may ache for a day or so. A physician friend of mine told me that there is usually some bleeding, but that this is natural and does not last." Ebenezer paused for a moment again as though giving careful thought to the matter, a thought he already had formed long before returning to the colony. Old Jacob the Tar had taught him much in their short time together. He decided to skip the fact that some women might bleed more than once; it was not a 'comfort' his wife needed to hear. "I believe... I believe there are a number of different factors involved as to whether it will hurt or not, and if so by how much and how long, not the least of which is God's will."

Ebenezer raised his hand again to caress her cheek. He did not know why he found such a pleasure in the gesture, why the skin of his fingers sought to trace the contours of her face so readily. No doubt the sin in his heart tempted him. Yet the touch was so gentle upon her that he could not see how it could be sinful. "What I can tell you, wife, is that when the time comes, I shall be as gentle with you as I may be."

Dropping his hands from hers, he pulled forth a ring of keys from within his coat. "I will have others made, but hold you these for now, wife. These keys open all locks within the house save two, and should you find them those locks are best left alone. Explore the house. Find and arrange things to your liking, for it is your house now as much as it is mine and my father's. Although... best to leave his room alone. It is the smaller of the bedrooms near the back of the house." With a glance in the direction of the Judge's house, he added. "For the time being, if I or my father are not home... or if you do not have guests in place of your own choosing.... keep you the door barred. I do not trust Enoch Mayhew to leave the matter be, for even as a child I remember him to be as thick as an ox and more stubborn than a mule, may God forgive me for saying it. I have some business in town to attend to."

Leaning forward, he gave her a kiss upon the forehead. "God keep you safe, Mirabella. I shall return within the hour."