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Authors: Paula Reed

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The couple exchanged baffled looks. “She has not yet chosen to accept any offer that has been made, but I assure you, sir, her reasons were sound. She was ne’er a flighty or capricious child.” Outside, Faith gave hasty thanks to God for her father’s defense.

“She is a fair maid,” Reverend Williams pressed.

“Aye, she is,” her mother replied.

“See you no danger in that? A fair female with no man to claim her is a sore temptation to honest men!”

Jonathan paused, looking long and hard at the minister, who bristled under his scrutiny. “If they are so tempted,” he said at last, “then I must question their honesty.”

“They are but sons of Adam, and a girl such as yours is no less than a daughter of Eve. What honest reason has she to reject the authority of a husband? She is a woman, fully grown. It is long past time that she submit herself to an upright man.”

“I am her father, and she submits herself to me. What say you to that?”

“I say that you are a man who does not show the proper respect for the clergy! Further I would say that you are blinded by a parent’s pride.”

Naomi narrowed her eyes and stopped the argument. “Have you an upright man in mind, Reverend?” At his terse nod, she continued. “I think it is not Aaron Jacobs, although he has recently asked.”

“Nay, Goodwife Cooper, it is not. Goodman Jacobs is too naive, too trusting. Like the rest of this village, your daughter has duped him into believing her a saint.”

“And what is she?” Naomi pressed.

“I have told you, she is bold and a temptress!”

“Who is it that she so tempts?” her father asked, his voice tight with anger. “What man comes to you and casts a shadow upon my daughter’s reputation with his own impure thoughts?”

The minister’s face flushed scarlet before he barked, “That is unimportant! It is clear to me that she will require a far firmer hand.”

Faith’s stomach tied itself into a sickening knot at the minister’s mention of a firmer hand. Only last Sabbath he had castigated the congregation for its leniency with their children. “He that spareth the rod hateth his son!” he had thundered, though there was nary a child present who had not felt the wrath of an angry parent upon his backside. The adults of the town were not brutal, but neither could just accusation be made of softness for their children.

“Have you a firmer hand in mind?” her mother asked.

“Aye. I have come to believe that the only man here who will remain unaffected by her comeliness is myself.”

Him? The minister had come to suggest
himself
as her future husband? Never could she hold her tongue and bow her head day after day in this man’s presence! Never would she find the grace and peace of mind she sought! Her church taught that one’s life’s path was preordained, but surely this was not God’s will. Surely she must have some say in the matter!

“There is naught I would quail to do to keep her upon a righteous path,” he continued. “I have been a widower these four years, and my wife left me no child for comfort. Your Faith is young and strong, and with proper instruction, can be made into a suitable wife and mother, God willing.”

Faith’s heart began to hammer in her chest, and she pressed her hands to her breast as if to muffle the sound. She feared to contemplate the meaning behind his ominous words.

“You?” Jonathan’s voice was deceptively mild, and the minister’s face twisted into a self-satisfied smirk.

“Aye. I would be willing to take on the challenge.”

“The challenge of a fair wife who is known to be kind to her neighbors and faithful to her church? How generous you are, sir. How blessed our fair village to have such a spiritual leader.”

Missing the other man’s sarcasm, Owen Williams nodded. “Well, then, it is settled. We will be wed next month when the weather warms.”

Jonathan replied in a measured tone, “I think not. You may be the new minister here, but I will decide who weds my daughter. I cannot think what has caused you to form such an ill opinion. Perhaps it is because you know her but little.” At Williams’s look of haughty disbelief, Jonathan’s self-control slipped. Raising his voice, he concluded, “I would see her wed to a man who may come to love her as God intended, not one intent only upon squashing her beneath his heel!”

Faith’s breath caught in her throat. Surely her father pushed too far, though she was deeply moved by his loyalty. This man was the village minister and fast friends with the governor of Massachusetts! He would be a powerful foe if her father angered him. The knot in her stomach tightened, and her knees felt like water.

Naomi placed a restraining hand on her husband’s shoulder and in a placating tone said, “My husband is protective, as is his fatherly duty, and we care deeply for our daughter, of course. She is our only girl. Give us time to consider your offer. We would not be hasty in this matter.”

Williams gave her a doubtful look. “Might I ask what there is to consider? Have you some better offer?”

“Better suited, I think,” Jonathan snapped, and Naomi’s eyes widened at the audacious response.

“I will not be rejected like a common farmer! I offer her a life of comfort and not a little prestige. You could do no better by her. As the minister, I have a sacred duty to look after the welfare of this village, and I say that Faith Cooper must wed and that I am the safest choice. I will leave it to you to inform her, but know this: I will not compromise in this matter.”

Naomi’s hand rested lightly upon her husband’s rigid shoulder. “This is very sudden, and I think Faith hoped to accept Aaron. Will you not give us time to accustom her to the idea?”

“You spoil the girl as I will not. Be that as it may, she is yet your concern. Do as you think best, but tell her soon. I bid you good day.”

Chapter 2

 

The reverend turned abruptly toward the door, and Faith fled to the side of the house, not a moment too soon. She leaned against the wall and tried to catch her breath, listening to the minister’s horse as it methodically plodded back to the main road. When Williams’s form disappeared down the path, she returned to the front of the house, halting when she saw her father waiting at the door.

“Did you see your brothers’ handiwork?” he asked.

It was a sin to lie. Faith wrapped her arms about her waist and said, “Nay. I watched at the window.”

Jonathan’s face looked grim. “I told you to go to the joinery.”

“I didn’t want to disobey. You suggested that I go there, but the Reverend Williams and I had spoken before you came, and I did wonder what he sought. It seemed to concern me.”

Not missing his daughter’s pale and anxious face, Jonathan said, “Come in, child. We must speak on this.”

Faith followed her father back into the softly lit interior of the house, where her mother waited by the fire. She idly basted the hen in the pot, but a worried frown creased her brow. Faith’s hands had gone cold, and she trembled, but she assured herself that her parents would look to her welfare.

“She heard,” Jonathan told his wife.

“I see.” Faith’s mother gave her a cross look for her transgression, but compassion softened it before she could entirely shame the girl.

“I listened at the window.” At her parents’ stern faces, Faith dropped her gaze. “I meant no harm, but clearly his business concerned me.”

Jonathan took a deep breath and a long look at his daughter. “Have you any notion why he might think ill of you?”

“Nay, Father! I cannot think how he came to believe me anything other than a dutiful Christian.”

“It may well be that she is not at fault for his opinion of her,” Naomi said to her husband. She cast an anxious look and Faith and then back to Jonathan. “He seemed to rather dwell upon her tempting honest men.”

“Aye, I caught that, as well,” Jonathan replied. “But he is a man of God.”

“Of course,” Naomi agreed. Then she added, somewhat hesitantly, “Still, there is something about him that does not sit well with me.”

Jonathan nodded grimly.

It took all of Faith’s self-restraint not to tear her hair out at their exchange. “So we defer to him in matters of our very souls, even though he inspires no confidence?” she asked.

“This problem is not so simple, Faith,” Jonathan said. “We survive in this harsh land by God’s grace alone. We must think well on it ere we challenge the authority of the church. You are young yet. In time, you will understand.”

Once, it had seemed to Faith that her father had an answer for her every question. Now, quite the opposite of his sentiment, it seemed that circumstances had been much simpler when she was young. It was age and experience that complicated things.

Naomi shook her head sadly. “We have been fortunate, here Jonathan. We have ever had upright leadership. It is understandable that this bewilders Faith.”

Faith turned her hopeful gaze to her mother. “Then you understand?”

“Aye, child, I do. But your father is right. All of us have sacrificed much to build this colony, based firmly upon God’s law. We cannot weaken it from within by defying our own government.”

She took a deep breath and offered Faith a weakly apologetic smile. “It is an honor to be asked to stand at the side of the man who leads our church and our village. Reverend Williams is new here, and mayhap we are, as yet, unused to his zealousness. And it may be that he will soften to you, once he gets to know you.”

“Nay, mother, you cannot mean this!”

An angry hiss escaped through Jonathan’s teeth. “You will not speak that way to your mother! This defiance is most unlike you.”

Faith closed her eyes and forced her features to relax. She had learned long ago to smother her anger, swallow any argument. In her mind she beseeched God for patience.

“Forgive me, Father. I am distraught.”

Jonathan sighed and sank onto the bench, next to the open Bible. “Perhaps your mother and I should discuss this first.”

Faith folded her hands serenely so that only an astute observer would notice that her knuckles were white or that her jaw was tense from gritting her teeth.

Naomi sat in one of the straight-backed chairs and spoke with her accustomed candor. “Nay, let her sit with us. She must understand the whole of the situation. Faith, I think the minister is set in this course.”

“Aye,” Jonathan concurred, although he scowled. “And there are those who will support him. We know well that three of the men she has refused are bitter, and George Mayfield and Roger Smith have considerable influence.”

“And of course,” Naomi added, “there’s always the governor.”

Jonathan gave his wife a skeptical look. “Surely you do not think that the governor will trouble himself over our daughter’s marriage. We are not such important people, Naomi.”

Leaning forward, she replied, “If it is put to him as a matter of Owen Williams’s authority being placed into question, do you really believe he will not defend his friend?”

“Then you truly believe Williams will win her sooner or later?” Jonathan asked.

She leaned back again, a look of defeat in her eyes. “I believe so, and I think it is in Faith’s best interest that we anger him not in the course of this thing. It would not go well for her. We must look to God here.”

The tears that had stung Faith’s eyes could be denied no longer. She knew that she must plead or rage, and that anger had never moved her parents. Whatever the cost, she had to change their minds. “Please, I beg of you, do not marry me to a man who thinks so ill of me. I will marry Goodman Smith or Mayfield if it will soothe them and gain us their friendship.”

Jonathan rubbed his hand across his eyes. The slight slump in his shoulders and his steadfast refusal to look into her eyes spoke all that was in his troubled mind. “We may yet soften his heart. Your mother is right, once he comes to know you…” but he let the sentence drift away, unfinished.

Naomi rose to look out the window. Her eyes scanned the forest beyond, as though she sought something far in the distance. “There is, perhaps, another way.”

Hope lit Faith’s anguished face. “Anything, Mother!”

“It is not your consent that concerns me.” Naomi turned to Jonathan. “We can send her to my sister.”

He bolted from his seat and thundered, “Out of the question!”

“For Faith’s sake, can you not release your harsh judgement of Elizabeth?”

“No one wants Faith’s happiness more than I, but we are talking of her immortal soul!”

“She is strong in her beliefs, and Elizabeth is still a Christian, after all.”

“A Christian? She’s a
Catholic
, Naomi!”

Faith barely registered anything beyond her mother’s first statement. Her mother’s sister? In all of Faith’s life, her mother had never spoken of a sister. Her grandmother, God keep her immortal soul, had spoken of two miscarriages and a young son lost on the journey from England to the Caribbean island of Cigatoo. They had tried to settle the island with others of their faith, but it had been impossible to farm, and they had come here, to New England. By then, her mother had already married another of the island’s settlers, Jonathan. No one had spoken of any other family members. In a daze, she took her mother’s place in the chair by the fire.

“They are Anglican, now,” Naomi said.

“What?”

“Jamaica is English, now, Jonathan. They were allowed to stay because Elizabeth is English, but her husband, Miguel, had to convert.”

“So it is that easy for Elizabeth, is it? Be set firmly upon the path of righteousness, but convert to Catholicism for the sake of a mere man, and when the political winds blow another direction, convert again.” He began to pace in agitation before adding, “And how do you know all of this?”

“I wrote her,” she said, and her voice dared him to challenge her. “Sixteen years ago, when the Spanish were defeated and Jamaica fell to the English. I wanted to know if she was well. I received her reply a year-and-a-half later. We have not written since, but I believe my daughter would be welcome at Winston Hall.”

“Jamaica?” Faith’s timid inquiry brought her parents’ attention back to her. “You have a sister in Jamaica?”

Naomi smiled and moved back to the fireside near her daughter. “Her name is Elizabeth, and her husband is Miguel Fernandez.”

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