“You mean a bribe for your elopement?” Ben asked dryly.
“No, I mean something to compensate him for his time and discretion. The fewer witnesses we have the better.”
“Hmph,” Ben said, but didn’t expound any further.
“Then go to the tailor and order more clothing for Henry. He’ll need suitable attire for both work and dress occasions. We’re leaving immediately after the ceremony so arrange for everything to be delivered to Brighmor.”
“What should I do with your cousin’s trunk?”
“Sort through it and keep anything that would be useful for Henry. Otherwise, carefully dispose of the rest so nothing can be traced back to Samuel.” Ben nodded and set off for the door.
“Oh,” I said, catching him just in time. “You should probably also find a goldsmith and purchase two rings.”
“Quakers don’t usually wear jewelry, Selah”
“Neither do they stand in front of the magistrate to be married. I want to make it clear to Nathan that I’ve the law behind me in case he thinks to stir up more trouble.”
When the door closed, I sank back into the chair and closed my eyes.
He must think me insane...which, sadly, was preferable to his knowing the truth. Aside from the obvious risks of being mistaken for a witch and possible death, revealing my real identity ran afoul of one of the four laws that governed my kind. Before leaving Brighmor, I’d done the unspeakable and broken two in the same day while attempting to heal my father against his wishes and then divulging what life remained to influence his final decision. Still unsure of the punishment for these earlier transgressions, I had no intention of crossing another line no matter the reason. Fortunately, the last law remained safe, as I could not conceive of a situation where I might refuse my gift to anyone who asked for help.
Even without the additional knowledge of my unique ancestry, Ben was amply justified in calling me a fool. So set on avoiding a union with Nathan Crowley, I may have traded one devil for another when I’d stepped away from the crate toward the captain and his makeshift desk. At that moment I had become like a rock tumbling downhill, unable to stop on its own accord. As each part of my plan fell into place, I picked up speed, tumbling faster and faster with nothing more than hope to protect me from being dashed into a thousand pieces.
My head hurt like the dickens and I regretted not bringing along some of the basic herbs from my collection at home. At times such as this, immunity to my healing gift proved inconvenient, but the power only flowed one way. No matter, I would send the maid to the apothecary for some dried willow twigs. Then once my trunk was packed and Mrs. Bradford spoken to, I would find the nearest Catholic church and pray to God for mercy on my immortal soul.
*
I stood at the window before dawn on my wedding day, looking down at the street below. Not usually an early riser, I was surprised by the number of people already up and busy. In the early gloom, wagons piled high with barrels and crates stopped at the numerous shops and residences along the street to deliver the necessary goods for another day. Maids passing by had to scurry out of the way to make room for men pushing handcarts brimming with fresh fish and vegetables intended for the supper table. I was supposed to be watching for the magistrate since he was due to arrive any minute, but kept finding my attention diverted by livelier activities.
My own maid had been summoned an hour ago, still bleary eyed with sleep, to lace me into a dark brown silk gown with small coral flowers embroidered on the bodice. Not my first choice as a wedding dress, but it was pretty enough and would do well for travel. My dark hair was looped up in the back, except for a few curls left loose to soften my face. When she finished, I found the final results pleasing, though a far cry from how I imagined a bride should look.
The sun slowly crept over the horizon, and there was still no sign of the magistrate in the hubbub below. Ben ensured me he had found a willing individual, but as more minutes slipped by I started to wonder if he would ever show or had promptly forgotten the appointment once my money had been pocketed. It would be a great inconvenience indeed having to trek down to the courthouse for the wedding, not to mention the possibility of being denied on such short notice. I began to ignore the wagons and handcarts, focusing instead on every well-dressed man who came into sight.