Other than the Devil himself, Nathan Crowley was the last person I wanted to see today. Then again, the Devil hadn’t been pestering me for months to become his wife. For a split second I considered cutting across the Trumbles’ property for home, but navigating the road was difficult enough. I wouldn’t make it ten steps through a field without twisting an ankle. As I also lacked the means to fly or vanish into thin air, I heaved an irritated sigh and resigned myself to the inevitable encounter.
To be fair, most folks didn’t share my opinion that Nathan was the most annoying man in Hopewell. A Quaker minister, he exemplified plain living, hard work, and service to those less fortunate. All admirable traits, and for a time I had found his company rather pleasant, if a little overwhelming. Ordinary in both form and feature, it was the fierce intensity in his eyes that set him apart from other men. Although I was never at liberty to consider his proposals of marriage, refusing him had been no trivial matter. Even now, with my betrothed on his way from Ireland, Nathan continued to labor under the delusion that I would soon be his wife.
When we finally met, I nodded in greeting, and then took another step to continue on my way. No sooner had I attempted to pass by than he stepped directly in my path, forcing me to a dead stop. In his shoes he measured a hand taller than my five and a quarter feet, and though he appeared slight in his traditional Quaker garb of brown woolen breeches and coat, it was well known that he didn’t lack for physical strength. A black hat covered his cropped brown hair, the wide brim casting much of his face in shadow. It did nothing to hide his self-sure smile.
“Good day, Selah Kilbrid,” he said pleasantly.
“Good day, Mr. Crowley,” I said, placing particular emphasis on the “mister.” As a Quaker, Nathan did not abide the use of titles, and from the abrupt change of his expression, my insult had been noted. “You will please excuse me. I am expected home without delay.”
“I have just come from Brighmor Hall myself.”
Suspicion flickered inside of me. “Why were you at Brighmor? Did you have business with my father?”
“Yes, but he was indisposed and unable to meet with me. You may relay my best wishes for his improved health.”
“Thank you, Mr. Crowley. I will be sure to deliver your message.” I attempted to sidle past when Nathan moved in step, blocking me once more.
“You may also tell him,” he continued, “that it is time for us to openly declare our intent to marry. If we stand in meeting this Sunday we can be joined by midsummer’s day.”
I blinked several times, stunned by so forward a declaration. “Indeed, sir, you must be jesting.”
“On the contrary, Selah. I’ve no patience for such games and believe my intentions have been adequately clear for sometime now.”
“Then I am very sorry, for my cousin would never forgive me if I broke our engagement after he agreed to sail all the way from Ireland.”
Nathan stretched his thin lips into a patronizing smile. “Your cousin is not a Quaker. The Elders will never approve the match.”
“You forget, Mr. Crowley, that I am also not a Quaker. My name has never been read into the membership.” Though I tried to hide it, my voice shook with anger.
He shrugged indifferently. “I have spoken with the Elders, and they agree you are a member by right of birth.”
A sudden flush of heat burned my cheeks. “You know very well that I was baptized Catholic long before my father joined the Quakers. My mother only agreed to his conversion on the condition that I could decide for myself when I came of age.”
“And yet you turned eighteen in February and continue to attend meeting each week.”
“The nearest Catholic church is fifty miles away!”
“No matter,” he said impatiently. “Unless you stand up with me this Sunday and declare your intent to marry, I will petition the Elders to have you disowned.”
I glared at him, no longer concerned with even the pretense of civility. “Why are you trying to force me into marriage when I have no desire to be your wife?”
For a brief moment the intensity in his eyes surged. “Once I received the call to minister I sought inspiration for a suitable woman to assist me in my work. In a vision I saw your inner light and have been commanded to take you for my spiritual helpmate. It is God’s will for us to marry, to serve together in His vineyard.”
“But I am already engaged! My cousin will be here any day now!”
Nathan shook his head. “Your cousin is not a suitable match. Once the details of your conflicting faiths become known, any reasonable man would realize the marriage was failed from the start. As a gesture of goodwill, I shall even reimburse his return passage to Ireland to help compensate for any inconveniences.”
“You can’t honestly think my cousin would be so easily diverted.”
“If you believe him unreasonable, then we can marry before he arrives, to safeguard against any potential claims.”