“How so?” he asked curiously, his tone softening.
“According to lore, a witch is by nature a carnal creature and would never have waited to consummate the marriage. Believe it or not, our sleeping apart is more a reflection on my innocence than your manhood. With my mother gone, I assume half the matrons are plotting how best to inform me of my wifely duties and what I must do to start a family.”
My explanation must have worked, for Henry was smiling again. “And do you know what it takes to start a family?”
“Of course I do. Not that it’s any of your concern,” I huffed.
Henry chuckled at my indignation and then fell silent as we took a few more turns on the chessboard. “How long do you think we’ll be able to keep up this charade?” he asked after a moment.
His question surprised me. “For as long as need be,” I said. My neighbors might be concerned with my situation at present, but soon enough they would grow bored of our affairs and move on to something new.
The game looked to be a stalemate when by a series of lucky moves Henry backed my king into a corner. “Checkmate,” he said quietly.
I studied the board for any possible options, but he was right and I nodded to acknowledge my defeat. With a nimble finger, he tipped my king, putting the piece to rest.
Chapter Seven
Quaker Meeting
The dark clouds that had been threatening rain much of the day burst open with a vengeance late that night just as I was climbing into bed. The windows were generally left open on warm nights, and I fell asleep to the relentless hammering of water against the hard ground below. It must have slackened at some point, for I was roused once by the sound of an animal scratching in the dirt somewhere beneath my bedroom window. The rain soon started again, regaining its previous force, and I fell back to sleep until morning.
The rain continued on into the next day, thoroughly drenching the fields and turning the roads into a sloppy mess. As it pelted mercilessly against the windows, I sipped a cup of tea, deciding it best to stay in rather than making more calls and risk getting the shay stuck in the mud. Henry had gone out earlier with Ben on horseback to check the wheat, leaving me to dine alone and silently grouse my lack of company. Married just six days, and on good speaking terms for only two of those, it was surprising how much I missed him this morning. I glanced at the mantel clock and sighed; it would be several hours before he returned.
Resigned to a lonely day at home, I went into the smaller parlor to fetch my book and saw the chess pieces had already been returned to their proper squares. I didn’t welcome the reminder of my unfortunate loss, and vowed to pay closer attention next time no matter what we may be discussing. Taking a seat on the sofa, I had grudgingly opened the book when Alice came in to say I had a caller.
“It’s not Nathan Crowley, is it?” I asked warily.
“No, ma’am, it’s Nora Goodwin. Should I see her back?”
My heart leapt. Without a second thought I snapped the book shut and tossed it aside.
Nora must have been just as eager to see me, for the moment I entered the drawing room, she took hold of both my hands. “My dear Selah, you are simply glowing. I dare say married life has agreed with you. Come sit and tell me everything.”
I laughed at her no-nonsense manner. Following her to the sofa, we sat so close our heads nearly touched as we spoke.
“I can’t believe you came out in this weather,” I said. “You must truly love me.”
“What choice did I have after the scolding you gave poor William yesterday?” she teased. “My guilt had grown so enormous for not calling sooner, I could hardly fit it all into the shay this morning.”
“Did William bring you, then?”
“He dropped me off on the way into town.”
“Why didn’t he stay?”
“He said we needed some private time to catch up with our feminine prattle. In truth, I don’t think his heart could have endured seeing you with Henry again so soon. You can’t imagine the temper he was in after returning from Brighmor yesterday. I believe his being a Quaker was all that stopped him from challenging your husband to a duel.”
“It’s true then,” I said, no longer able to deny Henry’s words.
“Indeed,” she sighed wistfully. “Pacifists can be dreadfully dull at times.”
I swatted her on the knee. “I mean about my breaking William’s heart. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would it have made a difference?”
As usual, she was right. “Probably not,” I admitted.