Goddess Born (5 page)

Ben cleared his throat, and I pulled my mouth shut with a snap. “Mr. Henry Alan to see you, miss,” he said.

“Yes, Mr. Alan, please come in and have a seat. Would you care for some tea?”

“Thank you, Miss Kilbrid.” He sounded surprised by the offer, but crossed the room all the same and took a seat near the hearth where the tea service had been set out on a low table.

“Ben, you may wait outside,” I said. Although propriety insisted he not leave me alone with the man, I wished no further witnesses for what I was about to do.

Ben raised his eyebrows to show he disapproved of my request. I raised mine in return, silently pleading with him to grant me some privacy. “Very well,” he said. “I will be right outside the door.”

Once Ben left the room, I readjusted my face into a smile before taking a seat opposite Henry. Cold sweat coated my hands and nerves squirmed inside me like newly hatched eels. In need of a minute to gather my wits, I focused on pouring his tea while I debated where to start. Henry looked at me most curiously when I handed him the porcelain cup, and I wondered if he, too, was counting how many rules I had already broken.

“Would you mind telling me some of your history?” I finally asked.

Henry took a sip of tea. Placing the cup on the table, he folded his hands neatly in his lap. “I was born in England,” he said. “My father was an officer in His Majesty’s Navy. He retired from service in 1718 after being wounded in the Battle of Cape Passaro against the Spanish. Until two months ago, I was a student at Cambridge.”

“Why on earth would you leave school to become indentured?” I spoke bluntly, startled to learn that a person of such advantage would actually choose to come to the Colonies in this manner. Usually indentures were among the most unfortunate...or criminals.
Oh
,
heavens above!
“Are you a criminal?” I asked, my voice breaking unnaturally.

Henry looked straight at me. He had the most extraordinary green eyes, flecked with gold. “I am no criminal,” he said coolly. “Someone made a claim against my father, and I was indentured to cover the debt.”

“I should not have assumed,” I said by way of an apology. We lapsed into an awkward silence while I grappled for more words. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“My mother and infant sister both died in childbirth when I was two years old. My father never remarried, and I remained an only child.”

“Are you married or otherwise engaged?” I couldn’t believe I had only now thought of this potential problem. The wrong response and all my scheming would have been for naught.

“No, I’m not,” he said. My relief must have been obvious for he gave me a rather queer look.

“What are your plans once your contract is fulfilled?” I asked, as much from curiosity as necessity. “Do you intend to make a home for yourself in Pennsylvania?”

“I will return to England and reclaim my former life.”

So far, his answers proved satisfactory, and though by no means a complete biography, I had enough information to proceed further. Taking another sip of tea, I placed my cup on the table next to his. “Mr. Alan, as of this morning I find myself in a most unusual predicament. You may recall when you first saw me sitting at the docks?”

He nodded to indicate that he did.

“Well, I had just received some unfortunate news from Captain Harlow. My second cousin, Mr. Samuel Kilbrid, was also a passenger on
The Berkshire.
He died while at sea. We were supposed to be married, you see, and as things stand it is now quite impossible.”

When I stopped to get my bearings, Henry remained silent, patiently waiting for me to continue. “My father also recently passed away, and with my mother dead these past four years, I find myself in a position of great risk. If I had returned to Brighmor a married woman as planned, I would have been sufficiently protected from a particular enemy. By returning home unwed, I could lose everything I hold dear.”

I took one last deep breath and then pushed forward to the end.

“Mr. Alan, when I purchased your contract today, it was with the greatest hopes that you would consent to pose as my cousin and, under his name, take me as your wife on the morrow. I know this is quite forward, but please understand the desperate nature of my situation. If you consent, I would agree to significantly reduce your length of service, and once I am safe from my enemy, you can leave Brighmor. Samuel is already dead, so to say he died in a year or two would not be too far from the truth. The marriage would be annulled at that point, and you would be a free man in every way. If by then you decide to stay in the Colonies, my only request will be that you live a minimum of three hundred miles from Hopewell.”

Henry no longer looked at me, having turned to stare at the empty hearth. It was so quiet, the sound of our combined breathing and the ticking of the mantel clock filled the room. I began to think that my brazen behavior had rendered him mute when he finally spoke.

“You want me to marry you?” he asked, facing me again. “Are you serious?”

“Be assured, I am in earnest.” A deep blush crept into my cheeks from what I had to say next. “It would be a marriage in name only. There will be no conjugal rights. No familiarity beyond what is absolutely necessary to make the right appearance.”

“I see,” he said, looking slightly amused at my discomfort. “And how can such a marriage save you from this enemy?”

I had to pick my words with care so not to scare him away. “There is a man who is determined to have me for his wife. He has threatened to bring false charges against me if I continue to refuse him. He is very persuasive and could possibly turn the townspeople against me, and then I would be forced to marry him to clear my name. I wish to move his attentions elsewhere by returning home a married woman.” Of course there remained a chance Nathan would see a husband as just another obstacle to be gotten around in his deranged quest to fulfill God’s will. Or that he may still follow through with his threat and have me charged for a witch regardless of my marital status. I considered mentioning this to Henry, but decided not to clutter the issue with unnecessary details.

Henry leaned back in the chair, a frown creasing his brows. “You are asking me to commit fraud by assuming another man’s name and enter into a contract under false pretenses. Have you considered the consequences if we are discovered? It would mean certain imprisonment and fines. Possibly even flogging if the Crown is so inclined.”

Up until now I had been so focused on convincing Henry to marry me, the notion of getting caught hadn’t even entered my mind. My smile wavered for a split second. “Surely not so much as that,” I laughed, trying to mask my anxiety by making light of his. “They do not flog people quite so readily in Pennsylvania as they do in England. Maybe a week in the stocks at most.”

He narrowed his eyes. Despite my jest, I would have personally chosen death rather than be put on public display for a week in the town’s square.

“I assure you, no one will find out. Captain Harlow will be gone in two weeks, and Ben would sooner die than betray me.”

“You have forgotten our friend Mr. Fletcher.”

“He is not important,” I said with false surety. Remembering the redheaded demon, I almost crossed myself on the spot for added protection, but decided to wait till later when Henry was gone. This was a delicate game. Any sign of weakness would diminish the ground I had so painstakingly gained. “We are leaving in the morning, and Hopewell is fifty miles from Philadelphia. Mr. Fletcher will soon find someone else to work the ovens.”

Henry didn’t look very convinced. “What if I refuse?” he asked.

My pulse leapt with panic, but having already answered this question enough times in my own head, the words sprang naturally to my lips. “I would have Ben sell your contract to Mr. Fletcher this very night. In seven years you’ll be a free man, presuming you live that long. I’ve heard some of the lads in the brickyard are prone to accidents. But since you’re sure to be the master’s particular favorite, I guess there’s nothing to worry about.” I could hardly believe the callousness of my own words.

Apparently neither could Henry. He closed his eyes and drew in several long deep breaths while considering the alternative. “Marriage would be the lesser of two evils,” he said at last.

I crinkled my forehead, displeased by his choice of words. “Don’t think of it so much as an evil, Mr. Alan, but rather as each of us having the means to help the other. I saved you from Mr. Fletcher, and now you can save me from Nathan Crowley.” My logic was decent if not entirely flawless.

He regarded me closely with those piercing green eyes. A sudden shadow flickered in their depths, vanishing so quickly I would have dismissed it altogether if not for a lingering sensation of unease. The moment passed and a faint, sardonic smile touched his lips. “So, one good turn deserves another.”

I forced a tight smile in return. “My thoughts exactly, Mr. Alan. You might even thank me in a year or two once this is all behind us.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” he said wryly, “I would be a fool to refuse.”

On a whim, I extended my hand just as I’d seen Captain Harlow do countless times at the docks earlier. “Do we have an agreement?”

Henry nodded, and our hands met, mine disappearing into his as we shook to seal the deal.

Chapter Three

The Redheaded Demon

No sooner had Ben returned Henry to their room than he came storming back into mine. Having neither the energy nor the inclination to move yet, I remained sitting by the hearth.

He wasted no time getting right to the point. “Are you ready to tell me what’s going on?”

I closed my eyes and sank back into the chair, willing myself to disappear into its dark softness. My head hurt and I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep until morning when it would be necessary to begin again. “I am so tired,” I said. “Can we talk later?” Under normal circumstances Ben tended to act like a doting older brother, readily giving in to my requests, but not today.

“Your father said nothing about buying another servant. What are you up to, Selah?”

The use of my first name was a bad sign. Opening my eyes, I looked at him warily. “Trying to spare myself a miserable life. And keeping Brighmor safe from ruin.”

Ben took a seat next to me. “All right,” he said with forced patience. “Exactly how does Henry Alan fit into all of this?”

My father had told Ben only the necessary details before we left, giving him a basic knowledge of my problems. As my new plan depended on Ben’s cooperation, he was entitled to full disclosure. “Henry has agreed to assume my cousin’s name for a period of time and marry me tomorrow morning. We will be returning to Brighmor as Mr. and Mrs. Kilbrid.”

Ben looked dumbstruck. Although my behavior had been unusual, this obviously hadn’t crossed his mind. “The Devil you are!” he said, his voice hot enough to boil water.

I glared at him, in no mood to be contradicted. “I’ve already decided, and you’ll not try to stop me.”

“This is madness. You don’t even know the man. How could you think about...about making him your husband?” Ben didn’t have to say anything else for me to understand his real concern.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “It is going to be a marriage in name only. Once Mr. Crowley is out of the way, I’ll release Henry from the contract. He intends to return home, but if this changes, he has agreed to live at least three hundred miles from Hopewell. When the time comes, we need only to circulate a story about his visiting family, and a month or two later he can die of the palsy all over again.” I pursed my mouth. “I do have some concern for his accent, so we’ll just have to tell folks that he was educated in England.” At least there I could stay with the truth.

Ben stared silently into the empty hearth, his brows creased much like Henry’s had been earlier. “You’ve given this a lot of thought,” he said after a minute.

“Yes, I have,” I admitted, feeling rather clever for my efforts. “And if we keep our wits about us, no one need be the wiser.”

“Hmm.” Ben shifted his gaze back to me. “You know of course, that once you’re married it will be almost impossible to enforce his contract for indenture. I’m sure it won’t be a problem, though I can’t help wondering what would happen if Henry changed his mind. After a year or two as master it may be difficult for him to simply walk away and start over. As Samuel Kilbrid he can claim Brighmor as his own, and the only way you can stop him is by admitting you broke the law and lied about his identity.”

My confident smile fell away as my stomach churned over the few mouthfuls of tea I had recently swallowed.

“And I’ve no doubt if he has a mind to claim Brighmor, he’ll also be claiming you for his wife in more than just name. How long do you think a young man will wait before taking what is legally his?” If not for the worry lines on his forehead, Ben would have sounded like he was speculating on wheat prices instead of my imminent downfall. “Or, I guess he could get rid of you altogether and have Brighmor to himself.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

“Well, if he doesn’t want Brighmor, what’s to stop him from stealing your mother’s jewelry and leaving for England on the next ship? You tell folks he’s anyone other than Mr. Kilbrid, and you’ll both end up in the stocks.”

Blasted!
There it was again, that word.
Stocks
. I had used it in jest with Henry. Now I would surely have nightmares about the horrible contraption for a week.

“But since you’ve thought this through and are so well acquainted with Mr. Alan’s character, we’ve nothing to worry us.” Ben was the one smiling, or rather smirking, now, and I glowered at him in return.

“What else would you have me do? Marry a man I hate? At least this way there’s a chance for me to be happy. Henry has agreed to the terms, and being indentured doesn’t automatically make him a rogue. You should know that better than anyone.” So, maybe I hadn’t thought of everything. This didn’t mean I was ready to tuck tail and run. Despite his concerns, I remained determined to get my way. Fortunately, Ben possessed a certain weakness. Willing tears into my eyes, I allowed one to roll unhindered down my cheek. “Please don’t make me marry Nathan.”

Ben shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “There’s got to be another way,” he said. “Your father would never approve.”

My father had made his choice, and now I had to make mine. And that didn’t involve submitting to the likes of Mr. Crowley. “This is the only option I have left.”

“Your father trusted you to my care until you were married. How can I let you do something so foolish?”

Another tear rolled down my cheek. “Please, Ben, you have to help me.”

His eyes softened, and I knew he would no longer deny me. “Your plan may get us both into trouble, for I swear I’ll kill any man who tries to hurt you.” Ben sighed and pushed up to his feet. “I’m going along with this against my better judgment, Selah Kilbrid.”

“Oh, Ben!” I leapt from my chair and threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you.” Even if every other man in the world proved a scoundrel, Ben would keep me safe.

“You can be saving your thanks for when this is through,” he said, pulling free from my arms. “Now, what would you have me do?”

So much needed doing, I almost didn’t know where to begin. Glancing at the clock, I saw we both had to work fast if there was any chance of leaving as planned. “First you need to find a magistrate who will come to Meredith House tomorrow morning to officiate the wedding. Offer enough incentive for him to come early and to keep things quiet.”

“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.

Directly across the road from the Meredith House, a carter was busy selling cider and hot buns, attracting the attention of numerous passersby. I carefully studied each person who stopped, hoping that one would be the magistrate, making a quick stop before crossing the street to the inn. As another patron swapped coin for bread and drink, my eye was distracted by something right below the window. Glancing down, I saw the leering face of Fletcher’s redheaded henchman. The demon smiled at me, tipping his hat before I could gather my wits and move out of sight.

Pressed hard against the wall and half buried in the thick damask draperies, my mind raced for answers. In a city of almost ten thousand people, chance alone had not brought him to my window. Which left two very unsettling questions: how did he know where to find me and to what purpose?

A minute later there were footsteps outside my door, proceeded by a series of light taps. I froze like a frightened rabbit at the prospect of receiving Dirk Fletcher’s regards. Surely, the demon wouldn’t have the nerve to enter the inn as bold as brass, and come up to my room? One scream would bring at least a dozen people running to my rescue. There were a few more knocks, louder this time, followed by Ben’s muffled voice.

“Are you ready, Miss Kilbrid?” he asked.

Ready indeed! Delighted by Ben’s voice, I bolted to the door and threw it open. “Yes, please come in,” I said, a little too cheery considering the hour and circumstances.

Ben gave me a curious look as he stepped into the room, closely followed by an older gentleman in black wool breeches and coat. Henry came in last, and my heart skipped ahead before it could be properly subdued.

“Miss Kilbrid,” Ben said, drawing my attention from Henry. “May I introduce the magistrate, Mr. Martin Jones.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Jones,” I said with a small curtsy.

“And, you, Miss Kilbrid,” the magistrate replied. “I have already been acquainted with your cousin. Do you wish to proceed directly with the wedding?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” I said, stealing another glance at Henry, but his face was closely banked, leaving me to guess at his thoughts.

I led the way over to the table where the magistrate began pulling items out of a large leather bag. With quills, ink and parchment in place, he took a seat and motioned for Henry and me to stand in front of him. “Ben has explained your desire to be married quickly and discreetly.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, smiling sweetly to mask my rampant guilt.

Mr. Jones didn’t seem too interested in the details of our plight. In bold, neat strokes he started to fill in the marriage certificate.
June 1st
,
1730
, he wrote, and right below this,
Philadelphia County of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.

“Kilbrid,” I heard him mumble when he reached the place for our names. “I used to know a prominent merchant by that name. He left Philadelphia twenty years ago to start a farm near Hopewell. Is he a relation of yours, Miss Kilbrid?”

“Yes, sir. He was my father, but recently passed away.”

“Were there any other heirs?” he asked, not bothering with condolences.

“No, sir.” There was no use getting into the details of my older brother.

“I see,” the magistrate said, and then looked directly at Henry. “From what I hear, Mr. Jonathan Kilbrid was one of the wealthiest men in the colony. You stand to inherit a large fortune from this marriage.”