He was aghast. He wanted this marriage, he had wanted it ever since Matthew Slythe had proposed the settlement, because marrying Dorcas Slythe would make Samuel Scammell into a very rich man. Then, last night, he had seen her and he had wanted the marriage even more. Matthew Slythe had not described his daughter and Scammell had been astonished by her beauty.

Last night he had not believed his good fortune. She was a girl of astounding beauty and of calm presence who stirred the fleshly lust in him. Now that same grave, dutiful girl had turned on him, scorned him, and he stood up, frowning.

“A child must be obedient to its parents, as a wife is obedient to her husband.” He had adopted his preacher’s voice, stern and full. He was nervous, but Matthew Slythe had impressed on him the need for firmness. “We live in God’s love, not an earthly love of flesh and pleasure.” He was in his stride now, as if talking to the congregation of Saints. “Earthly love is corruptible, as flesh is corruptible, but we are called to a heavenly love, God’s love, and a sacrament holy to Him and his Son.” She shook her head, helpless against the Puritan harangue, and he stepped toward her, his voice louder. “‘Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth!’”

She looked at him, bitterness in her soul, and she gave him a text in return. “‘My father hath chastised you with whips, but I will chastise you with scorpions.’”

Scammell glared at her. “Am I to tell your father that you reject his wishes?”

She was beaten and she knew it. If she rejected this man then her father would lock her in her room, feed her on bread and water and then, as the sun faded in the west, he would come to her, the thick leather belt in his hand. He would flail it at her, bellowing that this was God’s will and that she had sinned. She could not bear the thought of the bruises and the blood, the whimpering beneath the whistling lash of the belt. “No.”

Scammell rocked back and forth. He dropped his voice to a whining, unctuous level. “It is understandable that you are upset, my dear. Women are prone to be upset, indeed and indeed. The weaker sex, yes?” He laughed, to show that he was sympathetic. “You will find, my dear, that God has made a woman’s way easy through obedience. Let the woman be subject to her husband. In obedience you will be saved the unhappiness of choice. You must see me now as your shepherd, and we will live in the house of the Lord forever.” He leaned forward, magnanimous in victory, to kiss her on the cheek.

She stepped back from him. “We are not yet married, sir.”

“Indeed and indeed.” He saved his balance by stepping forward. “Modesty, like obedience, is pleasing in a woman.” He felt bitter. He wanted this girl. He wanted to paw at her, to kiss her, yet he felt a fear of her. No matter. In a month they would be married and she would be his property. He clasped his hands together, cracked his knuckles, and walked on to the road. “Shall we continue, my dear? We have a letter for Brother Hervey.”