A/N: First, let me thank all of you who reviewed this story. I was not, in any way, expecting such a response, and I cannot thank you all enough!

Now, I really meant to update this sooner. However, I was away for a week, and then, there was the research. Yes, research. I have spent many hours at my computer looking up every little detail, trying to recreate the time period as accurately as possible. I finally gave up, and went to the public library (note to all you kids: when research papers come along, save yourselves the trouble and use the library books. Trust me). So, I hope that I can live up to your standards, and that this chapter (and the remainder of the story) fits your expectations.

Oh, and be aware of strange dialect. I did say that this was to be as authentic as possible, after all. I have included a little glossery of sorts at the end, so if you should come upon a strange word, scroll down and you might find it.

Emily

Disclaimer: I own none of what you see. Really.


It had been decided before this somber ceremony that the new couple take up residence in the town of Dorchester, about forty miles from their current residence in Salisbury. Thus, after the ceremony, the newly wedded couple could be found at the railroad, waiting upon the train that would carry them away from the shame and lost hope that surrounded them in Salisbury, carrying them to a place where life could not possibly be of much improvement. Casey's mother, Nora, stood beside her daughter, allowing herself to give the young woman some final words of comfort before sending her off to what was bound to be a future of despair. By the mothers side stood the three younger children, looking up with solemn eyes at their older siblings, even the youngest one instinctively knowing that this was not the time to speak.

Those meddlesome onlookers who had observed the wedding now stood observing the scene at the railroad. Casey could hear the voice of a young woman from the village voicing her own thoughts, and sending what she thought to be the best advice for one of Casey's situation.

"Now 'ee mind yourself. Tidden the end of your life, wedding that un. He med not the nicest chappie, but he is a handsome un," the girl said in her thick country dialect. Casey nodded, relieved to see the train approaching, thus saving her from the conversations and advice others would be sure to give.

Derek and his father stood further back, eyes trained on one another. It was in neither of their natures to share the long goodbyes so common to the softer sex. Rather, George merely motioned towards the pretty, dark-haired girl. "Mind her, and mind yourself. You mustn't allow yourself to squander your earnings at the pothouse." His son acknowledged the words, yet like his young wife, was saved from answering by the approaching train.

As the two found seats, they looked back out through the grimy windows, each, perhaps, saying their own goodbyes to the lives they had known for so long; and each reluctant to leave for a future brought about by their own thoughtless follies.

As the train now sped down the tracks, Casey looked past her husband, her mind mourning the loss of all she could have been. She was to have started at the Salisbury Training College, come that fall, a goal so cruelly out of reach to a person of her new situation. It was a shame that she had been born of the weaker sex, it had often been observed, for were she a male, her opportunities could have far exceeded those of many others around her.

Her new husband, Derek, did not possess that drive which is so often necessary to shape our futures. His life had been squandered away, his love of liquor and women governing his life. His actions thus far had been inconsistent with those of his fathers; his father was known to be a most generous man, working as the schoolmaster for the village school. The son had never shown such inclinations towards a career of such decency; rather, it was whispered that he would live his days rooming near the tavern, living amongst the poor and destitute, those who could scarcely be considered members of society.

This all was common knowledge, and people who watched them leave could not help but wonder if the young man could provide for his family, or if they would join those who lived like rats, destroyed by poverty.


They had, the week prior to this blessed even, purchased a small cottage on the outskirts of Dorchester. It had been insisted that it was imperative that they live in a home, for it was not right for a woman of Casey's condition to live elsewhere. Nightfall thus found the pair in their new abode.

"We are married now," said Derek, looking over his young wife.

"Yes," she replied quietly. She turned to enter the second room, which she intended on making her own bedchamber. However, he stopped her, and she turned to look at him.

"As my wife, you now have certain duties that you must attend to." His voice was low, the tone making the girl tremble slightly. His dark eyes swept over her, and she stepped away from the man who towered before her, instinctively knowing that no good could arise from this situation.

"This will be a marriage on paper only, I assure you," she stated, understanding his intentions quite clearly. He took a step towards her, and she backed away. With a swift motion, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him.

"As your husband, it is my right to say what sort of marriage we should have. If I wish for you to reside in my bed, it will be so." His breath was warm on her skin as he kept her pulled close to him. She struggled against his hard grasp, attempting to dislodge her wrist from his grip.

"You touch me, and I shall scream 'force' to all who will listen. I shall tell them that you took me, took me as though I were some helpless creature." Her threats were empty, for it was a time in which claims of such weight were so often ignored, a fact both knew all to well.

"You lie, and you know it. You did not beg me to leave as I entered your bed, Casey. You did not tell me to stop. You were there, and you were the one who instigated it, were you not? After all, is it not the way of a woman to flaunt her charms, to ensnare the love of a helpless man? Perhaps it was I who was the victim of your charms. It is, afterall, the way of a woman to do whatever it may take to keep a man, and to force him into matrimony."

"How dare you suggest that I could be capable of such trickery! I certainly do not wish for this to be my life, nor have I ever wished for such a thing. You haven't the right to accuse me, for I was…"

"You were what? You were pure? You were pure and youthful, and I pulled you down. Is that what you wish to believe? Does it make you feel any better, fooling yourself into this belief that you were never to blame? You are a woman, and it is just like one of your kind to conceive some foolish notion of lost innocence. You know, just as I do, that I never forced you."

She stood tall, lifting her chin in an act of defiance. "I do not fear you," she said, meeting his eyes. "You will not hurt me. It is not in your nature. I am not one of your whores, and I shall not cower at your words." He stared at her, his hand still grasping her wrist, his face distorted.

"Perhaps you should." With these words, he released her wrist, pushing her roughly away from him. Despite her confident stance, Casey felt herself shrink away from him. In all the time that she had known him, she had never known him to possess such strong emotions. When he had learned of her condition, when he had learned that they were to marry, at neither time had she truly believed him capable of violence. However, as she looked at the dark countenance of the man that stood before her, she knew that his words rang true. At this moment, were she to further anger him, he would not hesitate to hurt her.

It may be said that he too knew this, for his expression seemed to change as he kept staring at her. "You may leave. I shall not share my bed with someone so unwilling." She did not hesitate to obey him, and she left. As she reached her own room, she closed the wooden door behind her, and sunk to the floor, trying to quell the fear that her husband had instilled in her.


A/N: I hope that this was up to your standards. I hope that the next chapter will be up much sooner. If you have any questions, or wish to question a historical detail, please, feel free to contact me. Please, comments are much loved :)

Emily

Glossary:

The following is taken from the 1998 Penguin Classic edition of Thomas Hardy's Jude the Obscure (great book-if you like this, read it).

'ee- (dialect) you.

Tidden- (dialect) it isn't

Un- (dialect) him

Med-(dialect) might

Mind- (dialect) take care

Chappie- (colloquial) fellow

Pothouse-ale-house (or, a modern day bar)

Hope that this is of some help!