XIII.
Winter was fast thawing into a mild spring on the day of their handfasting.
Ben had mustered the courage to petition Miss Greene in the matter of a new gown, hat, and gloves for Lissie. He did not specify the young lady it was for, but made it clear that his heart was set on the intended recipient so that there could be no shadow of a doubt that he was not attached to her. Miss Greene's eagerness to be of assistance only confirmed his suspicions of her increasing fondness for his former master.
When presented with the many parcels, Lissie tried to protest, but to no avail.
"They are for our wedding day, Lissie. Since I am unable to have us married properly, at least let me do this."
"We'll be married properly the moment you tell me so, for that is all I require."
"And all I require is that you learn to bear the offerings of my affection, for as your husband I intend to give you many pretty things."
The parcels were crushed between the embrace she gave him in answer. "I will go and dress, then. I do want to be pretty for my husband."
"You are always pretty," he reminded her, but gave an encouraging kiss as she drew away.
When she emerged a full hour later in her purple damask, complete with petticoats and stomacher, it was not Ben she found waiting for her, but Mr. Merriman.
"Miss Felicity," he addressed her with caution, as he'd been warned not to make mention of her maiden name. She betrayed a moment of fear as her eyes darted to and fro in search of Ben, but she composed herself and ventured a slight smile.
"I know you will have your husband's arm most always, but for the times you do not..." he presented her with a lady's walking stick. "A wedding gift."
Lissie accepted it, as the tears prickled her again. "It's very pretty. Thank you, Mr. Merriman, you are so kind." Her shoulders rose and fell in sadness. "I know I must have caused you great trouble on Ben's account."
"No such matter." He handed her a handkerchief to dab her eyes.
"I feel quite the lady," she smiled at the offer.
"You are a lady," Ben's voice beckoned from the doorway. "The most beautiful in all of Williamsburg."
Lissie's blush became her well. As did the make of her gown, and the dainty gloves that were soon tucked under Ben's arm.
They hastened to the blacksmith, not for fear of discovery, but for the happy reason that they were more than ready to join hands and announce before God their bond to each other. The smith was brief in his officiating. He made it clear that he was a busy man, and not to be easily distracted by "those who wished to soothe their conscience in the act of fornication."
Ben was quick to correct him with an explanation of their delicate situation, and being that the smith was not a heartless fellow, he accepted their intentions—and Ben's payment for his time—with only a slight humph.
If the blacksmith had any doubts as to the honesty of their tale, the earnest expressions they shared as they clasped hands over the anvil dispelled them at once. His sentiments, however, did not overcome his need to return to his tasks, and they were espoused in a most respectful, but informal manner.
The manner of their joining by no means diminished Lissie's joy. Though Ben knew they would not be accepted by the townsfolk as married until the expectancy of their first child, he was no less confident that they were married than his dear Lissie, whose walk with him back to Merriman's showed a briskness in her step that coupled with the old limp seemed almost like skipping. He tightened his hold on her glove, disappointed that he could not immediately enjoy the contact afforded when her flesh was uncovered. He made no attempt to remove the article as the way Lissie admired the pretty things she wore had not escaped his notice. He would let her enjoy their walk through town unhindered by his selfishness. After all, the rest of their lives were before them to have her bare hand in his again.
And a certain blaggard would never lift another finger against his dear wife.
Jiggy Nye was miles away in a nearby town, purchasing a horse. He was not due back until late into the night, or the next day if he decided to stay at the inn, so it was with no trepidation that Ben let Lissie take her new walking stick and pay one last visit to the house of her girlhood. He would have accompanied her, but she assured him she wished to go alone. He was not aware, but she'd been working on a present for him and wished to retrieve it and have it wrapped with the help of Mr. Merriman before Ben could see.
The walking stick proved more than acceptable, and she neared the broken house sooner than she expected. Dusk was still some hours away, but the sky was a melancholy grey, almost as if the tannery repelled all sunlight and warmth.
Lissie would not be deterred. There was nothing to fear any longer, and her many layers kept her immune to the slight chill that teased her skirts.
The door moaned as it always did upon opening, and though the day had turned dim, Lissie still had to let her eyes adjust to the greater darkness within. With a heavy clatter, her elegant walking stick fell to the ground.
Her blood turned cold and for a moment all her breath seemed to be sucked away by an invisible phantom. Jiggy Nye sat at the decaying table, a bottle of spirits before him, and a look about him like he'd been severely disappointed by his afternoon ventures.
"Where've ye been, girl?" Jiggy Nye wiped the drink off his lips with the back of his dirty hand. "You look too fine to be comin' from anywhere decent. Been hidin' money from me? Where'd ye get such things?"
Lissie's hands trembled as she removed her gloves and set them on the shelf by the window. She knew that look. She had seen it a hundred times, always before the worst of her hurts were inflicted.
"Shut the door, chit!" he slapped his hands on the table and stood from his seat. "Yer letting in the draft! Now tell me where ye've been, or I'll wring it out of ye!"
Lissie swallowed and eyed the stove, which her present for Ben was hiding under. She hurried to the corner and fell to her knees, not heeding the grime that her skirts collected in the action. With the unwrapped gift tight in her grasp, she rose, only to find Jiggy Nye looming treacherously over her.
"What's that in yer hand? Why won't ye answer me, girl? Have ye gone deaf?" He raised a hand to strike her, and she put up her own defensively. The defiant, "No!" she gave took Jiggy Nye aback.
"No!" she repeated. "You won't hit me now. I don't belong to you, anymore. I've married Benjamin Davidson, and I belong to him!"
Time almost stopped as Jiggy Nye's face ever so slowly changed from mystification to utter rage and disgust. His blows threw Lissie to the floor, knocking Ben's gift out of her hands. She retrieved it with a wail, and tried to inch her way to the door. She made it a few crawling paces before he kicked her in the gut, making her crumple in anticipation of the oncoming fury.
"So ye have more fancy things that ye've been buyin' instead of meat for yer own kin! Does the lad give ye money? Is that where ye go instead of tending to yer work? Whorin' for yer pretty things!"
Lissie sat up a little, clutching Ben's gift even tighter, if it was possible. She was crying, but not from the beating. Her anger made her bold. "Do not speak of my presents from Ben as if he were a greedy monster like you! He's given me everything I have because he loves me, and wants to care for me, and not for any other reason! I'm sure God will punish you, Mr. Nye, for I don't think there's ever been a worse father than you've been to me."
Jiggy Nye screeched at the word 'father' and pulled Lissie up by her hair. When she tried to shrink away, he only tugged the harder, increasing her frightened sobs. "Didn't I teach ye not to talk back in that fashion? How dare ye speak to me of God, ye fiery-haired devil! I'll beat some manners into ye, yet!" He struck her face several times to emphasise his point. "God has abandoned us, girl! He left this place long ago, when He took yer mother, and left me such a useless scrap of a daughter!"
Lissie reached up pleadingly with the hand that was not holding Ben's gift and gasped, "Papa, please!"
Jiggy Nye's fist closed around her hair so tightly, he hissed as his blunted nails dug into his own palm. "What did I tell ye about calling me by that name, bitch?!"
Lissie opened her mouth to beg for mercy, but he wrenched her about to face him, and with one gruesome swing, smashed her head against the stove.
She felt the force of a fierce pain tear into her head as it rang with the contact, the anxious voice of someone—it couldn't be Jiggy Nye—calling her by her name. She tried to answer, tried to ask the strange voice if Ben's gift was safe, but all was lost as darkness fell over her like a shroud.
Author's Notes:
I am so sorry I almost forgot to post today! (It's still today for me, at least... for the next five minutes.) I'm also sorry that Jiggy Nye is such a horrible person, and if you remember back when I said I changed the rating to M, it was for this piece which I was writing at the time. To anyone who cried over this chapter, you are not alone. I sobbed while writing it. For your glimmer of hope, know that I do not write unhappy endings. If you review in a fashion that allows me to respond to you, please remind me to give you a teaser snippet for the next chapter!