At dinner my mother made good on her promise to supervise my meal, but there was no argument as a result. I ate everything I was given and wished there were more, and then was actually sent to my room to change without my father promising a visit before that. Since I had deliberately left the same sewing in my sack and hadn’t touched it at all I didn’t understand that, but then it came to me that Pember might have spoken to my father. None of them wanted me to escape the fate they had decreed by letting me be beaten to death, and as I closed the same dress I’d worn for three nights in a row, I couldn’t decide how to feel about that. The thought of death was more enticing than terrifying, but the thought of having the strength to survive in my stand was enormously more satisfying. If I had the strength I would survive, and fewer beatings meant greater strength.
And then Pember came, and took me out to the porch in the dark and began kissing me again. I hated the feel of his lips on mine, but presently there were other things to hate even more. For the first time he put his hands on my body, groping my breasts and trying to slide one under my skirts, and an insanity of sorts took hold of me. I screamed in outrage the way he had done as a child, and then I beat at him with both fists and all the strength that seemed to flow out of the night air and into my body. I beat at him over and over until I was free and he was shouting and holding his face and then my father was there and then—
And then the nightmare really began. If Pember had kept my father from beating me earlier, he didn’t do it again. The pain was so great it even took my senses, and when I awoke I was in the place under the stairs, a place that was more cramped than it had been when I’d been younger. I greeted it silently as an old friend, a snug refuge in which to hide, and after a moment was able to smile. I still wore that vile dress, the one Pember had insisted on so, but would likely never be able to wear it again. I could feel the blood flowing from my back, and because of that and despite the pain, could also feel grim pleasure.
Whether I slept or my senses fled I have no idea, but quite a lot of time passed without my being aware of it. I knew the night was behind me when sounds of movement came into my refuge, but no one came to release me or lecture me or even to give me more pain. By then I thought I already had possession of all the pain there was, but the agonizingly slow passage of the day taught me I was wrong. I had the room to do no more than shift in place a very small amount, and could hardly have managed stronger movement even if there had been the room. The very act of breathing drew screams of agony from body to mind, and I thought I might well be fortunate enough to have them leave me there until I died.
I should have known better. Toward the end of the day I was helped from the place by my mother and one of my sisters, was cleaned and salved despite my absolute lack of cooperation, and then was put into an old dress of my mother’s. Dinner was a grim affair, most especially when I refused to join in the prayer by closing my eyes and remaining silent, but my father said nothing about it. He and my mother both tried demanding that I eat the food put in front of me, but in that, too, they were unsuccessful. I had reached the point where I cared less about what was done to me than I had at any time in my terribly rebellious life, and I came to believe they finally understood that.
After dinner we had callers, more than the one I had been expecting. Pember came, but so did Mr. Skeel, and they both seemed to be filled with more satisfaction than the bruise on Pember’s face should have called for. Our distinguished visitors took the settle and my father and I made do with chairs, and once we were all seated Mr. Skeel gave me one of his usual cold, small smiles.
“You must be quite excited, young lady,” he said, sounding and acting as though I were eagerly there rather than not being allowed to leave. “I will admit the arrangements made between your father and my son are somewhat unusual, but they certainly are not against any of God’s laws. Rather than first calling on you for the customary sevenday before asking for your hand, Pember has already asked and been granted approval. Your nuptials will be celebrated tomorrow night at this time, and I, of course, will preside.”
“If it’s your intention to make your son—and yourself—look foolish in the extreme, schedule any celebration you care to,” I answered, at long last speaking to the man as I’d always wanted to. “I refuse to marry Pember, and will continue to refuse from now through forever.”
“Ah, good, then you also agree,” Mr. Skeel said with a wider smile, just as though I hadn’t said what I had. “The ceremony will be private, of course, just your family and ours, and afterward the marriage will be confirmed to the rest of the community by me, just as the betrothal was announced. We all look forward to welcoming you to our bosom, daughter-to-be.”
I looked around more carefully then, saw not only his smile but Pember’s and my father’s, and finally understood. No matter what I said, Mr. Skeel was going to hear only what he wanted to hear, only what he and Pember and my father wanted to hear. With a private ceremony everyone in the community would believe I was married, especially when Mr. Skeel told them I was. Pember would then be able to do anything he liked to me, and no one would even think about objecting.
“I’ll still tell them you’re lying,” I tried, feeling more trapped than I had in the dark place under the stairs. “I’ll scream it out even if they try not to listen, over and over for as long as I live. And I won’t ever let Pember touch me, not ever!”
I discovered I was on my feet by then, my voice more shrill than I’d wanted it, but all the outburst did was widen the smile on Pember’s face as he rose to stand in front of me.
“No dutiful wife would try to refuse her husband,” he said in a drawl, looking down at me with viciousness in his dark eyes. “And no husband needs to accept such an attempt even if it happens to be made. Our wedding night will be quite active, Banni dear, that I promise you.”
His arms came around me then as he pulled me to him, and I found I no longer had the strength to push him away again. I panted as I struggled, appalled over how easily he held me, how easily he kept me from freeing myself, my father’s chuckling the most evil backdrop it was possible for me to imagine. At first Mr. Skeel chuckled as well, and then suddenly, unexpectedly, the leader of our community was on his feet with a frown.
“What is that noise?” he demanded, already beginning to stride to the front door. “Revels, from people who should certainly know better, most especially at this time of night? Have they lost their minds?”
His righteous indignation carried him forward quickly, and by then we also could hear the whooping shouts and raucous laughter he already had. It was impossible to imagine what it could be, what situation could produce the sort of sounds that had never before been heard from anyone in our community. I tried again, vainly, to free myself from Pember as Mr. Skeel reached for the door, and then everything happened so quickly I was barely able to follow it.
The door burst open right in Mr. Skeel’s face, knocking him aside and down with the violence of the action, and then strange-looking men were streaming into the house. Dressed in trousers and shirts and carrying swords and knives and bows, they were smaller and slimmer than the men of our community, but seemed to possess a good deal more energy. It had just come to me that they were very much like Jak when Jak himself appeared, holding a sword and grinning broadly. My father had begun scrambling for a weapon at the first appearance of the men, but Pember stood as though struck in stone, and then he really was struck. Jak backhanded him away from me with the fist still holding a sword, and then turned his grin on me.