The Preacher's Bride Read Online Free Page A

dipped her head. “Yes, father.”
    Their father had assigned her the task of caring for the younger children, including Jane’s. Their oldest sister had always carried a heavy work load in the bakery, since their father had not taken on another apprentice after Henry.
    “I understand that Vicar Burton has asked for Elizabeth to do the housekeeping,” said Samuel. “However, I don’t think he’s aware of the situation.”
    Elizabeth sighed and peered out the door, seeing the first light of dawn. She smoothed her coif and tucked in stray wisps of hair, ready to be on her way to the Costins’.
    “I’m a master cooper now. I have the cottage next to Uncle’s. I am ready to be married. I’ve waited long enough for this time to come.”
    “Samuel, my boy,” replied her father without looking up from the pastries he was shaping, “I understand ye have waited these many years to complete the terms of your apprenticeship and to afford a proper home of your own. But if it is Elizabeth ye want, then surely ye would be willing to extend your courtship.”
    Samuel pulled up his breeches, which had the habit of slipping below his protruding belly. He hitched them high above his waistline, as if to give them plenty of sliding room.
    The first chore she would undertake after they were married would be sewing points into his breeches so he could lace them to his doublet and keep them from perpetually falling down.
    “How much longer, Brother Whitbread?” Samuel asked.
    “We have barely begun our courtship, Samuel,” Elizabeth cut in. “We must finish our courtship, trothplight, post the banns. These things all take time.”
    “How much time?”
    “Jane and Henry courted for two years.”
    Beneath his scruffy beard and scraggly hair, Samuel’s face blanched.
    She ought to mention that Jane and Henry hadn’t had a choice. Henry’s apprenticeship had delayed them. But ’twould not help her cause to bring that to light. “Don’t you agree we should help the Costins during this terrible time of need? Surely you cannot prohibit my offering them charity.”
    “I don’t prohibit charity—”
    “Would you have me leave the poor motherless children to fend for themselves?”
    “No, of course not—”
    “Then you cannot object to postponing our plans in order to extend a gracious hand of service to the Costins during this hardship.”
    “I guess I can’t object.”
    “Everyone will understand why we must postpone, and they’ll be grateful. They’ll laud you for your sacrifice.”
    Her father cleared his throat and leveled a frown at her, a warning that she’d gone far enough in her efforts to convince Samuel.
    “If ye are agreed, Samuel, my boy,” her father said, “then my Elizabeth will marry ye at summer’s end.”
    “That’s more than three months.” Samuel plucked at his beard.
    “Elizabeth must be ready by then.”
    Her father’s statement was directed at her.
    “I will be ready.” Would she, though?
    “You will promise this?” Samuel asked.
    Could she promise?
    For the space of a few seconds she didn’t know if she could make such a promise. Then she shook off the notion. Samuel was a good man, even if he wasn’t handsome. He was like the big barrels he crafted—round and hefty. But she was nothing special to look at either, with her stocky bones and wide girth, her hair the color of bread crust, and her eyes plain and gray. Compared to Jane or Catherine, or any of her other sisters, she had missed inheriting their mother’s beauty. No wonder a man like Samuel Muddle had chosen her—she was one of the few he bargained he could win.
    “Will you promise?” he asked again.
    The scraping of the peel against stone echoed in the room as Henry finished taking the last brown loaves out of the oven.
    “Very well. I promise.”
    “Let there be an agreement betwixt us. At summer’s end, you’ll finish your housekeeping, and we’ll make haste to take our vows before the