The walk towards the courthouse drew far more attention that Ebenezer would have preferred. It was not just that his father, lame and stooped with age as he was, did not move with any speed. Nor was it the just sight of Ebenezer himself, a man gone so long from the colony that he may as well have been a stranger, was already walking with a young lady. No. It was that the young lady was Mirabella. She had kept herself to long from the sight of others that people stared wide at the very vision of her walking about in daylight, a habit far from her supposed nature. And as those staring eyes focused upon the hand that held hers, tongues began to wag and rumors arose. Enoch Mayhew's bride to be?? Walking out with the preacher's son?? What scandal was this that was blossoming in their midst, that one man would take another's wife intended for himself?? Thankfully the combination of Ebenezer's self confidence and the iron-hard scowl upon his father's face kept the gawkers at bay.

At least until they entered the courthouse. There, clerks were thrown into a tizzy as they tried to figure out what to do. Was this legal? Could Ebenezer marry her when she had been promised to another man? They stalled and stalled and stalled while someone sent for the magistrate, Matthias Willford and then for Judge Mayhew and his son Enoch. All the same protests were brought up that Ebenezer's father had already raised. Each of them Ebenezer shot down with poise and grace, quoting Scripture and law in equal measure unit even his father was greatly impressed, all the while leaving out the implications of Mirabella's bruisings and beatings. He would not have her begin their life together in pity. Soon other aldermen were called in as they awaited Magistrate Willford, and these aged men, too, found themselves under the guns of Ebenezer's assurance and learning. Even so, the bulwarks of custom and tradition... what is expected... were difficult to breach by reason, logic and law.

All the while, Ebenezer held Mirabella's hand. He would not willingly give her up. Not just for her sake, but for his as well.

Finally the magistrate arrived with both Judge Mayhew and his son in tow. The clerks all excused themselves as the fat burgher bellowed out, "What is all of this then! I am told, Reverend Stone, that your son and Enoch's betrothed wish to be wed!"

Ebenezer answered instead. "You are correct, sir! And we have had quite the time in having so simple a matter delivered to us! With respect, I beg you show me the law that says we can not!"

"She is mine!" roared the massive Enoch, who would have been called handsome if not for his sheer bulk in muscle. It was a face that, like the rest of his body, was far too defined to even be called craggy. A thick finger jabbed out violently at Mirabella. "Her father and mine had a legal agreement, that we were arranged to be wed when she was of eighteen years!"

"And I do not give my consent," asserted the Judge. "As my ward, she is under my house and my rule. I forbid this marriage to take place!"

Ebenezer, by now, had had more than enough. His voice cracked like thunder throughout the courthouse, clerks in other halls and rooms hearing him as clearly as a ship's captain bellowing his orders to a crew. "Forbid all you like, sirrah! It is true you are her legal guardian. But! She may still wed without your consent, at the worst of a stiff penalty which we shall pay, money that goes to you all the same as you are the judge! AND, if I may remind you of your jurisprudence, she retains the right to counter sue you should you deny her her choice! We will be married all the same. As for you, Enoch Mayhew!" he growled. "I care not what 'legal' arrangements have been made. She does not love you. If there is no kindling of love at all, then by our own customs and decrees such a marriage would nullified. I have pledged my hear to Mirabella, which I daresay is more than you have!"

Then, in far gentle tones, he turned to Mirabella and smiled. He knew their marriage was going to be something of a pretense for them both, but surely it was pretense she could accept in place of a husband who would no doubt be the death of her? "Tell them, Mirabella," he coaxed softly, "Tell them you do not love Enoch, and that you would consent to marry me instead."