The Betrayal Read Free Page B

push, his hands on her shoulders. “Go.”
    She forced a smile, then turned and ran off, pulling on the cap and covering her hair.
    We’re going to be married, she thought, her heart pounding.
    Edward and I are going to be married.
    I am going to be the wife of Edward Fier.
    She felt as if she were floating through the trees.
    Susannah ran right past the woodpile and through the commons, and was nearly home before she remembered she had come out for firewood, and had to go back.
    â€œThe carrots are small but sweet,” William Goode said. He sat stiffly at the head of the table, rubbing gravy off the wooden plate with a biscuit.
    Susannah watched her father eat his dinner. Helooked tired to her, tired and old. He was not yet forty, yet his face was lined, and his once-blond hair had turned prematurely white.
    â€œSusannah baked the biscuits,” Martha Goode said.
    â€œWould you like more gravy, Father?” Susannah asked, gesturing to the gravy pot still simmering on the hearth. “There are more boiled carrots, too.”
    â€œI am going to mash some carrots and give them to George when he wakes up,” Susannah’s mother said.
    â€œI do not know why our carrots are so small,” Mr. Goode grumbled. “Matthew Pier’s carrots are as long as candles.”
    â€œWhy do you not ask him his secret?” Susannah’s mother suggested.
    William Goode scowled. He narrowed his gray-green eyes at his wife. “Matthew Fier has no farming skills that I do not have. He has no secrets that I—”
    â€œThe Fiers have plenty of secrets,” his wife interrupted. “Who
are
they, these Fier brothers? Where do they come from? They did not come to the New World from England, as we did.”
    â€œI do not know,” Mr. Goode replied thoughtfully. “They come from a small farm village. That is all I know. They were poor when they arrived, both Fier brothers and their wives. But they have prospered here. And that proves they are pious folk, favored by the Maker.”
    His wife sighed. “These carrots are sweet enough, William. I did not intend to hurt your feelings.”
    William Goode frowned. “Sweet enough,” he muttered.

    â€œHelp me clear the dinner table, Susannah,” Martha Goode ordered. “Why are you sitting there with that dazed, faraway expression on your face?”
    â€œSorry, Mother.” Susannah started to get up, but her father placed a hand on her arm to restrain her.
    â€œSusannah will clear the table in a little while,” he told his wife. “I wish to speak with her first.” He stood up, pulled a clay pipe down from his pipe rack, filled it with tobacco from his cloth pouch, and went over to the fire to light it.
    Susannah turned in her chair, her eyes trained on her father, trying to read his expression. “What did you wish to speak to me about, Father?”
    â€œAbout Edward Fier,” he replied, frowning as he puffed hard to start the tobacco burning.
    Susannah gasped. She had never discussed Edward with either of her parents. She and Edward were merely acquaintances, as far as her parents knew.
    Holding the long white pipe by the bowl, Mr. Goode made his way back to the dinner table. He pulled back the stool next to Susannah’s and sat down stiffly.
    â€œWh-what about him?” Susannah stammered, clasping her hands tightly in her lap.
    Her father leaned close to her. Pipe smoke rose up in front of him, encircling them both in a fragrant cloud. “You and Edward Fier have been seen walking together,” he accused. “Walking together without a chaperon present.”
    Susannah’s mouth dropped open. She took a deep breath, then started to speak, but no sound came out.
    â€œDo you deny it, Daughter?” Her father’s whiteeyebrows arched over his gray-green eyes, which burned accusations into hers. “Do you deny it?”
    â€œNo, Father,” Susannah replied