June sat uneasily in the pew beside Ted as Rev. Goodall finished his sermon, peeking at her neighbors. She wasn’t used to attending church anytime other than Christmas and Easter, and while she enjoyed the peaceful, contemplative silence of the building, she was certain everyone there was staring at her, or at least thinking about her and Ted.

Still, she rather liked the old hymn they sang at the end of the service. It had been years since she’d had time or breath to sing anything. The swell of music reminded her of her mother, who had hummed church songs while doing her work all through June’s childhood. June was surprised she remembered all the words, and surprised that Ted had such a strong voice. It was a clear, rich tenor, and she found herself thinking that he could have easily stood at the front of the church to sing a solo.

“And now, a few orders of business before we go out to do good works,” Rev. Goodall said at last, as the congregation took their seats once more. He cleared his throat and announced, “I publish the banns of marriage between Theodore Folley of the Parish of Brynthwaite and June Lakes, also of this parish. If any of you know cause or just impediment why these persons should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, ye are to declare it. This is for the second time of asking.”

A rush of self-consciousness struck June, and she darted a covert glance from side to side, certain someone would object. Or at least snicker at her. She just knew that everyone in town had been whispering about her all week, laughing at how she’d ended up with Ted after all.

But no one said a word, and as the service ended and the congregation left their pews to head out of the hot church and into the cool breeze blowing off the lake, a few people actually came up to her and Ted to offer their congratulations.

“What a handsome couple you make,” Rev. Albright, one of the administrators of Brynthwaite Municipal Orphanage greeted them with a bright smile.

“Thank you, reverend,” Ted answered, puffing his chest proudly. He patted June’s hand as it rested in the crook of his elbow. “We’re very happy.”

June shot him a wary, sidelong glance. Were they?

“I’m glad to hear it,” Rev. Albright went on. “You both deserve to be happy.”

The comment stuck in June’s chest like a burr she couldn’t shake from her skirt. No one deserved to be happy, did they? Happiness was entirely a matter of chance, and she had never been particularly lucky that way.

“We’re looking forward to attending your formal wedding ceremony,” Mrs. Garrett, the wife of the farmer who lived down the lane from the Lakes house, told her with a smile as June and Ted left the churchyard. “I plan to wear my special occasion bonnet and everything.”

“I’m not sure there’s going to be a public ceremony,” June mumbled, unable to look at Ted as she said it.

“If enough people express interest in attending, we could have one,” Ted said, a far-off smile softening his expression.

June kept her mouth shut. She couldn’t imagine such a ceremony. But at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to disabuse Ted of his notion that everything was sunshine and happiness between them. She’d been watching like a hawk, waiting for the moment he finally turned on her. He was only being nice now to lull her into going through with an official ceremony. Then she’d be sorry.

And yet….

She let out a sigh as they walked slowly back to the pub.

“Something wrong, my dear?” Ted asked, still smiling like a loon.

June chewed her lip. She glanced around at the buildings they walked past. She took a breath, then another. But she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how to convert her thoughts and feelings into words. There didn’t seem to be a way to call Ted out for lying about his intentions…because with each new day that passed, she was beginning to wonder if perhaps he didn’t have any ulterior motives. Perhaps Ted was every bit as good and honest as he seemed. Perhaps he did intend to take care of her and make her happy.

“I’m just not used to things,” she said at last, half mumbling, her face filling with heat.

“Oh.” Ted tilted his head to the side. “I suppose a change like this does take a while to get used to.”

She glanced sideways at him, looking for the barb behind his words. But there was none. Ted was just Ted. Big, dopey, innocent, caring Ted.

They continued on to the pub in silence. June tried to think about the work she had to do. She’d spent the last few days working out recipes for meat pies and stews that would be appealing to the pub’s patrons without draining Ted’s profits. The summer festival was coming up in just less than a week as well, and every year she entered a savory pie in the food competition.

But even after they returned to the pub and she set to work inventorying the ingredients she had and what she would need for the coming week, her mind wouldn’t settle. It was like she was searching for something, searching for confirmation that her worst fears were right after all.

“I got you something,” Ted announced as he walked into the kitchen in the middle of June’s contemplation.

She stood at the counter with the slate she’d been using to make a shopping list, but at Ted’s entrance, she turned toward him. Her heart instantly darkened and she burst into a scowl. “What are those?” she demanded in a sharp snap.

Ted held a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a thick fold of flowered fabric in the other. “They’re a gift,” he smiled, bringing the flowers and fabric to her.

A painful sort of rage turned her stomach to acid. “A gift. I see.” Of all things, she wanted to weep. As desperately as she’d been looking for confirmation that Ted was the same as her father and brothers, she hadn’t expected to actually get it. It broke her heart. “What do you want?” she demanded, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“I….” Ted blinked at her, then at the gifts in his hands. “They’re just gifts. Since we’ve been together for a week.”

“There is no such thing as just a gift,” she told him with an impatient huff, snatching the flowers out of his hands and throwing them into the sink. “There are only bribes. What do you want?”

“I just thought you could make a nice, new dress with this,” Ted said, staring sadly at the fabric as he set it on the counter. “I thought this shade of blue would bring out your eyes.”

The fear June felt at discovering Ted was the same as any other man was nothing to the guilt that welled up in her. She felt horrible, like she’d done something terribly, terribly wrong. But past experience had taught her to be wary, so, so wary.

“Do you want me in bed? Is that what this is all about?” she asked. “Or do you want me to spend more time in the kitchen so you can make more money selling my food? Do you want me to pick up after you so you have more time to make your beer or go fishing or…or…or….” She couldn’t imagine what sort of idleness Ted would want to get up to while she slaved away. She couldn’t imagine Ted being idle at all. She let out an impatient sigh. “It’s bed, isn’t it. That’s what you want. You said you wouldn’t touch me until after our marriage was official. I should have known—”

“It’s not that,” Ted interrupted her. The sadness in his expression had deepened to hurt, and with it anger. “I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it. Even if no one else in your life ever has. Why can’t you just trust me?”

Before she could answer, Ted turned and stomped away from her, out of the kitchen and into the public part of the pub.

Tears stung at June’s eyes before she could stop them. She’d never seen Ted angry, and it was all her fault. She didn’t trust him, not at all, even though the tiny voice in her head told her she should. It was a situation she’d never found herself in before.

She reached for the fabric he’d brought her, smoothing her hand across it. It was good quality, unlike the cheap stuff her father always bought for her. The flowers were lovely too. She hurried to take them out of the sink and to put them in a jug of water. For a moment, she stood back, staring at her gifts, her heart sinking. She had to apologize. That was all there was to it.

She took a deep breath, swallowing hard as she worked up the courage to do what needed to be done. Her mind fought with her. There was something so humiliating about apologizing to a man. He would use it against her, lord it over her at every chance he got. But her soul wouldn’t be able to rest easy until she admitted to Ted that she might have been wrong. She steeled her nerves and marched through the kitchen into the front of the pub.

“But you have to let us see her. We can’t manage without her.”

She stopped dead at the sight of her father and brothers, hats in hand, pleading with Ted at the front of the pub.

“I’m no good at cooking, but they’re making me do it,” Billy whined.

“And we need her to make her pie for the summer festival so we can win the prize,” Chaz added. “We need that money.”

“No,” Ted told them, arms crossed. “I told you no on Friday, I’m telling you no today, and if you come back again, it will still be no. I won’t let you pester June simply because you can’t cope on your own.”

“But we need that pie money,” Chaz insisted.

“Then make and enter your own pie in the competition and stop darkening my doorstep.”

A strange, aching sensation formed in June’s heart. Had Ted turned her family away before? She had no idea how to feel about that.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, striding into the center of the argument.

Her father and brothers erupted into pleas and supplication, speaking on top of each other.

“Come home, Junie.”

“We need you at home.”

“The place is a mess. The laundry needs doing.”

“I don’t know where the soap is.”

“We need your winning pie money.”

“You have to come home.”

“Stop!” Ted held up his hands. “June isn’t going anywhere.”

“Who are you to tell me where I will and won’t go?” June snapped. On the one hand, it felt like the natural response to someone telling her what she should do. On the other, it felt so wrong that her skin itched.

Ted looked at her with sad surprise. Her father and brothers weren’t so silent.

“There’s a good girl,” her father said. “Remembering her family at last.”

“Yeah, you’re our sister,” Chaz insisted. “Your duty is to us first.”

“My clothes all stink,” Billy whined.

“You owe us pies,” Wat growled. “I hear you’re making pies for everyone else now but us.”

“Enough with the pies,” June sighed, rubbing her forehead. “There’s no guarantee that I’ll win the prize this year anyhow.”

Her brothers exchanged looks as though June had taken leave of her senses.

“Come home at once,” her father said, rounding out the pleas and complaints. “This charade has gone on long enough. And your pie always wins the money.”

Something in June wavered. She felt nothing but loathing for her family, but that in itself felt wrong. And life with them was familiar. It was what she was used to. It held none of the confusion or topsy-turvy emotions that staying with Ted carried with it.

She peeked up at Ted. He was staring at her, and the moment their eyes met, he shrugged, letting out a breath. “They’re your family. If you want to go with them, I won’t stop you.” But his eyes begged her to stay.

She didn’t know what to do. Her whole life, she’d always known what to do. Keep her head down, work, never complain. But now she had choices. She didn’t know which one to make.

“You do stink,” she said, focusing on Billy. He was the least annoying of her family members, though that wasn’t saying much. “I suppose I could do your laundry for you. Once,” she added, holding up a finger. “You’ll help me, and you’ll learn how to do it.”

“All right, June,” Billy said, looking so relieved he might cry.

June was inches away from crying herself. She hated not knowing…well, anything. At least she knew how to do laundry.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” she told Ted, barely glancing at him before marching out the front door. Her brothers followed her. It felt like being escorted back to her prison cell.

Ted watched June go, hoping and praying that doing a bit of laundry for her family would make her happy. He hoped and prayed she’d come back when she was done. His every instinct was to rush after her and demand she stay in the pub where he could keep her safe. But so far, his every instinct had been wrong. June had been with him for a week, and he had no more of an idea what to do for her than he’d had as a schoolboy.

“She’s a firecracker, our June.”

Ted hadn’t realized Roger had stayed behind until he spoke. “She’s a strong woman,” he said.

Roger laughed. “Not really. She puts on a show, but she’s as meek as a kitten once you know how to manage her.”

Anger pulsed through Ted. “What are you talking about?”

Roger shrugged. “She’s like any other woman. They like to think they’re in charge of things, but they need to be managed, like sheep.”

“June is not a sheep,” Ted growled. “She’s a woman. An intelligent, strong-willed, beautiful woman.”

“She’s not as beautiful as she used to be,” Roger said with a dismissive sniff. “Happens to all women. Work scuffs them up.”

“She shouldn’t have to work so hard,” Ted insisted. No wonder June was so prickly with a father like Roger.

No sooner had the thought struck him than a visceral flash of understanding followed, as if he’d turned the page of a book and saw an illustration that explained everything. And yet, he couldn’t put what his heart felt into words. Pity? Indignation? Or perhaps just a bone-deep need to shelter her and prove to her that life didn’t have to be like that.

Roger continued to chuckle as though Ted were a fool. “Women were born for work,” he said. “They were born to please men, bear children, and keep their mouths shut.”

Ted gaped in horror. Before he could find the words to tell him off, Roger went on.

“The trick to June is to learn how to manage her.” He crossed his arms and tilted his chin up, like a professor delivering a lecture. “You have to keep her busy. Don’t give her time to think or come up with any ideas of her own. It’s harder with June than with most, because she has such a strong will. You’ve got to break her.”

“I will not break anybody, much less my wife,” Ted said, horrified.

Roger ignored him. “There’s not just one way to break a woman either. Sure, a few blows now and then will teach her manners.”

“You’ve beat June?” Ted clenched his fists at his sides.

“All men beat their women,” Roger snorted. “But you’ve got an even better tool to keep her humble. Just ride her rough in bed whenever she acts up and she’ll be eating out of your hand like a kitten in no time.”

“I will not…how dare you even suggest….” Ted was so angry he couldn’t form words.

“Ah, but that’s not enough,” Roger went on with a wink. “You’ve got to surprise them with kindness now and then. When you really want something, something she doesn’t want to do—like bake another prize-winning pie so’s we can have our beer money for the season, which we are sorely lacking—that’s when you bring her something pretty, like flowers.”

Ted’s jaw went slack, and his mouth hung open.

“Better still,” Roger went on, “when I really want something, I get her a spool of ribbon or a bit of lace, or even a bolt of fabric. That way she can’t say no. Women are push-overs when it comes to a little something pretty. You could get her to do just about anything, if you know what I mean, and all it takes is a few, cheap sewing notions.” He winked and tapped a finger on the side of his nose.

Everything made sense. It burned in his gut like acid, but it made sense.

“Get out,” Ted growled.

“What? Steady on there,” Roger said, taking a step back.

“Get out of my pub, and don’t ever darken my door again.” He took a few threatening steps toward Roger, backing him up even farther.

“Hang on, what’s all this about? I’m just giving you a little advice, man to man.” Roger tripped as he was pushed through the door and into the street.

“I don’t want to see you or your sons at my pub ever again. And if June isn’t home in two hours, like she said, I’m sending the constable to get her.”

“You can’t do that,” Roger protested.

“I can and I will,” Ted said. He stepped back into the pub and slammed the door behind him.

The gesture did nothing to diffuse the fury coursing through him. But as soon as he walked to the closest table and sank into a chair, a different sort of emotion overtook him.

It all made sense. Every bit of the suspicion and skittishness that June had exhibited since he’d brought her home. Every sideways look she’d given him and every time she’d snapped at something. Of course she didn’t trust him. Roger and his sons were all she’d known of men for the last ten years and more. He knew his intentions were honorable, but how would June know that?

His throat constricted and hot, angry blood pumped through him as the thought sunk deeper and deeper within him. Roger and his sons had interfered with June’s mind somehow. They’d manipulated her into the corner she inhabited now. But Roger was wrong. June was strong. A weak woman would have crumpled, become a submissive wisp and nothing more. June was a fighter. The only problem was that she was fighting him too.

He rubbed a hand over his face, but it did nothing to ease the tumult of emotion running riot in him. It only made it worse. He should have done something much sooner. He should have tried to get her away from her family years ago, before they’d even left school. Was there a time when June had asked for help from those around her only to have them ignore her, assuming the men in her life had a right to do with her what they pleased? Probably. He should have seen it sooner and done something.

He pushed himself to his feet, too agitated to sit still. Even though it was Sunday and the pub was closed, he had to find something to do. At the same time, the weight of the suspicion that there was nothing he could do hung on him. He couldn’t keep smiling and reaching out to June the way he had been doing. She would think he was up to something, like her father and brothers always were. He had to find another way to get through to her and to let her know she was safe with him. But he didn’t have the first clue what that could be.