‘Peter?’ ‘Withers. Peter Withers, our blacksmith.’ ‘Oh.’ Her father looked away, striding over to the window. ‘That was necessary.’ �...Necessary? Necessary to whom?’ Cassia moved next to her father, taking a deep breath to hold her anger in check. ‘Father, I’m eighteen years old. I have a right to make decision concerning my life.’ ‘And giving the most precious gift you have to a blacksmith is making a decision?’ Arthur looked over at her. ‘What about marriage?’ ‘I told Mother long ago that I. I had to do it then before I could think and reason it out. My bravery would die soon. Ean’s bedroom door was shut. I knocked, waited, and then slowly pried it open. Ean was face down on his bed.“Ean,” I called in a soft voice. He was motionless. I slowly walked in. I stepped lightly to his bed and kicked off my shoes. I climbed on and as carefully as I could, I touched his shoulder.Ean turned his head to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin moist with tears.“Are you ok,” I asked. More

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