Amy. Beautiful, elusive Amy. She’d promised to marry him. For five long years he’d sat at her father’s bench, with the promise of Amy and her riches in time. The time had come. She was in London. If she wouldn’t come with him willingly, he would have to force her. There were places he’d heard about, “privileged” churches where a man could marry a woman without posting banns, without taking out a license. Without her consent.
