The Captive Bride

The Captive Bride by Gilbert Morris

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Authors: Gilbert Morris
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Religious
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doom.” He bit his lip and shook his head. “I want to be there when Elizabeth has her baby. The first baby is always harder on the mother, I think.” He gave a shake of his heavy shoulders, rose and smiled. “I’ll let you two have a little privacy, such as there is.”
    â€œHave some of this cheese, Matthew,” Lydia urged as Bunyan moved across the room to speak to Jamison. “You’re so thin!”
    He took a piece of the cheese, bit into it and chewed slowly. “I can’t stand this place much longer, Lydia.” He spoke quietly, but there was a thick despair in his tone and she was appalled at the hollow look in his face, the fear that leaped out of his eyes.
    â€œIt’s a time of testing,” she whispered softly. Putting her arm around him, she moved as close to him as the narrow bench would permit. She yearned to draw his head to her breast and comfort him as she did the smallest Bunyan child, but it would have been improper in view of the prisoners. “We’re going to get through this, you and I. Remember the scripture, ‘Whom the Lord loveth, he chasteneth’? This will make our marriage stronger than ever!”
    He stared at her as if she were speaking a language foreign to him; then a shiver ran through his thin frame. “I couldstand anything, Lydia, I think—except these walls.” He gave a look that was almost wild at the massive stones that hemmed them in, and again a violent tremor shook his shoulders and she tightened her hold. “It’s not the cold or the stench of this place, though God knows it’s miserable enough! It’s not even being cut off from you. Oh, God, I could be happy in poverty—even in sickness, I think—if only I didn’t have to be caged up like a dog!”
    His voice rose higher so that several of the prisoners looked their way, and Lydia gave him a sudden hard grasp and said fiercely, “I know! I know, dearest! But it’s only for a little while!” She hesitated, then drew his head down so that her lips were close to his ear and whispered something so softly that he missed it.
    â€œWhat’s that? I can’t hear you.”
    She pulled his head yet closer, and her breath was warm and soft as she murmured with gladness in her voice, “You must be brave, Husband, because you’re going to have a family!”
    He sat there stock-still, as though he had not heard her, then slowly he turned and looked down into her eyes, which were brimming with tears—tears of joy.
    â€œA—baby?”
    â€œYes!”
    He moved his lips but no sound came; only his eyes reflected his deep shock. Finally he smiled wanly, put his arm around her and kissed her, ignoring the guffaws from several of the prisoners. “A son!” he said, and there was more life in his voice than she had heard in weeks.
    â€œOr a daughter.”
    â€œOf course—it could be a girl!” He sat there, and despite the abysmal surroundings—the stench and the frigid blasts of air that cut to the bone, the stares of the ragged prisoners and the gray, blank walls—Lydia’s heart sang, for it was the time she’d prayed for. Never during their short marriage had she felt in perfect harmony with Matthew—not until now. They had laughed much and their minds were equal, and nocouple, she was sure, could have been more fulfilled by the vibrant love they had shared.
    But she had always known there was a part of him she had not been able to enter—just as there was a part of her she longed to have him know, but he could not find it. Deep down she was aware that it was their walk with God—that private place, like a deeply hidden grotto where the spirit leaves the noisy world and meets with the living Lord—it was that element which she had not been able to share with Matthew. And deep within there was the lurking fear that the two of them, for all their bonds of body

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