Bewitching My Love (17 page)

“
No, I heard her loud and clear, Rowen. Elizabeth called Sarah his adulteress. Maybe your family was too ashamed to write down that part of your history. And really, if Mary is actually hung from the gallows, Sarah would have never had to tell. The truth would actually have never been told. Do we know if the judge is married?”

“
We’ll know by the end of the day, I’ll guarantee that.” Rowen folded the note pad and tucked it into the pocket of his coat. “Ready?”

* * * *

Elizabeth handed Jonathan his newborn son without caring if the bastard child fell from her arms in the transition. “Take thy child, Jonathan Nichols, so that I can take my leave of this place.”

Jonathan looked down at the downy blond hair and frowned. “Tis it normal for a child to have hair different from his parents, Elizabeth Wilds?”

Elizabeth cackled as she dragged her tired feet away from the bed. “Tis not normal, Jonathan Nichols. Might’s ye have words with thy wife after I take my leave? The truth lies in her heart.”

Jonathan watched her leave then turned back to look at the sleeping face of his wife. The tiny cry of the infant brought his attention back to look at the little face. The eyes were dark but they took focus nonetheless. His heart raced, this child was not of his blood, how could he have been so blind? Gently, he placed the babe next to Sarah then turned and left the room.

It seemed hours before Sarah woke. Jonathan heard the child cry and the soft soothing of his mother’s words before he became quiet again. Choosing to ignore her calling for him, he sat in front of the dark empty fireplace and contemplated how to handle his situation. He would go back to his and Mary’s cottage and ask Rowen what he knew of this child. He would know whom his wife had bedded down with and he would make him take responsibility for the child. He would have grounds for divorce. His heart leapt at the thought of a life with Mary. But all too soon his exuberation was stilled. Sarah would be put to death for adultery, but not before telling the judge of his own affair with Mary. With his head in his hands he wept, as his wife continued to call for him from the other room and the child’s shrill cry chilled him to the bone.

* * * *

It was noon by the time Fern and Rowen closed the door of the cottage behind them. They’d decided to look for Judge Hauthorn first as Rowen wanted to hear his voice again. “Fern, I think we’ll find him at the court, don’t you? We can sit in and listen to him condemn another poor woman to her death for witchcraft.”

“
I suppose so. Rowen! If we decide his voice is the one we heard at Elizabeth’s house, what will we do then? I mean, nobody will listen to us. I wonder if we really know what we’re doing?” Fern held tight to Rowen’s back as the horse stepped over a pile of rocks. She didn’t pull away once she became steady again and neither did he. She let her hand rest against his shirt where she felt the firm muscles against her fingertips.

Rowen tried to ignore Fern’s hand. She was doing that funny little tickle thing again that drove him nuts. “I think I would like to try and visit Mary again today, Fern. Maybe if she knows our plans, it’ll give her hope.”

“
I agree, Rowen. The villagers treat her so badly. Maybe we can take her some food and drink. When I was locked in there all night they didn’t bother to bring either food or water. It was horrible.”

Rowen felt her lay her head against his shoulder as she talked. They hadn’t spoken about her night in the cell; it wasn’t something he wanted to think about. It was bad enough that the old lady had managed to cold cock him in the head and kidnap her out from underneath him, literally. He still sported a bruise on his temple over that. He stiffened again when he felt her cheek rub against his shoulder blade. What he’d give to get down from the horse and lay her down in the thick Hydrilla Grass. “What do you plan to do when we get back home, Fern? I know you buy and sell antiques, do you think you’ll have an advantage now that you’ve actually seen some of the antiques you sell, when they were new?”

“
I haven’t paid much attention, Rowen. I’m more concerned with getting through all of this before we get to go home. I have been trying to work out a purchase on a small antiques shop down on the pier; being away for a week isn’t going to help. I’m not the only one interested.” She let her fingers curl around his when he placed his hand over hers, preventing her fingers from moving. “What about you? I guess you’ll just go back to your normal life as the son of a trillionaire, hmm?”

“
I didn’t know there was such a thing as a trillionaire, Fern.” Rowen chuckled at her perception of his wealth. “Don’t be fantasizing about my wealth, I’m not quite that wealthy. I have business to attend to as usual when I return. My secretary thinks I’m off playing in Barbados, she’ll wonder why I’m not tanned when I return.”

Fern reluctantly raised her cheek when the horse had to step over a pile of rocks and she was just preparing to take hold of his sides again when Rowen stopped the horse. Her eyes could barely see over his broad shoulder, but it was good enough for her to see the group of men standing in the trail, preventing them from moving. Fern gasped then ducked her head when she saw the pistols in their hands, pointed at Rowen’s chest. She had removed her Vizard from her face for the trip and she feared they would see her. Closing her eyes, she listened to them make their demands.

“
Get off of thy horse, stranger, and surrender to us the woman named Mary Wilds.”

Rowen leaned his head back and whispered down to Fern. “I’ll have to make a run for it if they insist, Fern. Make yourself ready.”

Fern held on as tight as she could. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, she waited and prayed they wouldn’t have to run. She was just getting used to the slow pace of the horse and her fear of him was finally manageable.

Rowen gripped the reins in his hand then prepared himself for the inevitable. “I do not have Mary Wilds with me, you are mistaken. Mary Wilds is in her cell at Salem Village. Go on your way and leave us to continue our journey.” Rowen sent up a silent prayer that his weak effort of their dialect was believable. He could tell by their faces that it didn’t work. He took another handful of the horse’s mane when the big one in the front came forward.

“
Mary Wilds escaped from her cell this morning. She sits behind ye on thy horse. Surrender her, or our worship Judge Hauthorn will have ye hung by her side on the gallows outside our village.”

Rowen quickly scanned the forest around them for the thickest place to make their escape. If they were lucky the bullets would miss. “Get ready, Fern,” he whispered down to her again and felt her fingers dig into his sides. The leader was just about to reach for Fern when he dug his heels into the sides of the horse. The last thing Rowen saw was the whites of the man’s eyes when the horse reared up with a loud whinny and bolted toward the trees of the thicket he’d chosen for their escape.

Fern gripped Rowen’s sides so tightly, she thought for sure she was ripping his flesh with her nails, but he didn’t flinch, not even once. With her eyes still squeezed closed, she listened to the pops of the pistols and swore under her breath when she thought one of the balls had whistled by her ear. Rowen spurred the horse until it was running at full speed through the thick trees. When he ducked a few times she heard the swooshing of tree limbs over their heads. By the time they stopped they were several miles from the angry men, or at least it seemed that way to Fern.

“
Are you alright, Fern?” Rowen asked from in front of her.

“
I… I think so,” Fern stammered through shaking lips as she let her eyes focus on the forest around them. “It felt like a few of those bullets got pretty close.” She was beginning to realize they were in the middle of an eerie, dark forest. Even darker than the one the cottage was hidden in. “Where are we, Rowen?”

“
I don’t know! All I know is that I had to get you away from those men before they pulled you from the horse. When I’m sure they didn’t follow us, I’ll turn around and try to find a way back.” He cursed when his head slumped again. The ball had barely grazed him, but it hurt like hell. He didn’t want Fern to worry so he spurred the horse on.

“
Where do you think Mary is, Rowen? They said she’d escaped.” As the reality of what the men said settled in, Fern smiled and threw her arms around Rowen’s waist, squeezing him as hard as she could. “Do you realize what this means, Rowen? We can go home. Mary has escaped, there won’t be a curse now.” Laying her head against his strong back, Fern laughed. “We can go home, thank God. We’ll wait until dark, then…”

“
Fern, can you let up a little, love?” Rowen bit his lip in pain. There shouldn’t be this much pain for a small graze.

Fern frowned and sat back before she let her hands fall away to rest on her thighs. “What’s going on, Rowen? Are you OK?” It was as she was placing her hand on his back that she saw the blood. Her hand was covered as well as his coat where she’d touched it. “Oh my God, Rowen, you’ve been hit.” Forgetting her fear of the horse, she slid off its back then turned to help Rowen put his foot in the stirrup. She noticed instantly the clammy white of his naturally dark skin. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been hurt? I’ll have to get you to a doctor right away, Rowen.”

Rowen’s feet hit the ground beside her a little too hard for his taste. It felt like the fire in his side was beginning to spread. “The damn ball must be deeper than I thought. You know as well as I do that we can’t go to the village now, Fern. You’ll have to get me back to the cottage where you can dig it out.”

Fern was sure her face must have turned two shades whiter than his. “I can’t dig the bullet out, Rowen. I’ll only hurt you even worse, if I don’t pass out first. I’ll get you back to the cottage then go for help, I promise I won’t go to the village.” She didn’t know where or how she would get help but she knew she would, she had to. “I’ll ride in front and you sit behind me and hold on, Rowen.”

“
I know you’re afraid of the horse, Fern. Do you even know how to use the reins?” Rowen would have laughed at the sardonic look on her face if he weren’t in so much pain.

“
I know enough to get you back. My fear for your safety is more than my fear of the horse at the moment, Rowen. Come on, let me help you up.” After struggling to help him back up then stuffing the skirts of her dress underneath her belt, she managed to slide her leg across the front of him to rest in the saddle. Whispering a silent prayer, she picked up the reins and kicked the horse to get him moving. When the horse lunged forward she thought her heart would pound right through her chest.

“
Gentle, Fern, he is a well trained animal, no need to kick so hard. A little pressure with your knees will get him going.”

Fern felt Rowen’s breath brush against her neck and realized he’d laid his head down on her shoulder as the full impact of his weight became her own. She couldn’t look into his eyes but she knew he was becoming weaker with each passing minute. “Hold on, Rowen, stay with me. I’m going to find some help for you. I promise.”

Fern rode blindly at first because she didn’t know where to go. Rowen was quiet except for his groans from time to time when the horse would move too harshly from one side to the other. Silently she prayed for help as she began to feel more lost with each step of the horse’s hooves.

The voice came softly at first, so faint she thought she might be hearing things. The forest was quiet except for the loud screech of a bird from time to time, and the heavy breathing from Rowen where he now slumped unconscious against her back. So when the voice became louder, she brought the horse to a sudden halt. She looked around slowly, but there was nobody there. When it started again she closed her eyes tight and listened, amazed that she felt no fear.

“
Fern, we evoke thee to come to us. Allow your steed to follow the scent of the magnolia to the place hidden in the rocks. The sisterhood awaits thee and your man. We can heal him.”

“
I’m coming, please help me to know the way.” Fern kicked the horse this time; she wanted him to run. “Run, horse, and follow the scent of the magnolia. Run, I tell you, run. If Rowen dies, I’ll kill you, I swear it.” As if the horse knew what she were saying he ran, faster and faster with each stride. With his body stretched out underneath her, Fern let go of the reins and let her body lie forward. With Rowen’s now lifeless body sagging against her, she held his arms tight around her abdomen. “I’ll hold you, just stay alive. Please Rowen, I need you, stay alive for me, for us.” Her tears mingled with the coarse hair of the horse’s mane as they flew across the countryside toward the sisters of the sisterhood.

* * * *

Rowen’s head was pounding, but the pain in his side was gone. Sitting up, he let his eyes focus on the small room where he’d been recovering for the last two days. The floor was made of dirt but the room was neat and tidy. There were medical supplies on a small table nearby and a candle was lit, illuminating the stone walls in a gothic, medieval sort of way. He was still naked except for the blanket that lay over his groin in case one of the women he’d seen in his dreams happened to make an appearance.

Fern had been mixed in with those faces from time to time. Her soothing voice was sometimes all that kept him alive. He wondered where she was now. Scanning the room, he looked for his trousers but they weren’t there. He was in the process of wrapping the blanket around his groin in a makeshift loincloth when Fern opened the door and stood staring at him. A half smile played across her lips.

Then Fern let loose with laughter until her stomached ached. “Rowen, what are you doing? Lie back down; you’re not completely well yet. Abigail said it would be another day or two before you could get up.”