Bewitching My Love (25 page)

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Authors: Diane Story

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Bewitching My Love
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The wind pulled his hair loose from where it was tied at the back of his neck and he threw his head back in laughter. Rowen loved his convertible, it made him feel so free just to get out on his own and drive it. He was just passing the last bend in his driveway when his eyes were drawn to the family graveyard a hundred feet off to the left.

Slamming his foot on the brake, his car screeched to a halt. There was a child there, a young girl of maybe fifteen or even sixteen standing next to one of the headstones, the oldest one there. What was she doing? Reaching for the handle he swung his long legs from the car and headed toward her. She didn’t look his way, but he could tell she knew he was there. “Hey girl? What are you doing there? You’ll have to leave right away, this is private property.” When she turned, his heart stopped beating for a second in his chest. “Fern?” He quizzed her but she didn’t reply, she only smiled and beckoned him closer with her small hands. Of course she wasn’t Fern, she was too young. She was dressed peculiarly as well; maybe she was a ghost of Fern’s past ancestors. He shook his head when he realized how absurd his thoughts were. “Did you hear me? This is private property.”


Aye, I heard ye sir,” she replied to his insistence.

Rowen stopped just outside the gates and looked at her. “Who are you, child? What do you want here?”


It is I, Rose! Dost thou not remember me?”

Rowen’s body shook from his head to his toes, memories were flooding him in leaps and bounds and he felt as if he couldn’t breathe. “Rose, you said Rose? What are you doing here, child? Elizabeth will find you, you must leave.” Quickly he looked around for the old woman.


Look around us, at thy clothing and thy home, Rowen. Ye are no longer in my time.” She pitied him; her grandmother had indeed been wicked.

Rowen slowly looked around and realized she was right. “But, how? Where is Fern?”


She has been in the dungeon ever since your return. Grandmother took her memories as well, and she does not remember ye, or this time. Tomorrow is the day she will be executed; ye have but a few hours to save her. Us, Rowen Nichols.”

Rowen watched as she sat down in the grass next to one of the stones. The name inscribed was
Jonathan Nichols
.
Date of death, June 17
th
1692
. “How is that possible, Jonathan dies? How?”


Trying to save his love of course, unless…” Rose smiled.


Unless what?” Rowen would have shaken her if she didn’t offer more.


His true love saves him, of course.” Rose smiled and began to fade; it was time to leave him. Her mission was complete.

Rowen reached for her, but she was gone. Without stopping to dwell on it any longer he ran back to his convertible and turned back toward the house, where the wardrobe stood waiting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 


Are you sure my name is Mary? Don’t you think I should know this?” Fern cried again as she stood in front of the judge. He was giving her one last time to confess her guilt before her execution. Her mother Elizabeth would be spared taxes if she denied the charges, besides, she wasn’t a witch, she would never confess to something she was not.


You cannot deny thy given name and expect me to believe it, Mary Wilds. Now stop this ridiculous act of innocence and confess. Thy death will come swiftly if ye do.”


Sir, I cannot confess. I am not a witch, and I know nothing of how to be a witch.” Fern brushed a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. There were several spectators in the room, and she felt embarrassed. There was one in particular that caught her attention. A beautiful young woman sitting in the back, she looked like an angel. Maybe she had already died, and this woman was here to save her.


Mary Wilds, if ye do not remember who ye are, how can ye remember that ye are not a witch? Ye lie to me, and thy village Salem, Mary Wilds, for that reason my decision remains. Tomorrow at sunup ye will hang from thy neck on gallows hill. May our father in heaven have mercy on thy soul.” Judge Hauthorn slammed his mallet down hard, but the girl still did not look at him. He would be glad to be rid of her; maybe now his Sarah would find peace.

Fern held the eyes of the woman who sat in the back even as she was drug from the room. The pointing fingers and scorns of the men and women in attendance went unnoticed. ‘Who are you,’ she begged in her mind. ‘I know you, I am certain of it.’

Abigail watched until Fern was gone and the room was cleared. Elizabeth had defied the sisterhood with this act. When she discovered the ancient book was gone, she knew for what purpose it was meant. She didn’t speak to the girl with her mind this time, but wondered if she should have. If the sisters couldn’t save her before she met the gallows at sunup, then there was no reason to remind her of who she was. Preparing to leave, she jumped when Elizabeth spoke. She’d managed to sit next to her without her noticing. It was Elizabeth’s way, to sneak up. Even as a child, it was her way.


Dear sister, why hast thou come to witness my child’s demise? Do the sisters not keep you busy these days?” Elizabeth chuckled.


Why hast my sister become so bitter? Is not thy child I see ready to face her demise, why do you persist with this vengeance, Elizabeth? You should look to your sisters for love and understanding…”


Enough!” Elizabeth wailed. “Love and understanding, ha! Ye of all witches should know the consequences of love and understanding, Abigail. This woman must replace my Mary on the gallows, it cannot be stopped, just as the sun must rise, it to cannot be stopped.” Elizabeth scooted close, and spoke in a whisper. “You see this too, do ye not?”


Aye, sister. I do, and thy sisters do. We will not interfere unless your plan fails, Elizabeth.” Abigail placed her hand over Elizabeth’s on the top of her old cane. “We are all sisters, remember that.”


Aye, I always will.” Elizabeth left Abigail then, she had much to do before sunup.

* * * *

Rowen stood before the guard trying to maintain his composure. He had to remain calm and not give the guard any reason not to believe him. He wore his black coat, a reproduction displaying wealth for the time. “I am Sister Wilds Attorney, her mother sent for me from Boston just this morning. Please let me pass.”


I will need to ask our worship, Judge Hauthorn. His orders are that no one is allowed inside without his permission first.”


Aye, but I already have his permission. We spoke but only a few moments ago.” Rowen watched as confusion crossed his face. “Our worship is relaxing with a cup of his favorite hot cider, I should not like to disturb him. But if you feel you must…”


No,” the guard replied hurriedly. “No need to disturb him. You may pass, but be quick about it.”

The stairs leading down to the dungeon were dark; Rowen grabbed a torch before descending. He passed by each cell slowly, trying to ignore the pleas for help as he went. Fern was in the last one. His mind was telling him it was only yesterday that they were together, but in fact it had been a week. She was lying with her back to him on a pallet of straw on the dirt floor. Rage filled him; grasping the bars, he yanked them repeatedly. They were solid, and didn’t budge an inch. Without thinking, he swore loudly. “Son of a bitch.”

Fern sat up quickly, staring at the man who was trying to get inside her cell, fear building when he swore. “Who are thou? Leave me, or I will call for the guard.”

Rowen stopped yanking when he heard her voice. “Fern, it’s me Rowen. Come over here, love, so I can see you.”


My name is Mary, sir, you have the wrong cell. Leave me be.” Fern rolled back to her spot on her pallet.

Rowen drew a deep breath then went on. “Fern, look at me love.” Even from where he was he could see she’d lost weight. When he found Elizabeth, he’d kill her. “Your name is not Mary. Mary is your ancestor. Just look at me and I’ll help you remember who you are.”

Fern rolled over and looked at him, he was shadowed behind the torch. But something was familiar about him. Standing, she walked slowly toward him. “I do not know you, this I am sure. But lower your torch so that I can see your face.”

Rowen did as she asked. His heart sang when he saw her tears. “It is me love. You know now, don’t you?”

Fern fell to her knees in front of the bars, Rowen followed. “Oh Rowen, where have you been? How long have I been here?” She cried.

Rowen reached through the bars and took her hands. “Elizabeth has kept us apart for over a week.” His eyes searched hers, taking in the dark circles underneath them. “I’m so sorry love, I would never have let this happen. Elizabeth gave us something to make us forget each other. Rose came to me and woke me up, I prayed that I wouldn’t be too late.”


Do you have a key, Rowen, can you get me out of here?” Fern begged.


No, I can’t, Fern.” He squeezed her hand when she started to cry. “I will find Jonathan and ask for his help. He has the key, and I know he will help. I must have you out of here before sunup love, just hold on for a few more hours.”


What happens at sunup, Rowen” Fern looked into his eyes and remembered the trial. “I hang at sunup, don’t I? You won’t let that happen, I know you won’t. Please, hurry back so we can go home, Rowen, I’m tired of this place.”


Not any more than I am, love.” Picking up her hand, he kissed her palm gently. “I love you Fern, I’ll be back, soon.”


I love you, Rowen, I’ll be waiting.” Fern walked back to her pallet and sat down against the dirt wall where she watched as the light from his torch dimmed. She was no longer afraid.

* * * *

Jonathan waited for Rowen to get past the village before approaching him. He’d been waiting for his return ever since he and his woman Fern had disappeared. Judge Hauthorn had refused to allow him in the courtroom for over a week, telling him a new father should spend time with his wife and child. But he knew better, something was wrong, and he was determined to find out what it was. He was close to going mad with his need to see Mary. Ever since her arrest, he’d been refused time in the dungeon with her.

Sarah had given birth a few nights earlier with the help of Elizabeth Wilds. It was a difficult birth, telling him that the child was not of his blood. Especially when the old woman had confirmed it. He’d spent most days away from home, searching for Rowen. Today when he saw him leave the dungeon, he raised his face in prayer.

It became apparent after a mile or so that Rowen was headed to the cottage. Making sure there was no one else on the road, Jonathan ran to catch him. “Brother Rowen, wait for me please,” he yelled.

Rowen turned at hearing his name. “Jonathan, thank God it is you.” He waited for him to catch up. “I am in need of your assistance, Jonathan, it is urgent.”


Things are bad in Village Salem, Rowen, my Mary will be hung at sunup and I know not how to save her. I too, need your help.” Jonathan clasped his outstretched hand.

Rowen frowned. “Mary? Jonathan, Mary is not in the dungeon. She has been replaced with Fern. Fern is the one who will hang tomorrow. I need you to give me the key to her cell so that I can get her out before morning.”

Jonathan turned away, not wishing to show Rowen his anger. “It was Elizabeth, wasn’t it? She switched them. I will have her hung from the neck, I swear it.” Then another thought occurred to him. “If Mary is not in the dungeon, where is she?”

Rowen shook his head. “I don’t know Jonathan, I hoped she was safe with you.”


I know not where she is, Rowen. But I will find her, I promise ye that.” Turning back, he clasped his fist over Rowen’s shoulder. “I regret I cannot help you. Judge Hauthorn has forbade me entrance to the dungeon, he has my key.”

Rowen slouched in defeat. “It seems as if Elizabeth has won.” His fist clenched in his coat pocket and his knuckles rubbed against the cold hard steel of his pistol. Pulling it from his pocket he looked at it and slowly smiled. “She hasn’t won yet. Come Jonathan, let’s go to the cottage and make our plans. Our women need us, and I’ll be dammed if I, we, disappoint them.”

* * * *

The sisters sat in a circle, hands clasped, waiting for Mary’s answer. Abigail had released her from her room earlier after a week of confinement. She’d gone to the sisters seeking their help when she escaped from her mother after she’d switched her with the girl from her future. “I do not know if I can let the woman die in my place. But I will do as my sisters ask and stay away. All my life I have wanted to be like you, Abigail, strong and courageous. But I cannot fight my mother, she is evil and I am not strong enough.”


You are like us more than ye know, Mary, your power to speak with your mind is even stronger than your mother’s. Yet, your heart is weak because you allow love to guide you.” Abigail broke the circle and stood before her. “You will stay here until tomorrow is done. We will let thy daughter Rose intervene if needed. She is stronger than all of us, and will one day lead us.”

Mary dared to look up into her beautiful eyes. “What of Jonathan, will he ever be mine?”

Abigail hated the weakness of love, especially in one of her own. “Jonathan Nichols is already yours, Mary. Unfortunately, he is caught in a web of his own deceit. Tomorrow will tell all. If his heart is pure, he will be yours.”

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