Bewitching Kisses (Bewitching Kisses Series) (25 page)

The knock at the door made both men turn, Wadsworth stood in the doorway. "Sir, excuse me for interrupting," he said. "But Luther is here and insists on speaking with you. Also Peter Beckett has arrived. The
Lady May
has just returned from Salem."

Nick turned to Chris. "Now we'll get some answers, I trust. Wadsworth, send Beckett in and ask Luther to wait."

The butler nodded and left, but it was Luther who immediately entered the study.

"You have to excuse me, Mr. Beaumont, he said, his voice vibrating with anger. "I know you ain't interested in what's going on over at your grandmother's house and I ain't come to tell you anyway." He paused to take a breath. "I just thought since you've always claimed to be a fair man, you might be interested in this." He flipped a gray envelope onto Nick's desk.

Nick recoiled, recognizing it as the one Danvers had given to Sarah. "I don't appreciate your attitude, Luther," Nick snapped.

Luther's meaty fist crashed down on the desk. "I don't give a damn, sir. You hurt Miss Sarah more than a body's got a right to. But if there's any justice in this world, you'll hurt just as bad once you read this." He shoved the envelope forward on the desk.

"Did Sarah send you with this?" Nick reached for the paper and felt his heartbeat quicken.

"No, sir," Luther said with quiet dignity. "I don't even think Miss Sarah has had time to read it. She's been too busy looking out for other folks. Now if you'll excuse me, I know you're a busy man." Luther turned and left the room.

Chris looked back at Nick. "She has certainly won him over. In all the years I've known Luther, I don't think I've ever heard him raise his voice."

Nick's fingers ran the length of the stiff paper. It still carried the water stains and mud from that fateful night. Slowly, he extracted the folded letter. He recognized the handwriting instantly and, as the words burned into his brain, he felt his heart constrict in agony.

"Dear God, Chris, what have I done?"

Chris pulled the letter from Nick's limp fingers and scanned the contents. "You've just tossed away the best woman in the county."

Nick's head dropped forward to rest in his hands. "Why didn't I see it? Gran was always trying to manipulate things to suit her moods. Why did I never question her part in this? Why was I so ready to blame Sarah?"

Chris tossed the note back on the desk. "If Agatha were alive, hers would have been the first name on your lips. But with death, we try to remember only the good."

Nick straightened, his eyes filled with reproach for himself. "I hurt her, Chris. You heard what Luther said. She'll never forgive me."

"Are you going to just give up? If you are, I'll tell you plain here and now that I'll be on her doorstep with ring in hand before the sun sets."

The despair in Nick's eyes turned dangerous. "Tread gently, friend," his voice was cold. "That is my wife you speak of."

Chris grinned. "Then just what are you going to do to win her back?"

Nick rose and went to the study door. "First I am going to get my answers from Beckett and then I am going to see my wife. You are welcome to join me for the first, but not the latter.

The two men sat in stunned silence as Beckett stood before them and told of the happenings in Salem. "The entire village is in chaos," he said. "Neighbors feeding off the fear of neighbors . . . never have I seen such madness."

"Then you think there really is something to this witchcraft?" Chris gasped.

Beckett shook his head. His hands twisted his knit cap as he searched to find the words to describe the horror he had witnessed. "Have ye ever seen a woman go hysterical, sir?" he asked finally. "One that's been so taken with grief or fear that she can't even think anymore, and much as ye don't want to, ye need to slap her to bring her round again? Well, Salem Village is like that, so consumed with its fear about witches that it's hysterical.

"I could believe it of a few," Nick said slowly. "But an entire village? Surely there is someone there with common sense."

Beckett nodded. "I met a well-learned man from Topsfield. Being from the next town over, he came out of curiosity to see the trials. For, like yourselves, he couldn't believe an entire village could be so taken in."

"And . . . ?" Chris prompted.

Beckett looked down at his feet. "We sat together at the hearings, and like I said, he was a real learned gentleman. He saw the trials for the mockery they were, and later that night he voiced his opinion at the tavern where we stayed. Said that those girls weren't bewitched, just in need of a good paddling."

"Did anyone listen?"

"Aye, sir, they listened, and good. Arrested him the next day and put him in jail."

"But why?" Chris gasped, unable to comprehend the full meaning of what he was hearing.

Beckett took a deep breath. "In Salem, sir, if you speak against witchcraft trials, then ye must be a supporter of witchcraft, and therefore ye are accused and found guilty by yer own words. For they believe that only those in league with the devil would try to deny it exists."

"This is madness," Nick snapped in anger.

"Aye, sir, but there's more. Miss Sarah's been accused."

"Of witchcraft?" Nick and Chris spoke in unison.

Beckett nodded slowly. "Aye, sir. Seems that some old biddy in town claims to have seen her turn into a cat. They think that's why she's not there anymore, that she's off roaming the countryside looking for mischief to do for the devil."

"But surely her family doesn't believe such a ridiculous tale." Nick jerked to his feet and began to pace. "Did you give them Sarah's letter?"

Beckett's face grew sad and his eyes pleaded for understanding as he pulled Sarah's letter from the leather pouch at his side. "I know what ye told me to do, sir." He handed the unopened letter back to Nick. "But when I seen how things was up there, well I just think ye should know that the old woman isn't alone with her accusation. Miss Sarah's sister-in-law also claims to have witnessed the transformation. They've burned her house to the ground and her stepbrother, Samuel Wittfield, has reclaimed his family land."

"I don't believe it. Her own family?"

Beckett nodded. "Aye. When I seen how the winds were blowing, I grew afeared for Miss Sarah. Not knowing what her letter said, I feared she might have said exactly where she was living. Sir, I think it was Samuel that sold her to Riggins in the first place. I didn't think ye would want the man to know where Miss Sarah was."

"Did you tell them anything?" Nick's voice contained the anger he was holding onto by threads.

Beckett shifted nervously. "Only that I knew she was safe and in Virginia. I thought if I was wrong, her family would be grateful for the information. But, sir, I don't think I be wrong."

"My God," Chris flopped back in his chair.

"Beckett, were you able to get any information on Sarah's friend, Rebecca Nurse?"

Nick watched the man's ruddy face go pale. "They found her guilty of witchcraft, sir. I watched as they hung her."

Nick braced his arms against the mantel and stared at the cold ashes. "This news is going to break her completely. After what I've done to her, to hear that her old friend is dead and her family has used and abandoned her – I just don't know how much more she can bear."

"Sir?" Beckett pulled another letter from his pocket. "When I spoke to Samuel Wittfield and told him I was going to travel south again, he gave me this letter to take to Miss Sarah. But I think you should have it."

Nick turned and reached for the folded paper. "There's no seal." He sat at his desk and looked up at his agent. "He gave it to you like this?"

Beckett nodded. "I think the man wanted it to be read, and not just by Miss Sarah. Read it, sir, and ye will see what I mean."

Nick's eyes ran down the paper. When he looked up, his face was filled with rage.

"What is it?" Chris demanded. "Do they tell her her friend had been killed?"

Nick shook his head, wishing he could plant his fist in the face of Samuel Wittfield. "Her brother expresses his sorrow that Sarah was the victim of such a hideous crime. He states how relieved he and his wife are to learn that she is safe, and then the son of a bitch begs her to return home with great haste, for they miss her dearly."

"What?" Chris gasped. "And he doesn’t mention that she's been accused of witchcraft?"

Nick tossed the letter to his desk. "Not a damn word – "

"Begging pardon, sir," Beckett interrupted. "I know the letter asks Miss Sarah to come home. But, sir, I'd lay a year's wages that she'd be in jail before the sun could set."

Nick rested his hand on Beckett's shoulder "You've done a good job, Peter, and I thank you for it. But I need your silence in this matter until I can see it settled."

Beckett straightened. "Ain't nobody should have to go through what Miss Sarah did – being sold in the dead of night, and by the very ones ye hold dear. Ye have my word none shall hear of this by my lips. But the crew was in Salem, too. They witnessed the madness and are sure to talk."

"Did they know you inquired after Sarah?"

"No, sir, I was very discreet."

Nick nodded. "Then the crew would have no reason to place Sarah in connection with the madness."

Beckett smiled for the first time. "No, sir, they surely wouldn't."

"Good. Now I want you to stop out back and see Mrs. Killingham. If my nose hasn't betrayed me, she's been baking cherry pies today and I know they're your favorite."

Beckett's face beamed with pleasure. "Thank ye, sir."

Nick held a tight rein on his anger until the study door closed. "That son of a bitch," he snarled, snatching the letter from his desk. "What man would sell his own sister into bondage and then beg her to come home where he knows she could be killed?"

Chris shook his head sadly. "Sarah spoke about her friend Rebecca. And for the life of me I cannot fathom how a village of God-fearing people could stand by and watch a frail old woman be hung." He looked at Nick through eyes filled with confusion. "What are you going to do?"

Nick tossed Samuel's letter back onto his desk with disgust. "I need to go down to Jamestown for a few hours and see to the
Lady May
. Then I shall pay an overdue visit to my wife."

"Mother and Julie will expect to come for dinner this evening," Chris reminded him.

Nick picked up his gloves. "You are all welcome. Do you wish to join me in Jamestown?"

Chris smiled and rose from his chair. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. That will be give me an hour down and an hour back to question you on how you plan to win Sarah back."

Despite his foul temper, a smile tugged at the corners of Nick's mouth. "You think I will share that with you?"

Chris gave Nick an exaggerated wink. "I know you're legendary with the ladies. And now that you are an old married man, it seems only fitting that you should pass on the secret of your success."

Nick chuckled and shook his head, amazed at the contentment he found in being labeled an old married man. "Let's go," he admonished. "Time is fleeing, and I would have my business done so I can reclaim my wife."

"Then why not see Sarah first?" Chris asked as they reached the front door.

Nick shook his head. "I would still need to go to Jamestown. No, I'll have the business over and done with and then I can turn all my attentions where they really matter."

"To Sarah?"

Nick smiled. "To my wife."

Chapter Twenty –Two

Julie Morgan dismissed the carriage driver and gazed longingly at the grand white house that stood before her.
You should have chosen me, Nick
, she thought, walking slowly up the brick path. Pausing at the entrance, she patted her long blond curls and pinched color into her cheeks before raising the knocker. Her most dazzling smile was firmly in place when Wadsworth opened the door.

"Mrs. Morgan to see Mr. Beaumont," she stated formally, brushing past the butler to step into the foyer.

"Why, Miss Julie, is that you?" Wadsworth's face lit with recognition. "Why, I haven't seen you since you were just a little thing."

Julie gave the butler a withering stare. "It's Mrs. Clarence Morgan now, Wadsworth. Would you please tell Mr. Beaumont that I'm here."

Unruffled, Wadsworth continued to smile. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Mrs. Morgan. Mr. Beaumont has gone with your brother down to the docks in Jamestown."

Julie's face mirrored her disappointment. "Then tell Mrs. Beau . . . Beaumont," she stumbled over the name, "tell Sarah that I am here and wish to see her."

Wadsworth shook his head. "Can't do that, either, Miss Julie. She's over at Mrs. Beaumont's old house. We had a bad storm a few days back and lots of folks were left without a place to live. Miss Sarah's been helping them out a bit."

Julie rolled her eyes. "How very noble." She glanced about the sonny foyer. How she loved this house, with its crisp white walls, bright airy windows, and sinfully expensive paintings. She sighed wistfully at the opulence of it all. "Wadsworth, I've decided I'll wait. Would you bring me a julep, please?"

Wadsworth's smile turned dubious. "It might be a long time, Miss Julie. Are you sure you wouldn't want me to fetch a carriage to carry you back to town?"

Julie pulled her shoulders back and gave Wadsworth her haughtiest stare. "I shall wait in the study. I'm sure Nick won't mind if I amuse myself with one of his volumes until he and my brother return."

"If that's what you wish, miss. It's right through here."

Julie brushed past the butler. "I know where it is, Wadsworth," she sighed. "Now will you get me that drink, or am I going to have to tell Mr. Beaumont you were rude to me?"

Wadsworth's face turned to stone. "As you wish, madam."

Julie waited until the study door was closed before dancing across the room and flopping down in the chair behind Nick's desk. Her fingers rubbed against the smooth grain of the wood as her eyes scanned the book-filled room. What a waste, she thought, noting the leather-bound first editions that claimed a special shelf.
You don't know how to spend your money, Nicky. You've squandered so much of it on useless paper. Now, if I were spending it
. . . Julie sat up straight and frowned. A small black vase rested on the corner of Nick's desk but its pink roses were days past their prime and petals had already started to fall.

She clucked her tongue with disgust. "I'd never let the servants get away with such sloppy housekeeping," she said to the empty room. Plucking the wilted roses from the vase, she crossed the room and dropped them into the ash can. She returned to the desk and tugged at the knobs, only to find all the drawers locked. Her fingers ran down the spine of Nick's quill and she fancied him penning her an amorous letter. Then she saw it. Hastily tucked within the pages of his book, the folded note beckoned her to look closer. Without a moment's hesitation, Julie reached for the volume and withdrew the paper. She scanned the contents and her eyes began to sparkle as a devilish smile tugged at her lips. "Well, well, well," she said softly. "Little Sarah's family misses her." Her mind clicked at a furious speed and her brow wrinkled. Why wasn't' the letter with Sarah, she wondered. Could it be that Nick was so possessive he begrudged her a trip home? She imagined Nick's dark eyes smiling down at her. "I want you always at my side, Julie," he would declare solemnly. She felt her heart begin to flutter. "I would never leave you, my darling," she whispered. Julie straightened and scanned the letter again.
I would never leave
, she thought,
but Sarah would, or Nick wouldn’t' have kept this from her.

The study door edged open. Julie jumped to her feet, shoving the letter into her reticule in the process. "Wadsworth," she gasped. "You gave me a start."

"Sorry, madam." His tone was clipped and formal. "I am just bringing the refreshment you requested."

Julie shook her head, making her blond curls dance about her shoulders. "I've changed my mind, Wadsworth," she said lightly. "You may fetch me a carriage. I don't feel like waiting after all."

Wadsworth frowned and glanced down at the silver tray he carried. "Do you not wish your drink, madam?"

Julie breezed across the room, whisked the glass from the tray, and took a dainty sip. "There . . ." She returned the drink. "Now if you are satisfied . . ." She looked down her nose. "You may fetch me a carriage."

Wadsworth glanced about the room. Something was amiss, he could feel it in his bones. "As you wish, madam. I shall call you directly."

"Oh, pooh," she said, dancing by him. "I shall wait on the porch so do hurry."

Wadsworth gave a curt nod and left to do her bidding.

Julie found Sarah folding children's clothing in Agatha's back parlor. "My goodness, you look terrible," she said, taking in the dark circles that ringed Sarah's eyes. "What on earth have you done to yourself?"

Sarah smiled in greeting but didn't stop her chore. "Julie, how nice to see you again. I didn't know you were coming for a visit so soon."

Julie pulled a chair near, dusted its clean surface with her handkerchief, then sat down. "Chris brought Mother and me when we heard of Agatha's death. The families have always been extremely close, you know."

Sarah nodded but remained silent.

Julie looked about the room. The heavy draperies had been pulled back to let the sunlight in, but she wrinkled her nose at the dark-colored walls. "Why are you doing that?" she grimaced at the wicker basket that sat at Sarah's feet. "Why isn't one of your servants taking care of it?"

"Everyone is already busy," Sarah said easily.

Julie rolled her eyes. "Sarah," she said in an impatient tone. "Servants are never busy. Oh, they'll tell you they are, but they're really not." She picked the child's smock from Sarah's lap with two fingers and dropped it back into the basket. "You're going to have to learn how to give orders if you are going to have a successful marriage. Why, you should be home right now seeing to Nick's dinner party."

Sarah felt her chest tighten. He had said she'd get not even a good morning, but she hadn't realized it could hurt so much. She hadn't known that just the mention of his name would bring back the lump in her throat and make her eyes hot and stingy. Her hand trembled as she reached down to retrieve the smock. "Julie, I appreciate your advice . . . but circumstances have been a little hectic of late – "

"Oh, I know," Julie interrupted. "We heard all about the storm and how you've taken folks in. But Sarah, Nick is not going to be at all impressed if tonight's dinner doesn't go well."

Sarah struggled to keep her voice even. "I'm sure Mrs. Killingham has everything under control. She's been with Mr. Beaumont for years."

Julie watched Sarah's pale face grow paler still, and a flicker of excitement stirred within her. Something was definitely wrong between the newly wed couple. Could it be that Nick had found marriage as confining as she had? Or was he just asserting his will as Clarence had tried so hard to do?

"You know, now that you're married, you really shouldn't let Nick get the upper hand," she counseled. "I don't care how many times he says he loves you, you've got to learn to be strong to get your own way."

Sarah swallowed hard.
But he never said he loved me
, her mind screamed with pain.
I offered him my very soul and he left in the rain
. She tried to speak, but couldn't find her voice.

"I will never let Clarence have control over me," Julie continued primly. "I don't care what the law says about him being the master of the house. I'm going to do what I want. You should too."

Sarah tilted her head in confusion. "What would you have me do?"

"Well, if I were you and I wanted to go home for a visit," Julie leaned forward, "Then I would go and I wouldn't care what Nick said to the contrary."

Sarah's eyes turned wistful. "I would love to see my family again."

"How long have you been visiting in Virginia?" Julie tried to keep her voice casual as her excitement grew.

Sarah paused. "It's been over three months," she said slowly. Three months longing for her family . . . waiting for word . . . losing her heart . . .

"More than three months! Then, Sarah, why are you letting Nick keep you here?"

Sarah shook her head slowly. "That is not the case."

Julie reached for her hand. "Please don't think me too personal, but I feel we women must stick together in matters such as these. Tell me, do you know of your brother's letter?"

Sarah's eyes grew wide. "A letter from Samuel?"

Julie nodded and slowly tugged the drawstrings on her bag. "I thought as much. Look, I found this in Nick's desk." She handed Sarah the letter.

"But . . ."

"Now don't go getting all stuffy about how I shouldn't have taken it. It was sitting right out on his desk, and when I realized it was for you, I simply thought I'd bring it. Besides," she patted Sarah's trembling hands, "as much as I adore Nick, I think he's wrong to keep you from going to your family if that's what you want to do."

Sarah's eyes scanned the letter for a second time. "Samuel wants me to return home immediately," her voice was dazed. "What am I going to do?"

Julie smiled. "Well, when Clarence didn't want me to make this trip with Mother and Chris, I just threw a tantrum until he gave in."

"A tantrum?"

"Never mind," she said, patting Sarah's hand. "You'd never be convincing anyhow. But, tell me, do you really want to go back to Salem?"

Sarah nodded. "More than anything else in the world."

"Then you're going to go." Julie stood and her mind clicked into action. "And today, if we can find a boat."

Totally overwhelmed, Sarah stopped as Julie tried to tug her from the room. "I can't go today. There is too much to do here."

Julie forced her scowl into an expression of concern. "Why, Sarah, I'd be happy to lend a hand here in your absence." Her eyes glanced down as the basket of laundry.
I'd have these servants whipped into shape in no time
, she thought. "I know there is much to do, but I'm sure I could manage it."

Sarah smiled in gratitude but shook her head. "That is so kind of you," she said softly. "But what would I use for fare? How would I book a passage?"

Julie waved aside her protest. "You go upstairs and pack your things. Take little with you so no one notices what you are doing. I still have my carriage outside and I will lend you the money for passage."

Sarah paled. "You want me to leave and not even say good-bye? Julie, I can't do that. These people are very dear to me."

"They might be dear to you," Julie huffed, "but I tell you true that they are loyal to Nick. If you go running around saying good-bye, Nick will be here within minutes and he'll be madder than a wet hen."

He's already that mad
, Sarah thought as she turned to the stairs. And briefly she wondered if he wouldn't be relieved to find her gone. With a heavy heart, Sarah went to her room and looked at the multitude of things she had accumulated: the lovely sapphire dress Charlotte had so skillfully created, the many gowns Nick had ordered . . . These she folded carefully and left on the end of her bed. They would never do in Salem.

Taking the bag Agatha had once loaned her, Sarah placed a clean nightrail and shift inside, along with her black velvet gown. Her packing completed, she turned to the small desk in the corner of her room and quickly penned a good-bye note to Luther and Mrs. Hempsted. But her eyes swam with tears as she sealed the final one, to Nick.

Rising, she looked about the room. Agatha had been so generous, she thought. Taking in a stranger and treating her as family.
Someday, I shall return the kindness to someone else, she thought, and I shall remember you always
. She crossed to the dresser with her letters and saw the tortoiseshell comb Nick had given her. With hands that were far from steady, she propped her notes against it. Then, looking down, she touched the golden links that spanned her wrist.

Clutching the bracelet to her chest, Sarah's eyes pressed closed with pain. "Do I take you for the memories" she whispered, "or do I leave you here with my heart?" Slowly she opened her eyes. She unhooked the catch with trembling fingers and placed the bracelet on the dresser. For a full minute she stood silent, then, taking a deep breath, Sarah picked up her bag and bid a silent farewell to Agatha's household.

The sun slipped from view as Nick climbed back into the carriage at his grandmother's house. "I don't understand it," he said to Christopher. "Sarah isn't here. Luther said she left with Julie this afternoon. Julie told him they were going into town to shop and not to expect Sarah until very late."