Silver Tears (29 page)

“Whyever not, my darling?”

“I should have waited for you downstairs.” He backed away as if he meant to leave.

“Chris? What’s wrong?” Alice asked.

“What’s wrong is that you are too beautiful, too tempting to be real. But you are real—warm, soft, flesh and blood, and, though I still find it hard to believe, you’re all mine. My darling, you look far too bewitching in that gown for your own good. I have the most powerful urge at the moment to strip it from you, tear away the lace, and tumble you in your stockings and petticoats as if you were a shamelessly lusty bar wench and I a starved suitor with no morals nor inhibitions to my name.”

Alice hid her blush behind her silver fan. “Oh, how you do go on, Christopher Gunn.”

“You’d better send me away this minute, I’m warning you.” As he spoke he moved toward her.

When he reached for her, Alice stepped back. “Don’t you dare muss my gown.”

His fingers closed on the softly knotted lace at her bosom. “I don’t want you to cover up such a lovely sight.” He untied the falling band and whisked it from her shoulders. At first only his eyes caressed her flesh, then his fingertips moved across the tops of her breasts, making Alice quiver and sigh.

“Chris, we haven’t time,” she murmured. “Our guests will be arriving any moment.”

Now his lips were on her breasts, smoothing soft kisses over her softer skin.

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “Why do you have to be so damned lovely, so damned warm, so damned tempting?”

By the time he finished with her, Alice would have gladly sent down word to Mignette for their guests that the party was cancelled. But Chris finally drew away, after kissing her mouth one last time.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said. “I didn’t meant to start something we couldn’t finish. I only came up here to give you a gift. I had the jeweler conspire with your dressmaker, and they both assured me these will match your gown.”

He handed her a blue velvet box. Alice opened it to find a bib of silver and sparkling sapphires with earrings to match. “Oh, Chris, how lovely,” she murmured.

He clasped the necklace for her, then let his hands rest on her bare shoulders as they both stood before the looking glass, admiring the blue fire blazing from her throat.

“You’re right, darling, they’re perfect,” Alice said, “but I think my gown is cut too low without the lace.”

His eyes strayed to her bosom and he smiled. “Only low enough to make every other man jealous of me tonight.” He nibbled at the dimple in her shoulder. “Leave off the lace, love. For me?”

“Oh, very well,” Alice said, laughing. “If you want me to be the scandal of all Boston, it’s on your head.”

Chris was about to take his wife in his arms once more when they heard the door open downstairs.

“Our first guests,” Alice whispered. “Darling, we must go down now.”

Chris groaned, but left off fondling her. He was inclined to groan again when he saw the first arrivals were none other than Captain and Mrs. Jonathan Hargrave.

“I’m sorry we’re here early, but it’s such a long drive from the farm that we allowed a little more time than was needed.” Hargrave offered his lukewarm apology as soon as he spied their hosts coming down the stairs, but actually, he’d been too eager to see Alice again to wait a moment longer. But upon seeing her his heart sank. He could easily guess what she and her husband had been up to as he took note of Alice’s flushed cheeks and bosom along with the gleam in her blue eyes.

“That’s quite all right, Jon,” Alice answered. “Someone surely has to be the first to arrive. Mrs. Hargrave, may I call you Prudence? I hope we’ll become good friends.”

The tiny, black-clad woman’s disapproving gaze was glued to Alice’s low bodice. “You may call me whatever you like, Mrs. Gunn,” she stated without a trace of warmth in her voice.

So be it, Mrs. Hargrave, Alice thought. We’ll do this your way.

Aware that the woman’s eyes were still on her bosom, Alice fingered the bib of sapphires, pretending she thought the look directed at her jewels. “My husband surprised me with this wonderful necklace tonight. Isn’t it lovely? He’s such a thoughtful man.”

Mrs. Hargrave’s bony hand went to the plain, high collar of her black dress. “It’s always been my opinion that a woman’s shining goodness is all the adornment she needs.”

“Prudence!” Jon Hargrave reprimanded.

“Your wife is quite right, actually,” Chris said in a pleasant tone. “I have to admit my disappointment when I first saw these jewels nestling there against Alice’s breasts.” He ignored Mrs. Hargrave’s shocked intake of breath when he plainly spoke of his wife’s anatomy. “I paid a fortune for that necklace, only to have its luster pale beside my dear wife’s shining goodness.”

“Nicely put, Gunn,” Hargrave agreed. Prudence glared at him.

Trying to dispel the tension in the room, Alice ushered everyone into the dining room to fill their plates.

“Mignette is a marvelous cook,” Alice told them. “She claims she uses native spices and herbs. Personally, I’ve never seen any of these ingredients. I’m almost inclined to think she simply whispers some island magic over every dish to enhance the flavor.”

Mrs. Hargrave’s hand stopped midway to her mouth. She eyed the morsel of pastry between her fingers, then dropped it, untasted, to her china plate.

Mary Phips didn’t bother to knock at the Gunns’ front door. She rushed in, a beaming vision in golden brocade lavished with gilt braid and rubies from her husband’s Caribbean treasure trove.

“My dears, am I late?”

Chris embraced her warmly. “Mary, you know no party could begin until you’ve arrived. Welcome!”

Mary turned to Alice and cried out, ecstatic at the sight of her. “My girl, you look as fine as a queen. Oh, to be young and in love and in the full bloom of beauty again. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Hargrave?”

“It’s always been my opinion,” the sour-faced woman replied, “that beauty is only skin deep and youth is a time of waste and foolishness. As for love, Lady Phips, that should be reserved for God alone.”

“Oh?” the surprised Mary questioned. “Oh, really?”

“Prudence,” Jon whispered, ushering his wife away from the group, “I think everyone would like to enjoy themselves tonight, and they’ve had quite their fill of your opinions this evening.”

“I told you I didn’t want to come,” she hissed. “How can these people be so mindlessly frivolous when witches are rampant in the land?”

“Prudence, please,” Hargrave moaned. “If you don’t care to be sociable, go and warm yourself by the fire in the parlor.”

Jon’s wife did as he suggested, but only because it pleased her to do so. She could still see and hear everything that went on in the next room, but she could also observe them all unnoticed. She knew that her husband had once been enamored of Mrs. Gunn. And by watching Alice closely as more guests arrived, she could see for herself how the sly girl paid special attention to each of the men. It was no wonder Jonathan had been taken in by her so easily. Imagine displaying one’s chest so shamelessly! All the men, her own husband included, kept staring. No doubt, she mused, the captain would expect sexual gratification when they reached home tonight. Well, he would be sorely disappointed. She refused to satisfy the passions aroused by another woman.

The very thought of passion and such made Prudence feel guilty and dirty. She drew her prayer book out of her pocket and read rapidly, trying to cleanse her mind. After a time she felt much purer and went back to her eavesdropping.

Prudence watched with growing alarm as her husband took their hostess aside for a private chat. Annoyingly, they had moved far enough away to keep their conversation between themselves, but she could tell by the smile on the captain’s face that he was enjoying himself immensely.

When Prudence saw her husband lean close in order to whisper something for Alice’s ears alone, she decided it was time she moved in closer. Pretending to admire the furnishings and wall hangings, she rose and made her way back to the dining room. To her disappointment, by the time she reached them, Jonathan had left their hostess to speak with Dr. Witherspoon. Alice had walked over to Chris and clung to her own husband’s arm. As Prudence watched, Chris bent down and kissed his wife full on the lips.

“Public uncleanness,” Goodwife Hargrave muttered under her breath, incensed.

“I’d hardly term a sweet kiss between husband and wife in those words, Mrs. Hargrave.”

Prudence spun around to find Mary Phips at her elbow, her eyes dark with anger.

“You approve of such a display, Lady Phips? I’m surprised. I’d have thought our governor’s wife above such disgusting things.”

“I pity your poor husband, Mrs. Hargrave, if you find true love disgusting,” Mary said plainly. “A warning: the cold wife often finds her spouse committing ‘uncleannesses,’ as you say, with a more willing woman. I’ve been told that you and Jonathan were sweethearts when you were very young. You might do better to search your heart to recapture the tenderness he admired in you so long ago.”

“Well… I never!” Prudence stammered, then she turned and fled from Mary.

Long after the last guest had departed, Alice and Chris snuggled before the fire in the front parlor. They went over every detail of the evening before finally pronouncing their first gala a total, resounding success.

“I think perhaps even Prudence Hargrave enjoyed herself—in spite of herself,” Chris said with a laugh.

Alice shook her head and sighed. “I can’t agree, I’m afraid. It seemed every time I turned around her disapproving eyes were fixed on me. The woman absolutely makes me shudder, Chris. How could Jonathan have married her?”

“You heard his story. They almost married years ago, but he broke it off to go back to sea. She subsequently married… and married… and married. When he heard of her whereabouts and that she was recently widowed, he proposed again in a letter. She accepted. He could hardly run out on her again, even after he realized what a mistake he’d made.”

“I don’t think he sees her as she is now,” Alice mused. “He seems quite content and spoke of her to me in the most glowing terms.”

“I think the man’s a fine actor, and I really feel sorry for him. How could he not see what a hag she is?” He leaned over and kissed Alice softly. “Ready to go up to bed, darling?”

“Hmmm.” She sighed and stretched. “It’s so nice here, though. A moment longer, love. Kiss me again.”

They were lost in their own world when the rude interruption came. A wagon rumbled up outside.

“Who on earth?” Alice whispered, already frantically guessing the answer to her own question.

Chris rose and went to the window to look out. “Two ministers and a magistrate.” His words came out hollow with fear for his wife.

“No!” Alice gasped, experiencing a rush of all the old terror she’d known back in England. “They’re coming for me, Chris. Oh, darling, what can we do?”

“You’re wrong,” he answered in a confused tone. “They’re going to Mary’s door.”

“Something’s happened to Will. Oh, Chris, we’d better get over there right now.”

They arrived at the Phips house to find Mary in her night-robe confronted by the three solemn-looking men.

“Lady Mary Phips,” intoned John Hawthorne, the magistrate, “you are accused of
maleficium
, the causing of harm to a fellow human being by supernatural and devilish means.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she replied. “Should I wish harm to anyone, I would not need to resort to seeking help from the devil. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’d like to go back to sleep. I’m not used to these late hours.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Lady Phips,” one of the pair of clergymen said. “You are charged with witchcraft. Do you wish at this moment to recant your pact with the devil?”

“I do not, sir.”

“Then I’m afraid you give me no choice,” Hawthorne said. “You will come along with us.”

“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Chris told them. “Lady Mary is the governor’s wife, after all, well respected and, as such, above suspicion.”

“No one is above suspicion, sir,” Hawthorne replied, letting his gaze slide meaningfully to Alice, who stood beside her husband.

“Who would have made such an outrageous accusation?” Chris demanded.

“Goodwife Prudence Hargrave is at death’s door even as I speak after having been threatened by Lady Phips earlier this evening. Worse yet, the governor’s wife actually predicted that Captain Hargrave would commit uncleannesses with another female, and so it has come to pass. Along the way home Captain Hargrave stopped their wagon at a tavern, claiming to be in need of medicinal bitters. His wife remained, thinking he would return directly. When he was not forthcoming, she entered the place only to find her husband in the arms of a bar wench, whereupon she fell to the floor in a fit and became deathly ill.”

“What the hell does any of this have to do with Lady Phips?” Gunn roared.

“Never mind, Christopher,” Mary said resignedly. “I will do what I must do. William will return any day now and put an end to all this foolishness.”

“Mary, no,” Alice murmured, going into her friend’s arms. “You can’t allow them to take you to that awful jail.”

“It seems I have little to say in the matter, my dear.”

A short time later Alice and Chris watched helplessly as Mary was carted off to prison.

Alice leaned her head against her husband’s chest. “Whatever will happen next, darling?”

“I dread to think,” he murmured.

Alice spent most of her time the next few days at the squalid jail, determined to make Mary as comfortable as possible. Chris, meantime, harangued against the imprisonment of the governor’s wife, barging into the offices of government officials and clergymen alike as he fought for her release.

But Sir William had not returned, and the accusations, the trials, and the hangings continued. September’s cooling breezes gave way to the chill of early October, promising a cold and gruesome winter unless things changed for the better.

Alice was distraught over more than the uncertainty of her friend’s fate. She had learned, the first day she visited Mary, that the woman whose child she’d helped deliver had never been released and had died only days after giving birth. Even with the death of the mother, officials refused to release the baby from prison, stating that it was the offspring of an accused witch’s tainted body and would have to stand trial in her stead.

“Can you imagine such a thing, Alice?” Mary said during one of their visits. “Less than a month old and the infant’s to go before her judges. Perhaps God will be merciful and the baby will follow her mother shortly.”

“Mary, don’t talk that way,” Alice replied. “When Will gets back…”

Mary shook her head and smiled wistfully. “If Will gets back, you mean. We have to face the possibility, my dear, that something dreadful may have happened. We both know he should have returned by now.”

Alice went into Mary’s arms, feeling the ache of unshed tears in her heart.

The surly guard who had accosted Alice several weeks before continued to harass her. Now he stepped into Mary’s cell and said, “Time’s up, pretty lady. I’ll see you out so’s none of the prisoners pesters you.”

Alice rose slowly. “I’ll see myself out, if you don’t mind.”

“Happens as though I do mind.” He gripped her arm and dragged her from the cell.

“You leave her be!” Mary demanded.

He glared at her. “Shut your trap, you old witch!”

As the man hauled her through the jail, Alice decided to take advantage of the moment. “That baby whose mother died, where is she?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I helped with the birthing. I’d like to see her.”

“What’d it be worth to me?”

“I have a right to visit whomever I please.”

“Not if I say otherwise, you don’t. If I let you see it, you got to do something for me.” He smiled his crooked smile at her and added, “Something real nice.”

Just then Alice heard the weak wail of the infant. She turned toward the sound and spied the tiny girl lying in a pile of dirty straw. Jerking free from the guard, she ran to the child and picked her up.

“Why, you’re letting her starve to death!” Alice accused.

The guard pulled open his filthy shirt to display a flea-bitten chest matted with coarse hair. “I ain’t exactly got no teats on me. See?”

Alice looked away. “Aren’t there any nursing mothers here?”

“None willing to suckle no bitch witch.”

Alice winced at the term, but hid her feelings well as she said matter-of-factly, “Then I’ll take her home with me.

“Like hell!” The guard snatched the infant from Alice’s arms and tossed her as if she were a rag doll back into the pile of straw. “I ain’t getting my ass chewed for letting that one go missing.”

The baby was screaming from the guard’s rough handling. “Make it shut up, for chrissakes!” he said. “I can’t stand that bawling.”

An idea began taking shape in Alice’s mind. “All right,” she said, “I’ll just sit here and hold her until she falls asleep. You can go on about your duties.”

The guard had no intention of moving from the spot as long as Alice remained there, but when his superior called him to one of the back cells, he was forced to leave her alone with the baby. The moment she was out of his line of vision, Alice slipped the infant into her basket and fled.

All the way home she thought about Chris. She had yet to tell him she was carrying his child. What would he say when she showed up with this shriveled little stranger? It didn’t matter. She was only concerned with getting the baby home where they would both be safe.

That evening Gunn’s efforts in Mary’s behalf finally proved fruitful. She was released in his custody. Chris brought her home himself and insisted that she join them for one of Mignette’s delicious meals.

As happy as she was to see Mary out of jail, Alice was under a strain all through supper. She’d had no chance to tell Chris about the baby. Mignette had the infant in her room—cleaned and fed and sleeping soundly at the moment. But how long could that last? Any second now she would wake up again, hungry and screaming.

“Well, I can tell you both, I’ve had quite an experience these past days,” Mary said. “Not one I’d like to repeat, I’ll admit.”

“I’m glad to see you don’t look any worse for it,” Chris said cheerfully. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t get you released sooner.”

“As I’ve said before, I’m a tough old bird.” She frowned. “I just wish my cock would get himself home to the roost.”

“He’ll come sailing in any day now, Mary,” Chris assured her. “Don’t fret, just help yourself to some more chowder.”

“I believe I will.” Mary reached for the china tureen. “Alice, this is divine.”

“What?” Mary’s comment brought Alice’s attention abruptly back to the table. “Oh, yes, it’s one of Mignette’s specialties.”

“Where is the girl tonight?” Mary asked. “I’ve hardly seen her at all. Usually, she hovers about so.”

“She has something to take care of in her room,” Alice answered quickly.

“You should have stayed longer this afternoon, Alice,” Mary said, trying to change the subject. “We had quite a bit of excitement at the jail.”

“Really,” Alice answered without much interest.

“Yes. That baby you delivered has disappeared. One moment it was there and the next it was gone. Odd, isn’t it? The guards claimed the wee thing was still there, lost somewhere under the straw. When I left, they were pitching out every cell, searching for the child. You’ll be happy to know that rude fellow got blamed since the baby was in his charge.”

“Did he have anything to say about the incident?” Alice asked, extremely curious.

“He finally admitted to having left the infant alone with a woman who’d been visiting the prisoners earlier. He’s certain she stole the baby.”

“Oh?” Alice said, forcing a smile. “How interesting.”

Mary leaned closer. “You wouldn’t know anything about it, would you, Alice?”

“Who me?”

Mary dropped the subject then, to Alice’s relief. She would tell Chris, but she wanted to choose exactly the right moment.

Mary left soon after dinner was finished. Alice and Chris watched until she was safely in her house, then Chris closed and latched the door. Slipping his arms around his wife, he held her against him and sighed.

“Well, that’s the end of that,” he said. “Now that Mary’s safe and sound, I can concentrate on other things.”

“Such as?” Alice asked coyly.

“Such as this,” he replied, untying his wife’s bodice and slipping a hand inside to find her warm breast.

“Chris,” Alice scolded, “what if Mignette comes in?”

“She’s a well-trained servant. She’ll ignore us, darling.”

He covered her mouth with his to silence any further protests. As his tongue caressed hers, Alice found herself beyond protesting. For the past days they’d both been too worried about Mary to think of anything else. Now Alice forgot everything—even the baby sleeping in Mignette’s room—in her need to be loved by her husband.

Her back was to the closed door. Chris was leaning hard against her, his body so tightly pressed to hers that she could feel his urgent heat. She caught his hands and drew them away from her breasts. In turn he grasped her wrists, pinning them to each side of her head against the smooth wood. Holding her prisoner, he kissed her deeply, then let his mouth trail down her neck to the soft valley between her breasts.

“Darling,” she gasped. “Oh, Chris, darling, you’re making me crazy.”

He lifted his head and smiled into her eyes, his own half closed. “Good,” he whispered. “I like my woman wild and crazy.”

He leaned over to kiss her wrist, then let the tip of his tongue smooth down the tender flesh of her arm.

Alice moaned softly. “You’ve never done that before.”

“There are lots of things I’ve never done before, love. Maybe, if you behave, I’ll show you a few of them this very night.”

Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the stairs. Alice leaned against him, kissing his neck, shivering at the thought of how wonderful the next hours would be. After they’d made love, she’d remember to tell him about their baby and the one sleeping downstairs.

Their bedroom was washed in a soft, rosy hue from the fire crackling in the grate. Outside a cold wind moaned, but inside it was warm and comfy. Instead of putting Alice on the bed, Chris set her on her feet before the fire. Slowly he began undressing her. She stood very still, trembling as his gentle hands worked over her—unlacing, unbuttoning, stripping away layer after layer until she stood before him, naked, a blush from the flames softly tinting her skin.

“You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen,” Chris whispered in reverent awe.

For several moments he stood away from her, only his hungry eyes devouring her. Then he gripped her slender waist and drew her close. His mouth went to her breasts—licking, suckling, nibbling—until Alice lay weak with need in his arms.

“Please, my darling,” she whimpered. “I can’t take much more of this.”

He lowered her to the fur rug before the fire and sank down beside her, quickly shedding his own clothes. Once he was nude, Alice turned over and pressed her palms to his chest, holding him her prisoner.

“Now you’ll see what it’s like to be tortured with love, you great heathen.”

Alice kissed his face, his ears, his neck. He writhed beneath her, protesting at each new assault, but she was relentless. When she sank her teeth into his nipple, he howled and broke her hold.

“So that’s the way it’s to be, eh?” he growled. “Well, then…”

Holding her down, he straddled her, letting her feel his readiness, but not giving her what she desired. His mouth went again to her breasts, teasing at first, then suckling deeply.

Alice felt as if she would indeed go crazy. She ached to have him inside her, but he continued his love play. When he drew away from her breasts, she moaned with disappointment.

“Bite me,” she begged. “Oh, bite me, darling.”

Chris did as she asked, nipping her breasts all over, sending exquisite little bursts through her whole body.

At last he sank into her—slowly, smoothly, deeply. Alice called out his name and clung to him. The fire flickering beside them seemed now to be burning within her own soul.

They had yet to give up their intimate embrace when they heard the pounding at their front door.

“Who the hell could that be at this time of night?” Chris groaned and rolled away from Alice.

He pulled on his britches and hurried downstairs while Alice was dressing. Waiting outside, he found a constable and the head jailor.

“We believe you’re harboring a criminal here, sir,” the officer said.

“I’m doing no such thing. If you mean Lady Phips, she was released earlier today. She’s no more a criminal than you or I.”

Alice slipped down the stairs in time to hear the man say, “It ain’t the governor’s wife we’re looking for. We’ll be searching the premises. Stand aside.”

Without waiting for an answer, the two men pushed past Gunn.

“Chris, don’t let them come in,” Alice begged, knowing what they would find.

He put his arm around her, trying to calm her. “Darling, it seems there’s not a thing I can do to stop them.”

Both Chris and Alice froze as the infant’s wails reached their ears.

“What the hell?” Chris muttered.

“It’s the baby Mary was talking about at supper,” Alice confessed in a whisper. “Chris, I was going to tell you upstairs. She was starving in that jail. Something had to be done.”

“Something, yes, Alice, but to allow her to be brought here?” He shook his head. “What could you have been thinking?”

The two men returned to the dining room. The jailor had the child in his grasp, while the constable kept a firm grip on Mignette’s arm.

“We’ll be taking them both, Mr. Gunn. Your serving woman here admitted to stealing the bitch witch. Judging from them heathen articles we found in the woman’s room, I’d say the both of them are in league with the devil.”

In spite of the dire circumstances Chris felt a sense of relief. He’d assumed Alice meant
she
had taken the baby.

“No,” Alice cried, “Mignette didn’t—”

The almond-skinned woman cast a pleading gaze toward her mistress, begging silently with her eyes to be allowed to do this for Alice.

“That woman is my property,” Chris said. “You can’t just take her from my house this way.”

“You’ll get a receipt, all legal and proper, Mr. Gunn,” said the jailor, “but it seems to me you’d be relieved we’re taking her off your hands. These Carib Indian women can be right dangerous.”

“Mignette, you can’t do this,” Alice said quietly. “I won’t let you take the blame for me.” Turning to the men, she said, “I took the child.”

“No!” Mignette cried. “My mistress is only trying to protect me. It is no use, madame. I have already told them the whole truth.”

Alice started to renew her protests, but a sharp look from her husband silenced her. She watched helplessly as the two men took Mignette and the baby away. Once they were gone, Chris turned to her, his face pale with a mixture of anger and fear for his wife.

“Alice, why on earth would you do such a thing?”

“I couldn’t just stand by and watch that baby starve to death.”

He stared at her, his deep green eyes widening in disbelief. “I meant why would you tell such a dangerous lie to try to protect Mignette? Do you mean you were telling the truth about taking the child yourself?”

She nodded. “The child wouldn’t have survived in that awful place another day.”