Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (25 page)

Greer would not leave my side and even
Sneachta, who was still weak, stayed close to me. Looking at her
bandages reminded me yet again of the ruthless nature of my hunter.
I hated him now. I vowed to myself while staring transfixed into
the fire that I would kill him. I would not do it quickly either.
He would pay for all the pain he had caused. I would avenge them
all.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Everyone in the town attended the funeral of
Rebecca and her sisters. The church was crowded and stuffy, even in
the cold winter's air. My family sat in the middle pews of the
church, and I could see the Marthaler family in the front row. They
were dabbing their eyes and pretending to feel remorse. I doubted
they even knew Rebecca or sweet little Ginny, precocious Mercy, or
the soft hearted Sarah.

The Minister went on and on with his sermon.
He said all the usual prayers regarding death. We had heard them
all before, and I wondered if anyone found comfort in them when
they thought of how these girls were slain. It was no mystery. The
details of their murders were disclosed to all. Their bodies had
been found slashed to pieces, internal organs spilled out upon the
bed, throats slashed and their blood soaked into the bedding.

Rumors were all around us. Before the sermon
started, the crowd buzzed with vile speculations of Native curses
seeking revenge for denying Rebecca's lineage. I wanted to scream
at the ignorant people around me. How could they not see that this
was the same creature that had left the bear on the road merely
days before? They were ignorant and so blinded by their hatred of
all that was different from them that they could not even piece
together a simple puzzle. Instead, they chose to use this tragedy
as an excuse to point fingers and promote their own causes. It was
disgusting.

I hoped that the Natives would not be held
responsible for Rebecca and her sisters' deaths. That would be
horrible.

As the bells were rung and the incense
burned, I thought of Rebecca. She was always kind to those around
her. Even when the horrible children teased and taunted her about
her family, she never spoke an ill word to anyone. I remembered how
I had asked her numerous times if she would like to join me for
afternoon tea, but she always said no. She was forever at her
mother's side. Always helping her family and taking no time for
herself.

I looked around me and saw rows upon rows of
hypocrites. People, who had spread nasty rumors about her family,
called her a “half-breed” and pointed fingers at her, now sat
silently dabbing their eyes as though she and her little siblings
were their best friends.

The girls were to be buried on their family's
property. They were not wealthy and therefore the children would
not be buried near the church. Her family sat behind us, a few rows
back, and I saw them as we walked to our pew. They looked grievous
and sick. The two little boys clung close to their mother, and
their father held their hands as though he was afraid to let them
out of his sight. I wanted to offer my condolences, but I realized
that they did not care. Nothing that I could say would make them
feel better. I was not their daughter's friend. I was merely an
acquaintance and I could offer them no peace from the pain they
felt.

The service ended and we all flooded outside
of the building. Someone grabbed my arm as I pressed through the
crowd. It was Abigail.

“Aislin, how are you?” she asked in a
strained voice.

I stopped walking and let the crowd move
around us, “I am fine Abigail. And you?”

“Horrible.” Her bottom lip quivered and her
eyes filled with tears, “I need to speak with you. Can you meet me
somewhere?”

I thought of the danger that now lurked about
me, “I have to stay home today. But you can come to my house if you
like.”

Abigail took my hand as she had when we were
little and walked with me. My mother and father looked surprised to
see her by my side, but said nothing ill natured toward her. It was
obvious that she was distraught and I believe everyone but me
thought she was crying over Rebecca. As much as I loved Abigail, I
knew that she never shed tears for anyone but herself.

********************

“It is a horrible thing, what happened to
Rebecca,” Abigail said, as she made herself comfortable on my
bed.

“Yes, it is terrible,” I trailed off, “Are
you truly crying over Rebecca? I do not recall you two being
close?”

Abigail shrugged and dabbed her eyes, “Well,
no. Of course, I am sad about Rebecca but I, I . . . Oh Aislin,”
she stammered.

What happened?” I asked.

Abigail dropped her head into her hands and
sighed. “I am so confused. Jack wants nothing to do with me
anymore,” she wept.

“How do you know that?” I asked, while
Greer's conversation with Jack resonated in my mind.

“I went to meet him at the shop two nights
ago. He was not there, so I walked around the back of the building
and found him with Mary Visser. They were . . . ” she sighed deeply
and I wiped the tears off her cheek for her.

“Abigail I am so sorry. Did he see you? Did
he say anything?”

She crumpled the kerchief between her fingers
and nodded, “He left Mary for a moment and told me that he did not
love me anymore. He said that I should go and marry the old man and
forget about him,” she slumped down onto the bed and cried like a
child.

I hated seeing her upset and wished that I
could find words to comfort her and yet, just like in the Church, I
knew that I could do nothing to help.

I sat next to her and stroked her hair while
she finally let out all her sadness. I could tell that she had been
holding all of this in and had nowhere else to let out her
emotions.

“Does anyone else know?” I asked.

“No. You are the only person I trust.”

I was surprised by her words. After
everything that had transpired between her brother and myself, it
seemed odd that I would be the person she trusted above all else.
Yet, our friendship had always been strong. When we were younger,
we were inseparable. She was like a sister to me. I supposed she
still was.

“I do not hold anything against you for
leaving Zachariah,” she said, as she leaned on her elbow, “I wish
that Mr. Sutphin would be caught in the same way so that I could
get out of marrying him.”

“You do not wish to marry him anymore? But I
thought that you were excited about his wealth and property?” I
asked.

“I should never have gone off with Jack.
Things were so much simpler before I realized that I loved him. Now
I cannot think of anyone but Jack, and at night, I have nightmares
about Mr. Sutphin. About what his touch will be like, and about how
I will never see Jack again. The worst part is that Jack does not
care. He does not love me.” She broke back into sobs.

I held her and let her cry. I felt terrible
for having insisted that Jack dismiss her. I did not think that she
loved him and now her heart was broken. Then I thought of when
Zachariah discovered Abigail’s ring in my father’s shop, and I knew
she would have been flogged if her family had found out about her
tryst. I did not know which would have been a better fate for her
as she continued to weep in my arms.

“When does Mr. Sutphin arrive?” I asked.

“He will be here right before the Ball. That
is when we are to be married.”

“Have you told your family that you are
unhappy?”

“What good would that do?” she almost laughed
at my question, “They did not care that you did not love Zachariah
and they do not care about my feelings toward Sutphin.”

“What will you do?”

“I might run away,” she said.

I thought of this option and realized the
danger that surrounded it. “If you are caught, you would be hanged
for stealing your father's property. You cannot run away,” I
insisted.

“What am I to do?” she pleaded.

“I do not know, but we have some time to
think about it. So do not lose hope.”

I left Abigail upstairs and went down to the
kitchen to fetch some tea for her. I could hear Greer and my mother
speaking in hushed tones in the sitting room. When I passed by
where they sat, their conversation ceased.

“What are you whispering about?” I asked
suspiciously.

Greer shook his head, “Nothing we can talk
about while you have company over,” he said while gesturing to the
stairs.

I nodded that I understood, “I cannot ask her
to leave. She is in a terrible state.”

“I will make her the tea. You should talk to
Greer,” my mother said, as she went into the kitchen.

Greer took my hand and led me to a chair
where he kneeled in front of me so we were eye to eye. “Did you see
that he was at the church today?” he asked in a whisper.

“Who?”

“Lamont. He was sitting up front in the very
first row on the far left side of the building.”

I felt sickness growing in my stomach, “I did
not see him.”

He reached up and touched my face, “I will be
staying close to you at all times. I fear that he has also moved
into town as the winter is settling in. I do not know how long we
can avoid him, but I promise that I will stay by your side.”

I pressed his hand to my face as though I
wanted the sensation of his touch to stay on my skin. My mother
came back into the room and handed me the tray to take to Abigail.
I stood and Greer let me pass. Then he and my mother exchanged a
look and I knew their conversations would continue when I left.

********************

I poured the tea for Abigail who was lying on
my bed, her face cast downward. As I approached her, I saw that she
was holding something between her hands. It was my book!

“What is this?” she asked, as she handed it
to me.

I felt my heart pound hard against my chest
as my mouth went dry. “Just a book,” I said while trying to conceal
my panic.

“It is rather old to be empty,” she said.

I opened it up and flipped through the pages.
They were all blank. I almost laughed, although I realized what a
terrible mistake I had made. If it were not for the magic that
surrounded the book, I would have been found out to be a witch.

“It was a present from Greer,” I said.

Her eyes widened, “Your fiancé? Oh Aislin, he
is so handsome! He is the same man who took you from the port,
yes?” she asked in a dreamy tone.

I nodded and tried not to smile too broadly.
It was nice to sit with her and giggle as we did so long ago.

She smiled back at me and threw a pillow at
me, “You are blushing!” Abigail laughed. “I have never seen you so
smitten over a man before!” she taunted.

“I am not blushing!” I giggled, as I covered
my cheeks with my hands.

Abigail was laughing too, and hit me again
with the pillow, but then her smile slowly faded away. “Zachariah
was complaining about Greer to my father the other night. He said
that he was not done with you and would not even think about having
another as his wife.”

“There is nothing Zachariah can do,” I
retorted, “I will marry Greer.”

Abigail grabbed the skirt of my dress to get
my attention, “Aislin be careful. My brother does not like being
told he cannot have something he wants. He is up to something. I do
not know if it is aimed at you or Greer, but he is planning his
revenge.”

“What is he planning?”

“I do not know. He does not trust me enough
to tell me. He has a hard heart Aislin, and he has not been himself
since the night when he was attacked by highwaymen. You should be
careful.”

Zachariah was the least of my concerns with
the prospect of Lamont lurking around, but for some reason her
words bothered me more than I thought they should.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I never mentioned it to Greer, or my mother,
but I was searching through the book day after day. I had been
successful in finding many potions, spells and hexes. My evenings
were spent devoting my time to memorizing them so I would be ready
for Lamont. I could not handle losing Greer or my family, or even
endangering them any further than I already had, so I kept this a
secret. My idea was that I would face him alone, when I was ready.
Unfortunately, he was living among us and I was losing control over
where and when he would find me.

For the past few nights, I had been carried
to Greer's lodging, or he had stayed with me in my room. It was
lovely and torturous all at the same time, and I wished that his
estate's paperwork would come from Scotland soon. I even thought of
casting a spell to hurry it up, but I realized that the more magic
I did, the more exposed I would be. Every witch knew this. It was
why we were so secretive. That rule was the first my mother had
taught me, yet I was tempted at every turn to use magic.

I thought about helping Abigail and Jack,
about casting a love spell between Zachariah and some witless girl,
and of casting a memory spell to wipe my family and me from
Lamont's mind. Unfortunately, I could not. In fact, the only spells
I could cast were protective spells for Greer and myself.

I lay in Greer's bed and stared at the
ceiling. I could hear people in the tavern below singing, laughing
and yelling. Everyone was happy, completely oblivious to the
dangers that were lurking around every corner.

I could not sleep and I had not been able to
rest since the day that I found out about Rebecca's murder. Visions
of their deaths were haunting me. Every time I closed my eyes, I
could see them as they were mercilessly murdered.

I heard the door open and I sat straight up,
my heart thudding hard against my chest, fearing the possibility
that Lamont had found me. My panic was quickly subsided. It was
Greer, returning from his hunt. He moved quietly and gracefully
through the room as he brushed the snow off his coat and placed it
on the chair by the window.