Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (30 page)

He cursed under his breath, but said no more.
He guided me through the crowd and searched for our table, which
was across from the dance floor by a tall, rectangular, window.

“Wait here,” he said, as he pulled out a
chair for me, “I’ll get us drinks

My mother and father soon arrived and joined
us at the table. My mother looked stunning in her black gown and my
father handsome in his dress clothes. “Are you having fun?” asked
my father, as he seated himself next to me.

“No,” I replied, “I want to go home,” but he
was not paying attention to my protests. He got up to dance with my
mother, who squeezed my shoulder as she brushed passed me.

I looked up to see Abigail walking toward me
and I braced myself. She looked incensed.

“Hello Aislin . . . Jack,” she said in a
short, angry voice.

“You look beautiful Abigail,” Jack said with
true sincerity.

I could tell that even with Greer's spell,
Jack’s love for her had not extinguished.

She blinked a few times and then, seeming
startled by his kindness, regained her composure, “Why are you two
here together?” she blurted out curtly, her eyebrows raised in
speculation.

I reached for her hand, but she pulled away.
“Greer could not accompany me tonight, so he arranged for Jack to
be my escort,” I explained.

She was looking down at me as she stood over
my chair, her hostile expression did not subside after my
explanation.

“Why is it that you have three young men at
your beck and call and I am now tied to an old man?” she had a
bitter tone to her voice.

“Abigail, I have been so worried about you.
Please, sit down and spend some time with me. I never asked for
Jack to be my escort, and I did not want to come to the Ball once I
realized that Greer would not be taking me. Now my only consolation
is getting the opportunity to spend time with you, so please be
kind.”

Abigail looked at Jack for verification.

“She only found out that I was her escort as
her father placed her in the carriage next to me,” he said.

Abigail then sat down beside me and took my
hand, “I am sorry. I should have trusted you.”

“How is it to be married?” I asked.

Jack tried to stay around and maintain
interest, but talk of Abigail's marriage was too much for him, and
he went off in search of his friends.

Abigail watched Jack move across the dance
floor and then start to dance with a girl with shiny copper colored
hair.

“He is horrible. I hate him,” she said
through a vacant expression.

“Do you mean Jack?”

“No. I mean Gillis, my new husband.”

“I am so sorry Abigail,” I whispered.

“You warned me. I remember how angry I was
when you asked me if I had considered the prospect of love. I
thought you were jealous of me. I was so foolish… and now it is too
late. My life is forfeit.” She swallowed back her misery and I saw
her whole body stiffen as her new husband moved toward where we
sat.

“You must be Aislin Collins,” Sutphin
simpered, while taking my unwilling hand and kissing it.

“Yes sir, I am. It is nice to meet you.
Congratulations on your marriage,” I said politely.

I decided right away that I would do nothing
to create any grief for Abigail.

“Well, now I understand what all the talk is
about. You are a very sought after young lady Aislin.”

His features were even harsher then I had
remembered from the tavern. His skin looked as weathered as an old
piece of leather, his teeth were dark and his eyes, almost yellow
in coloration, revealed his sinister nature.

His presence made me uneasy, but I tried to
keep my composure, “People are very kind,” I smiled back at the old
pirate.

I had hoped that he would leave after the
little introduction, but he seated himself next to Abigail, and
directed his attention on me.

“How old are you?” his voice was deep and
gruff.

“Almost twenty Sir,” I replied with a tone of
indifference.

“Your gown is lovely. The color goes
beautifully with your complexion,” he was leering at me as he
spoke, and I felt a shutter run down my spin.

“Abigail's gown is stunning on her. Wouldn't
you agree?” I asked him with harshness in my voice.

He smiled at me as though I had gotten the
upper hand in his little game, “Yes, her gown fits her well.”

From behind Sutphin's shoulder, I saw
Zachariah approach.

“Hello Gillis,” he said in a formal tone.

“Ah, Zachariah, I was just getting to know
your Aislin. She is everything you said and more, in fact . . . you
have my full support,” he then gave Zachariah a glance that was
supposed to be just between them.

“Well Aislin, would you like to dance with
me?” Zachariah asked in a confident tone, as he held out his hand
for me to take.

“No.”

At my answer, his face turned bright red.
Sutphin started laughing at my bluntness and the boy’s
embarrassment. This was too much for Zachariah to endure and he
pulled me out of my chair and dragged me onto the dance floor,
pulling me tightly against him.

“Why can you not understand that I do not
like you?” I said, before I took his bandaged hand and squeezed it
until he screamed and released me.

“We are not done,” he roared, as I turned
back toward my table.

I watched as Mr. and Mrs. Marthaler met the
boy on the dance floor and examined his damaged hand. They babied
him so much that it was surprising he was not carted around by a
wet-nurse. The three of them stood on the floor in the way of all
the dancers, as they tended to his hand and then glared at me. In
turn, I smiled and waved back.

Back at the table, Abigail sat silently as
Gillis drank wine and ate. Apparently, he had invited himself to
stay at my family's table for the evening.

When I saw Sutphin was still there, I turned
again, looking for somewhere to be alone. That was when I saw
Greer. He walked through the doorway and all eyes were upon him.
His dark hair pulled back, it was curly and wavy and did not lay
flat like the other men’s’ did. He was in black dress breeches and
a black jacket. His ensemble was not overdone or frilly like the
others. He was the envy of all that cast their eyes upon him. His
beautiful hazel eyes caught mine and held me in his gaze.

“Greer,” I breathed, as he approached me.

He took my hands in his and kissed them, “You
are enchanting, Aislin.”

“You look wonderful,” I took his arm. “I
thought you were not going to come tonight. I was just about to
find a way to go home.”

Greer smiled down at me, “I told Jack he was
to be your escort, not your fiancé. I guess he neglected to inform
you that I would be arriving late?”

I nodded in reply.

“I apologize for my delay . . . I had some
tracking to do before I arrived.”

He surveyed the crowd as he pulled me onto
the dance floor. Then a reel began to play, and he spun me around
and around in his arms.

“Now this is the kind of music we grew up
with,” he laughed, as we twirled across the floor.

Within an instant, my whole night had changed
from being a somber and horrible event, to being magical. We danced
and danced. He taught me old dances that I knew in another
lifetime, and dances that were currently all the rage in Europe—and
at all times, we were together.

Finally, I was so winded that he brought me
back to the table where Abigail and Gillis still sat. Gillis was
leering at all the women that passed by, as Abigail looked down at
her feet. I flopped down in a chair as Greer seated himself at my
side and poured a glass of wine for each of us.

“You must be Aislin's fiancé?” Gillis asked
as he reached across the table to shake Greer's hand.

“Yes . . . and you must be Abigail's new
husband.” Strangely, the tone of Greer's voice had changed. He was
speaking in an accent with which I was unfamiliar.

Both Abigail and her husband's eyes were
fixed upon Greer.

“Where are you from?” Gillis questioned,
while Greer poured me more wine.

“Spain,” he replied
,
without a hint of deception in his voice.

“Hmmm, Spain. That's a good country. Lot's of
ships and goods to trade. What does your family do there?”

“They are part of the royal court,” Greer
replied casually.

“Do you trade goods at all? Do you own
ships?” Sutphin was excited by Greer's response.

“Aragon is landlocked. I do not care much
about the trade of goods, but you look to me as though you would
prefer to spend your time trading the goods of warmer waters than
Burlington,” Greer said through a crooked smile, although there was
no levity in his voice.

The old swashbuckler squirmed in his seat, “I
would not know about that,” he grumbled.

Soon after their words, my parents joined us.
Dinner was being served now, and the servants were bringing the
feast to us on silver trays.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Martha
amongst the help, and I felt the urge to pull the heavy tray from
her hands. This woman was a great priestess, and she should be
revered.

“I am glad that you could make it,” my father
said to Greer as he clasped him on the shoulder. My mother greeted
him with a gentle handshake and Greer kissed her hand.

“Are you two enjoying yourselves?” she asked
him, as she seated herself at the table.

“Very much so,” Greer smiled in the direction
of Gillis Sutphin, who was now apparently regretting having invited
himself to sit at our table.

A very foppish looking man stood on a chair
and clanked a crystal goblet with his fork, “Pardon, pardon,” he
announced in a dragged out way, “We are going to say a prayer
before we dine,” his powdered wig sitting crooked on his pointy
head. With an exaggerated sweeping motion of his right arm, he cast
our attention to the Minister.

“Good evening to all! We have much to thank
the Lord for this year. For the harvest that we will enjoy tonight,
for the family and friends that gather around us and for England's
support of all we have built here.”

He went on for a while, talking of the
Sovereignty of the Crown and how we owed allegiance to England and
then he led us in prayer.

“And finally, before we eat I would like to
congratulate the Marthaler's for the marriage of their daughter
Abigail to Mr. Sutphin of Virginia,” he said, while raising a glass
in their honor.

Abigail and her husband stood from the table,
and Abigail blushed wildly as people clapped for them. Gillis gave
a courtly bow before he reseated himself, and yanked hard on
Abigail’s wrist, forcing her to return to her seat.

My thoughts wandered to Rebecca and the
Native girl who was murdered.
Why were they not mentioned? It
was not fair to forget the dead simply because their remembrance
would darken the mood of the evening.
Then, looking around, I
realized that these people did not care.

Greer reached for my hand underneath the
table and held it in his as platters of suckling pig, potatoes,
bread, and carrots were placed before us.

To my surprise, Geer took a hardy sized
helping of the meat, mainly the rarest pieces, and we listened as
Gillis held us captive with his boastings. On and on her expounded
about his Virginia home, his wealth, and his large collection of
slaves that would be caring for Abigail.

To my surprise, Abigail did not seem the
least bit excited about her husband's wealth. She looked as though
she was on the verge of tears, and stared down miserably at her
plate.

Greer squeezed my hand gently. I believe he
read my thoughts, and knew that I was distraught about Abigail's
predicament. Images from my Samhain vision kept creeping into my
mind—they were inescapable.

“Do you truly find it fitting to have your
daughter marry a foreigner?” Gillis prodded my father while
shoveling food into his mouth.

My father looked rather surprised by the
question, “In truth, we are all foreigners here. What does Greer's
nationality matter? They love each other. That is all the reasoning
I need,” he replied cordially, while grinning at us.

Greer said nothing, but rolled the stem of
his wine glass between his fingers and studied the wine itself.

Gillis was not finished. He meant to start a
confrontation with Greer and pressed on, “His kind cannot be
trusted. They are greedy. Gold hunters, that's what they are,” he
jeered.

Greer gently placed his wine glass on the
table, “Better a royalty backed explorer than a highwayman of the
sea,” Greer rumbled.

It was strange that no one at the table
seemed to notice Greer's accent change, but perhaps there was so
much tension at the table that no one particularly cared.

“Now gentleman, this is a night of
celebration and peace,” my father said tentatively.

Greer looked at my father, “You are right
sir. To peace,” he said, as he raised his glass and then drained
it.

Finally, after a tense supper, the plates
were cleared away and the band started to play again.

My mother and father headed to the dance
floor; Greer leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Could you please
escort Abigail to the powder-room? I would like to have a private
word with her husband.”

I gave him a little nod and stood, gesturing
for Abigail to join me. Her husband watched with suspicion as we
both walked away from the table, leaving the men alone
together.

As Abigail and I walked passed the dance
floor, Jack stepped forward, “May I dance with you Abigail?” he
shyly offered his hand.

Abigail beamed at him and they moved to the
dance floor. Indeed, they looked handsome together. Perhaps it was
the way they gazed at each other that made them appear to be such a
good match. Their love was obvious, even to those who did not know
their story.