Bewitching Kisses (Bewitching Kisses Series) (26 page)

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Authors: RainyKirkland

Tags: #historical romance, #rainy kirkland, #salem massachusetts, #romance historical, #romance, #salem, #salem witch trials, #romance 1600s

BOOK: Bewitching Kisses (Bewitching Kisses Series)
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"That sounds like my sister." Chris stretched. "Mayhap when they finished, she persuaded Sarah to return to your house for dinner tonight. After all, she doesn't know any of the details concerning your marriage, and Sarah doesn't strike me as the type who would easily share her problems. I'll wager Julie assumed Sarah would return home with her tonight and Sarah was too embarrassed to say otherwise."

Nick signaled the driver. "You're probably right. With any luck, she's at home right now chatting with your mother."

"Who is going to skin us alive for being so late," Chris warned.

As he predicted, Mrs. Carlson stormed from the parlor when she heard them enter. "Nicholas, I was so sorry to hear about Agatha. But would someone please tell me what is going on?"

"It's wonderful to see you again, Mrs. Carlson." Nick kissed her cheek, then handed his hat to Wadsworth. "Have Sarah and Julie returned?"

"No, they haven't," Mrs. Carlson replied impatiently. "And I want to know what is happening. First I wake to find that Julie has gone on without me, then I arrive at your house at the appointed hour and no one is here to greet me."

Chris placed an arm about his mother's shoulders and led her back into the parlor. "I'm sorry we are late. But it was all Nick's fault."

Mrs. Carlson slapped her son's arm away and shook her head. "When are you two going to grow up? I had hopes when I heard you were married, Nick, but now I'm beginning to wonder." The teasing smile in her eyes took the sting from her words.

Nick poured them each a drink. "We stopped by Agatha's on our way home only to find that Sarah and Julie had gone shopping."

Mrs. Carlson accepted her drink and perched on the edge of a gold settee. "Then there is no telling how long they will be. I am famished and those two are probably knee-deep in sketches at Madame Rousseau's."

Nick started to object, but Mrs. Carlson pressed on. "Nick, I would swear that's where they are. Ever since the wedding Julie has been raving about that lovely sapphire gown Sarah wore. I'm telling you, I know my daughter. She has persuaded Sarah to take her there and she won't be satisfied until she owns every gown in the shop."

"Sir, do you wish me to continue to hold dinner?" Wadsworth questioned.

"No!" Mrs. Carlson rose abruptly to her feet and placed her hand on Nick's arm. "Nicholas, I know I am being extremely forward, and I know you wish Sarah here to join us, but I am starving! Please let us eat, and then you and Chris can go and fetch them."

Chris took in the lines of strain on his mother's face and realized the taxing journey had been harder on her than she was willing to admit. "Nick, I think Mother is right." He turned and caught Nick's eye. "If Julie and Sarah wish to be late, then let them suffer the consequences."

Reluctantly, Nick agreed, silently telling himself that another hour would make little difference between him and Sarah, while, as a host, he did have a duty to the Carlsons.

"Wadsworth, you can inform Mrs. Killingham that we are ready to dine. We've decided not to wait for Julie or Mrs. Beaumont." For the barest moment Nick stood silent, realizing he had referred to Sarah as Mrs. Beaumont for the first time and that the tight knot in his chest was finally starting to ease.

The trio was seated in the dining room when Chris brought up the subject of Salem. "Nick, perhaps Mother would have some ideas how you might broach the matter with Sarah."

Mrs. Carlson looked up from her plate of peanut soup. "What's the matter?" She gave Nick a sympathetic smile. "Is Sarah homesick already?"

Nick shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't meant to share the news, but perhaps Chris was right. "There are trying times in Salem Village, where Sarah is from," he said hesitantly. "Sarah is desperate to return for a visit, but I fear it is unsafe for her to do so."

"Are the Indians that unsettled?" Mrs. Carlson smiled as Wadsworth removed her plate and replaced it with a delicate poached fish in lemon sauce. "I didn't realize that the North was still having such problems."

"The problem is not with Indians, Mother," Chris said quietly. "It is with witches."

Mrs. Carlson's eyebrows drew together. "Christopher, I thought you beyond those childish imaginings."

"They're not imaginings, Mrs. Carlson," Nick said slowly. "A madness has taken over the village and the townsfolk fear that witches walk among them."

"That's dreadful," she gasped, setting aside her fork.

"What is dreadful?" Julie breezed into the room. "Oh, bother, you've started without me." Deliberately she took the seat meant for Sarah at the foot of the table. "That wasn’t' very civilized."

"Is Sarah with you?" Chris asked, noting the dark look Nick was sending his sister.

Julie shook her head and all but snatched the plate of soup from Wadsworth's fingers. "No, she's too occupied at the moment to return." Aware that Nick watched her intently, she tried to be genteel as she spooned the savory soup into her mouth, but her stomach demanded more, and she desperately wished she could just pick up the damn plate and drink it as she so often did when she was home. "Now, what were we talking about?" She smiled as Wadsworth removed her empty dish.

Nick started to rise, but Chris stopped him. "Finish your dinner and then go and fetch her. She's safe enough at Agatha's. Luther won't let any harm come to her. After all, it's not as if she were in Salem."

Julie frowned as she bit into her fish. "What's wrong with Salem? Isn't that where Sarah's family is from?"

"It seems there are witches in Salem." Mrs. Carlson looked down at her steaming plate of vegetables and found her appetite had disappeared.

Julie looked at her mother and laughed. "That's absurd. There are no such things as witches."

Chris set down his own fork "It seems that in Salem there might be. According to what Beckett told us this morning, they've hung several women who have been accused."

"Dear God!" Mrs. Carlson's hand flew to her throat. "They've really gone that far? Where are the magistrates? Why haven't they put a stop to it?"

Nick wearily shook his head. "They, too, have been caught up in the madness. The cry of witchcraft has become an easy scapegoat for many."

Chris nodded. "If my cow's gone dry, what better than to blame it on my neighbor and claim foul play. Perhaps I can even demand restitution for the deed."

Mrs. Carlson watched her daughter go completely still. "Are you feeling ill, Julie? You've gone whiter than the table linen."

Julie struggled to keep the terror from her voice. "What does all this have to do with Sarah?"

Chris, too, took in his sister's pale complexion. "Nick was telling us that Sarah is homesick and wants to return to Salem to see her family. But with things as unstable as they are, it could be dangerous. I asked Mother if she might have some advice as to how to ease Sarah's plight."

"And they've really hung someone?" Julie's voice quivered in fear.

"One of Sarah's closest friends, an old woman called Rebecca Nurse."

Julie felt her fear begin to grow. "Oh, Mama, I've done something wrong. But I didn't mean any harm, I just didn't know. Now everyone is going to blame me, and it wasn't my fault."

Nick felt a sickening dread seep into his body. His muscles grew tight and his heart stopped beating. "Julie, what did you say to Sarah?"

Julie shrank back against her chair "I just told her she shouldn't let you be such a tyrant."

Nick's look became menacing. "What else did you say?"

"I just told her that if she wanted to go home for a visit she should go."

"You what?" Nick exploded.

Julie shrugged her shoulders and tried to gather her courage. "When she saw her brother's letter, she was desperate to return. I just told her I thought she should."

"You stole a letter from my desk and gave it to Sarah?"

"Well, it was her letter from her brother," Julie defended. "You had no right to keep it from her – "

"It's going to be all right," Mrs. Carlson's calm voice broke in. "Julie, you were wrong to take that letter no matter how noble your intentions were. But Nicholas, you are making far too much of this. Sarah hasn’t gone anywhere. And if you calm yourself, I'm sure you'll find the words to help her understand your reasons for keeping it from her. Sarah isn't a foolish girl, and once she knows the truth, I'm sure she'll agree with you. You can simply point out that her family wouldn't want her to come until things are more settled – "

"But you're wrong, Mama," Julie interrupted. "Sarah's brother is desperate to have her home again. His letter said so. That’s' why Sarah is so anxious to return."

Chris looked from Nick to his mother and back again. "I think you had better tell them everything."

Nick took a deep breath and tried to remain calm, but the gnawing fear in his stomach refused to be banished. "Sarah has been accused of witchcraft," he said slowly, watching their faces fill with disbelief. "My agent believes that Sarah's family might be behind the accusation."

"Dear God, but why?" Mrs. Carlson could not keep the horror from her voice.

Nick tried to stem the frantic beating of his heart. "With the death of her parents, Sarah inherited five hundred acres of prime land. Her stepbrother wants it back."

"Oh, no!" Julie carefully set down her wineglass, for her fingers had begun to shake too much to hold it. "But his letter . . ."

"Was probably meant to entice her home again," Chris said tightly. "And how do you tell someone who is aching to return home that her very family has betrayed her?"

Julie looked down the table at Nick and cringed, for every muscle in his face was etched with anger. "Nick, Sarah isn't at Agatha's old house," her voice trembled. "We didn't go shopping this afternoon like I said. We took a carriage and went to Jamestown." Nick jerked to his feet and took a menacing step forward. "She said she wanted to go home," Julie rushed on. "I didn't know it was going to be dangerous so I gave her the money for passage."

Nick's eyes grew wide. "You did
what
?"

Julie felt the tears slowly drip down her cheeks and hoped he noticed. "I gave her the fare. Sarah is on a ship called the
Good Providence
. It left for the Massachusetts Bay Colony this afternoon."

"Oh, my God," Chris gasped.

Julie took in the three angry faces that glared in her direction. Unable to bear their censure, she decided to escape in the way she knew best and, giving in to the terror of the situation, she fainted.

Ignoring her daughter's limp body, Mrs. Carlson rose from the table and went to Nick, taking his hand. "You have to do something, Nicholas," she said calmly. "You have to go and get Sarah back, for she doesn't know the danger she is in."

Nick struggled to maintain his temper. Sarah needed him and he needed a clear head. "The
Good Providence
is one of my own ships," he said ironically. "She's smooth on the waters, but not my fastest."

"Then let's go."

He turned to Chris as they entered the foyer. "This will not be a short venture."

Chris shrugged and reached for his hat. "My sister was directly to blame. If you'll agree to let Mother and Julie stay here where I know they shall be safe, I would be honored to sail at your side."

Nick nodded and placed a fleeting kiss on Mrs. Carlson's pale cheek. "Wadsworth will see to your needs, you have only to ask. And Julie – " His voice grew tight.

"Is in dire need of a good paddling," Mrs. Carlson interrupted. "And this time I shall see to it myself. Now off with you both. You have my prayers to find Sarah quickly."

"Then let us be off," Chris said, giving his mother a reassuring hug. "We've a ship to catch and a lady to rescue."

Chapter Twenty –Three

Sarah sat on her narrow bunk with her arms locked around her knees. "We did not make a good choice, Julie," she whispered to the empty cabin. " 'Tis a cargo ship on which I sail and I am the only passenger . . . the only woman." Weak with exhaustion, for she was too frightened to sleep, she struggled with memories from the past. Each dip and sway of the boat dredged forth the horrors of her last sea voyage. And although the captain had assured her she was free to move about on the deck, she had only to close her eyes to feel the ropes that had once bound her hands and feet. Twice, a knock had sounded at her door, making her heart pound in fright, but each time the cook had brought her food, her stomach had protested violently from the mere smell of it. A suffocating darkness threatened to consume her every time she closed her eyes, so she sat, watching the sway of the small lantern that hung from the beams overhead.

"What have I done, Nick?" she cried silently, for her tears were long since spent. She tried to think of her home in Salem, of how happy Samuel and Elizabeth would be to have her back. She tried to mentally list the chores that would command her attention. Would she weed her garden first or walk over to Samuel's to retrieve her cow and goat. His letter had said they were at his farm now so he could better care for them. She thought about sleeping in her own bed, but found no comfort, for, as always, her mind returned to Nick.

Sarah's head dropped to her knees. Was he relieved she had departed? Had he found the golden bracelet and her note of farewell? She remembered the way his dark eyes would dance in amusement when she misunderstood a local expression and how patient he had been in explaining. She could feel his arms about her and the gentle way he had held her . . . touched her. "How am I going to live without your smile?" she whispered brokenly.

"You won't ever have to."

Sarah's head snapped up. She hadn't heard the door to her cabin open, but the rich male voice was very real. Her eyes focused and her heartbeat tripled."Nick . . .?" her voice was hesitant, for in truth she had imagined him standing there too many times to count. "Are you real?"

His heart ached at the sight she presented, huddled in the corner of her bunk, clearly terrified of everything that was happening. Relief washed through him, then turned to anger that she had taken such a chance. "If you wish, madam, I would be more than happy to throw up your skirts and paddle your bare backside for pulling this ridiculous stunt. Then you'd know how very real I am."

She would have risen to meet him halfway, but she hadn't eaten since coming aboard and she was afraid she'd fall at his feet. She lifted her hand to beckoned him closer.

Nick needed no invitation as he dropped beside her on the bunk and pulled her roughly onto his lap. They stared at each other in wonder and then they were locked in an embrace. For long, satisfying minutes they rocked together. Nick pressed his face to her neck, feeling the silky softness of her hair brush against his cheek. She had always been of slight form, but now she felt positively frail within his arms and silently he cursed himself for the pain he had caused her.
Never again
, he vowed, pulling her closer still.

"I love you," he said against her hair. "I love you more than life itself. When I realized you had gone, it was as if a piece of me had been cut away."

Sarah luxuriated in the sound of his words. The words she had so longed to hear. Burrowed close against him she felt the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms. Her fingers touched the corded muscles of his neck and she felt the violent pounding of his heart against her breast. Her lips curved into a smile when she realized it matched her own.

"I love you, too," she whispered against his throat. "You bring the sunlight to my day and the smile to my heart, but how did you get here? How ever did you find me?

"Julie told us what she had done." As Sarah felt him shudder, her arms tightened about him.

"Don't be cross with Julie," she said gently. "She was trying so hard to help me." Reluctantly, Sarah pulled back so she could better see his face. "But how did you get here? We've been almost three days at sea?"

An ironic smile touched his lips. "You had the good sense to run away on one of my own ships," he said, placing light kisses across her forehead and reserving his judgment of Julie for another time. "I am the one who charted the course, so there was a hope we could overtake you. But when I think of all that could have gone wrong . . . You must promise me you'll never do this again."

Sarah smiled and shook her head. "I’m so sorry . . ." Nick placed a finger across her lips to still her words.

"I was wrong to think that you had tried to manipulate Gran, and I said things in anger that hurt you deeply. Now, I can only beg your forgiveness."

"You already have it." Sarah ran her trembling fingers across the troubled brow of her proud husband. "Nick, don't be angry with Agatha. Whatever she did, she did out of love."

Nick reached into his pocket and withdrew the water-stained letter. "Did you ever read this?" he questioned. "The letter Danvers handed to you right after we were wed?"

Sarah shook her head.

Nick opened the paper and placed it in her hand. "It's from Gran," he said quietly.

Sarah's eyes scanned the wrinkled paper, and her eyes welled with tears when she looked back up at Nick. "She wanted me to be your wife," she said in amazement.

Nick smiled. "Gran thought I was moving too slowly and decided to speed up the process. This was her way of forcing my hand."

Sarah looked down at her lap. "I know you didn't want to marry me, but . . ."

"Sarah Townsend Beaumont," he said, gently brushing strands of hair from her pale face. "Will you do me the honor of truly becoming my wife?"

For Sarah a ray of hope blossomed. "I would give you all the shares without marriage," she said solemnly.

Nick took a deep breath. "I know that now. But I find the only thing I truly want is to have you for my wife."

If she could have loved him more it would have been at that moment. Sarah reached up and her palm touched his unshaven cheek. "I love you." Her voice was soft, but clear. "Know that I will never lie to you. Although you won't always wish to hear it, my lips will never willingly tell you a falsehood."

He pressed a kiss to her palm, then gazed deep into her violet eyes. "But I must confess to a falsehood. The night of the storm, when I said I took you without love, I lied. You have been deep in my heart from the first moment I watched you pull the weeds from my garden. You are my wife, my heart, my soul." His voice quivered. "I want you in my life to share my life because I can't imagine living without you."

Sarah closed her eyes and pressed her body to the warmth of his. "I love you with every breath of my being," she said simply. When their lips met again, their kiss was flavored with the salt of her tears.

"No more of this," Nick chided gently, using his thumb to trace the pale skin under her eyes. "You're with me now and you're safe."

"Nick . . ." Sarah's voice trembled. "Would you take me home to see my family? I know it's far and I know you're busy. But my need to see them face-to-face is great. I want them to meet you, to see the man who has claimed my heart. Also, as my husband . . ." She tasted the word on her tongue. "As my husband, you would need to put your name on the land I own."

Nick thought of all the dangers that might await them, but the look on her face was one he could not deny. "If I agree," he said slowly, "it can only be for a day or two at most."

Sarah's eyes brightened. "I don't care if it's only for an hour," she sighed. "I just need to hug them both and let them know how happy I am so they will cease their worry."

Nick felt his heart constrict and wondered how he was ever going to tell her that they suspected her of witchcraft. "If we're going all the way to Salem," he challenged, "you are going to need to get your strength back."

Sarah flung her arms about his neck. "Thank you, thank you," she cried, scattering kisses about his face.

Nick's body ached to take her, but he knew he must wait. "The captain tells me you haven't been able to eat anything." His voice was tender, and Sarah felt a deep contentment wrap around her. "Have you been sick as well?"

She nodded slowly, ashamed to admit her weakness. Nick placed a kiss upon her brow and then rose from the bunk with her in his arms. "I'm taking you up on deck" he explained. "The fresh air will do you good, and once we get some food into you, you'll feel much better." Nick paused in the threshold of her cabin looking down at her and his eyes grew intense. "If I didn't think you would collapse, I'd take you here and now. But sometimes the deed is all the sweeter with the waiting." He placed a chaste kiss on her lips."

"You're a wicked man, Nicholas Beaumont," she said smiling.

"And tonight I'll prove that for sure, Mrs. Beaumont," he promised.

Up on deck, Sarah was relieved to find that Nick had been right. The motion of the ship seemed less pronounced and the fresh air revived her. She was delighted to find Chris aboard, then embarrassed to be the center of so much attention. Nick rarely left her side and she had only to look as if she was in need for someone to come to her aid. A pallet was made for her so she might sit in the sunlight and then a blanket appeared to cover her legs. She managed to eat a mug of soup, and was delighted when her stomach seemed pleased with the offering.

The sun slipped below the horizon and Nick carried her back to their cabin, but she was asleep before he could place her in the bunk. Undaunted, Nick eased the clothing from her body and then joined her under the covers in the narrow space. Pulling her close against him so her head rested on his shoulder, he marveled at the rightness of it all. "I've spent nights in passion and found not half the satisfaction I feel just to hold you in my arms," he whispered to her sleeping form. "It has always been difficult for me to let people get close to me, but I never realized how alone I was until you came and filled my life and then left me. If it was meant to be, so that I might have you, I know now that my lifetime of searching has been more than rewarded. Never will I turn from you. And when my time on earth is ended, yours shall be the name that comes with my last breath." His declaration complete, Nick closed his eyes and joined Sarah in sleep.

The days aboard the ship soon established a comfortable pattern. Sarah rested and under Nick's watchful eye, soon regained her strength. Long naps in the sun and constant food to tempt her appetite soon had the color back in her cheeks. But the nights of passion that she shared with Nick in their narrow bunk were the true reason for the smile that never left her lips.

More than a week had passed before Nick sat her down on a secluded part of the deck and, with Chris at his side, told her of the happenings in Salem. She had remained wide-eyed and silent. Her tears didn't start until he spoke of the death of her friend.

"But Rebecca was so frail," she sobbed against her husband's chest. "Why would anyone say such terrible things about one so pure of heart? How could they do that to a woman of God?"

Nick held her close as she cried, but his eyes met Chris's over her head. He had decided nothing could be gained by telling her Beckett's fears concerning her family and he was more than grateful when Chris agreed.

They had laid their plan carefully. Nick would get rooms for them in the ordinary while Chris traveled to the Village. Once there, he would entice Sarah's brother to return with him without mentioning Sarah's name. Sarah would have her meeting, then, with any luck, they would soon be back at sea.

They hand-selected men from the
Merry Weather
to join them on the
Good Providence
, while the captain of the
Merry Weather
was instructed to sail nearby but not to dock at Salem Harbor. If their plans went awry, his ship would be their backup. Information was passed in hushed whispers, and all but Sarah knew the plan.

On the last day of August, Salem Harbor came into view. Sarah hugged the rail as excitement raced through her. It seemed to take so long to cover the last bit of ocean and her patience threatened to snap as she watched the ship slowly maneuver itself closer to the dock.

Nick stood at her side on the quarterdeck as they waited for the ropes to be secured. Her face glowed with anticipation as she held his arm. Before them lay the confusion of the marketplace. Carts filled with oranges and apples stood between barrels of cargo. Local fishermen unloaded their day's catch, and the air about them grew ripe. Undaunted, Sarah's smile never wavered. She had pushed the news of Rebecca's death to the far corner of her mind and suddenly she couldn't wait to be home again. And now, when thoughts of spending the night in her own bed pressed forward, they brought a contented smile to her lips.

"Better be careful, madam," Nick said, taking her arm and indicating it was time for them to leave the ship. "If you continue to look at me like that, I shall postpone our departure until I can have my way with you below decks."

When they reached the boarding plank, Sarah turned to gaze at her husband. Her hand reached up to cover his heart. "I know you did not want to bring me here," she said quietly. "But that you would put my wants above your own . . ." Her voice shook with emotion, but she was determined not to cry on such a joyous occasion. "I will spend my life trying to think of ways to thank you."

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