Silver Tears (26 page)

He nuzzled her ear and whispered, “Let’s forget supper. I want to love you.”

“It’s too cold,” Alice said, shivering.

“I’ll make you warm.” He slid one hand between her thighs, and sure enough her temperature rose.

Alice leaned close, pressing her lips to his while her hands played over his chest. She was warming up quickly.

Chris smoothed more water over her breasts, then leaned down to lick it away. Alice shivered again, but not from the cold this time.

Chris looked up and whispered, “Hold very still. Don’t say a word.”

Alice froze, alerted to some danger nearby. She watched as Chris reached out to the bank and gripped his sharpened spear. A moment later Alice tumbled out of his lap and under the water as he lunged.

She came up sputtering and freezing once more. Her husband stood over her, grinning, a fat fish flopping on the end of his stick.

“You!” she cried. “You dumped me for a fish?”

“Not just any fish, our supper, darling. I’ll warm you and feed you, then I’ll love you.”

She smiled up at him shyly. “Will you pretend to be an Abenaki warrior again?”

He helped her up and kissed her hand. “Only if you’ll pretend to be a titled white woman I’ve taken in a raid.”

A little shiver ran through Alice’s whole body. “Your captive?”

“My prisoner of love,” he answered in a husky whisper, drawing her trembling form close to his own naked body.

Together, they dashed back up the bank. They wrapped themselves in warm blankets, then Alice laid a fire while Chris cleaned the fish. Soon they were snuggled close by the blaze as they watched their supper sizzle and brown on the spit.

Alice inhaled deeply. “Smells wonderful. I’m famished.”

“It won’t be long now,” Chris assured her.

“Darling, why didn’t you let me know you were coming for me?” Alice asked seriously.

“Castin had told me it would be better if I just showed up. He wasn’t sure what you’d do if you found out I was coming. He said you were bound and determined to stay with the tribe, that you refused to come back to me. I didn’t understand why—I still don’t.”

Alice poked at the fire with a stick. “I’m not sure I do, either. The night I was kidnapped, I wanted nothing more than to be with you. But Scarappi told me terrible things. He said you’d left me alone so that he could sneak in and take me. He said you’d had Ishani, and by Indian custom he was entitled to have me and that you knew and accepted that.”

“That’s outrageous!”

She looked up at her husband. “A lot of things have seemed outrageous to me. This was no more outlandish than most. How was I to know?”

“You know me! How could you think I’d be a party to such a thing?”

“You were a party to the three-feathers trick.” Alice had meant to keep to herself all that she’d heard in the village about Chris’s last visit there for the baron’s marriage, but now the words came tumbling out. “Why, even after we were married, you shared a tent with Ishani. Everyone at the village was still talking about it.”

“Alice, please, let me explain about that.”

But just then realization dawned. Alice turned to stare hard at her husband. “She knew, didn’t she?” Alice asked. “Ishani knew you were coming to the village last night. That’s why she offered to take my place in the tent and bed with the visitor.” She uttered a humorless laugh. “I thought she was being nice to me, helping me escape. All the while she was plotting to steal you away from me.

Chris nodded slowly. “I’m afraid you’re right. Not only that, but she had told Scarappi of her plan so that he could recapture you the minute you fled the tent and have his way at last.”

“Oh!” Alice cried. “And they almost got away with it. I saw Ishani coming toward the tent.”

“The baron stopped her. You probably won’t believe me, Alice, but it was his idea that I not tell you who I was. Of course, the blame is all mine. I went along with his suggestion. Can you ever forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “What about you and Ishani? Will I have to deal with her for the rest of my life?”

Chris took her hands in his and turned her to face him. “Look at me,” he said gently. “I want you to see my eyes when I tell you this so that, once and for all, you’ll believe me. I have never made love to Ishani. And I never could have once I met you, Alice. The moment I saw you, I knew there could be only one woman in my life. Yes, I went to a tent with Ishani that night at the village, but I slipped out and headed home to you as fast as my horse would carry me. Nothing happened between us. I swear it!”

Alice watched his green eyes as he spoke. Either he was telling her the truth or he was the finest actor on this side of the ocean. “I believe you,” she whispered at last.

Chris pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. “Ah, love, you don’t know how good that makes me feel. Now we can start over. Just you and me and a whole new life ahead of us.”

He stopped, seeing the flames flare and hearing the fish sizzle loudly.

“Our supper!” Chris shouted, leaping to his feet to rescue their flaming pike.

Only the skin was burned. Inside the delicate flesh was white and flaky and delicious. Alice finished all of hers and licked the juices from her fingers. After they ate, they sat together, cuddled up under a blanket, watching the moon rise through the tall pines. They both felt too contented to talk. Finally Chris broke the comfortable silence.

“Alice, do you still want to search for Norumbega?”

She turned a surprised gaze on him. “I thought you said it was only a legend, a mythical place that can’t be found because it doesn’t exist.”

“Lord Geoffrey’s land is. That’s not even a real map of Maine. But Norumbega does exist as a state of mind—a happy place where all your dreams can come true. Lord Geoffrey was hornswoggled into buying nonexistent property, supposedly covered with crystal palaces where all the streets were paved with gold. My idea of Norumbega is far different, but just as pleasing.” He reached into his pack and drew out a folded paper, handing it to Alice. “Here, darling, this is for you… for us. Our own Norumbega.”

Alice could hardly believe her eyes when she read the deed. “A lot on Green Lane in Boston? Is this real, Chris?” she cried excitedly.

“Real and being built upon even as I speak, darling. You’ve had enough of the wilds. I’m taking you to Boston.”

Alice’s excitement faded at his choice of words. “You mean I’ll live there while you return to Maine? No, Chris, I won’t do that. Wherever you are is where I want to be.”

He pulled her into his arms. “No, silly woman! Of course I’ll live there with you. I’ve already told the commandant of the fort to find himself another negotiator, and I’ve explained to the baron my reasons for going. He understood. We’ll go back to Fort Majabigwaduce long enough for you to say good-bye to Pegeen and collect your things. Then we’re off to civilization. Christopher Gunn, Esquire, and Goodwife Alice. What do you think of that?”

She lunged at him, nearly knocking him over with her exuberant delight. “Darling, I’m so happy! I can hardly wait to see our new home, to begin our new life. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful.”

Chris was careful to hide his doubts from Alice. He’d been a long time in the wilderness. Returning to civilization was not going to be easy for him. However, for Alice he was willing to give it a try.

“We’ll be on the same street with Mary and Will,” Alice mused delightedly.

“Right next door,” Chris told her. “And now that Sir William’s the governor of the province, we’ll be in the very thick of all social activities.”

Alice frowned and reached up to stroke her husband’s wild, red beard. “Darling, you’ll shave, won’t you?”

Chris groaned. “Shave and bathe and dress like a proper dandy, my love. All for you.”

“You’re sweet.” Alice sighed, snuggling closer, closing her eyes and dreaming of her new life ahead.

Chris’s arms closed around her, and he pulled her to his chest, scraping his whiskers across her cheek. “But right now, woman, I’m still your great savage… your Abenaki warrior who’s just taken you prisoner in a raid. Now I have to decide on what to do with you.”

Alice shrank away from him, feigning fear. “You won’t hurt me?”

He chuckled. “Maybe I’ll just turn over and take a nap and let you escape so I can hunt you down in the woods.”

Alice glanced about her. “Oh, no! It’s dark. I’m not traipsing through any woods at night alone.”

He frowned at her fiercely. “Is that any way for a captive to act? Certainly you’d try to run away instead of submitting meekly to this heathen male animal.” He bellowed loudly and pounded his chest, then yawned and stretched out on the ground.

She grinned at him. “My dear heathen, if you’re going to take a nap, then you’d better tie me up so I don’t escape.” She thrust her wrists toward him.

“Whose game is this, woman? I say, you try to escape.” He gave her bottom a sharp smack. “Get going now. I won’t let you get far.”

Alice rose to her feet, hugging her Abenaki robe about her. “I won’t go far. It’s scary out there. What if I meet a bear?”

“Just go,” he ordered.

Alice slipped out of the circle of light from their campfire and hid behind the first available pine tree. After a few moments Chris rose, stretched, and growled, “Damn, she’s run off. Now she’s in for it. When I catch her, I’ll… ” He bellowed fiercely again.

Chris crashed into the woods, making so much noise he would have scared away any bear in the vicinity. When Alice heard him go deeper into the pine forest, she slipped back to the campfire. She stretched out and moments later she was sound asleep.

After nearly a half hour of searching, Chris was beginning to get worried. Where the hell had she gone? If anything happened to her, it was all his fault. It was all his stupid idea. He trudged on, calling her name.

“I give up, Alice. Come out. I mean it. You really might run into a bear. Come on, darling. Enough is enough.”

When she didn’t answer, he truly panicked. He stumbled back toward the camp, breathing heavily. He’d get his horse and range farther afield. If she had run into some wild animal, she might be injured out there in the dark.

The moment he entered the clearing, his heart slowed to a less frantic beat.

“Blast her!” he said, grinning with relief. “She double-crossed me, sent me off on a wild-
honck
chase.”

He strode over to where Alice lay sleeping and jerked the robe away. Her eyes flew open, staring up at his magnificent, naked form.

“Now you’re in for it, white woman!”

She was indeed, and she loved every minute of it.

“
Close your eyes when I tell you, Alice. I want to surprise you.”

She nodded, never intending for a moment to do as Chris ordered.

Their boat had arrived from the north less than two hours earlier. Now the Gunns sat side by side in an open cart Chris had hired at the docks. The back of the rickety wagon was piled high with all their earthly belongings—everything from Chris’s cabin in Maine and all the beautiful furnishings, silver, crystal, and antique tapestries Alice had brought with her from England.

As the wagon bounced along, Alice kept a firm grip on Pegeen’s farewell gift to her, a six-toed Maine Coon cat, so called because the odd, long-haired felines were thought to be the offspring of mousers brought over on British vessels who had crossbred with the wild raccoons of the Maine woods. The excited, coal-black kitten squirmed and hissed to be free.

“Be still, Ollav,” Alice ordered, trying to pry loose the claws that were threatening to shred her arm.

Chris gave a derisive snort. “It’s bad enough that you had to bring that ill-tempered creature along. Did you have to name him after the most illustrious forebear of Clan Gunn?”

Alice finally got a good grip on her black bundle and held him up to peer into his yellow eyes. “He’s a handsome kitty. I’m sure Ollav the Black would be proud to have such a beautiful animal bear his name.”

“Ollav the Black hated cats,” Chris declared with authority.

“And just how would you know that? You told me yourself that he died way back in 1237.”

Chris grinned at her and tugged at the kitten’s whiskers. “Because all men in the Gunn family inherited three things from old Ollav: good looks, a love of beautiful women, and a hatred for cats.”

“Well, I’ll go along with one of your inherited traits, my darling.” She laughed. Gunn didn’t bother to ask which one.

Summer rains had turned the streets of the town into one giant quagmire. The going was slow. Ollav settled down in his mistress’s lap for a snooze. Alice and Chris fell silent, weary from their trip and anxious to be home at last. Finally they reached their destination, or almost.

“Close your eyes now,” Gunn repeated.

“Oh, Chris, I don’t want to close my eyes,” Alice wailed. “I want to see my new house right now.”

He laughed. “It won’t be long, darling. Please, let me surprise you.”

“Very well,” Alice replied, lowering her lids, but leaving a tiny crack so she could still see well enough.

“You’re cheating,” Chris complained. “Shut them tight.”

Sighing, Alice did as ordered. Chris had told her that their new home was being built right next door to the Phipses’ house, but that was all he would tell her. He’d mentioned a great fire back in 1676 that destroyed every wooden structure in Boston save one dwelling on North Square, so she assumed her house would be made of brick. But how many rooms? How many fireplaces? What sort of kitchen? Was there a nursery? All her questions had gone unanswered. He had refused to give her even a clue, and as she sat very still with her eyes tightly shut, the tension and excitement built within her until it was almost unbearable.

“How much longer, Chris?” she begged.

“You can open them now.”

Immediately, Alice’s eyes sprang open and what she beheld made her heart swell with joy and love. The two-story brick dwelling was every bit as fine as Mary and Will’s. The casement windows of leaded glass glittered like the mythical gold of Norumbega in the afternoon sun. Her new home was large and comfortable and absolutely wonderful.

The yard, unfortunately, was as muddy as the rest of Boston, but planks had been laid from the road to the front stoop. They would be able to get in safely, tracking in a minimal amount of muck along with them.

Alice glanced to the right. The shaded area at the side of the Phipses’ house adjoined a copse of trees on the Gunns’ property. Alice could imagine quiet twilights spent with their friends in the communal garden. And the children can play there, she reminded herself, smiling.

“Are you coming in, or do you plan to sit here and stare at it all day?” Chris asked.

Alice started to jump down from the wagon to run inside, but Chris caught her—cat and all—in his arms. “I think it’s high time I carried my bride over the threshold. We wouldn’t want bad luck to befall us, now would we, darling?”

She hugged his neck tightly. “Oh, Chris, what bad luck could touch us in such a wonderful house?”

Ollav hissed threateningly as they squeezed him between them in a sudden, exuberant embrace.

Alice was slightly disappointed when she saw the unfinished interior until Chris explained his plan. “Considering the talent you showed for fixing up my cabin, I figured I’d wait until you arrived to choose colors and such. Some fine European wallpaper was to arrive in the spring shipment. I told Will to have samples brought over. He probably put them in the dining room. You can decide what you’d like from those.”

Alice dashed through the spacious front parlor toward the room behind it that she knew must be their formal dining room. Chris followed her, laughing, thinking how well he had invested and then spent his inheritance.

“Not now, darling. You can make your choices later,” he said. “Don’t you want to see upstairs first?”

Several hours later all their trunks and barrels were inside. Alice, having almost had her fill of wandering from room to room, exploring and admiring, stood in their bedroom looking down to the sea of mud that would in time, she imagined, bloom with flowers and green with grass.

“Ready for bed, darling?” Chris finished off the last of the bread, cheese, and wine he’d purchased for their supper and climbed into the new oak four-poster he’d made for his bride.

“I think I’ll have the painter mix oxblood with the whitewash for the front parlor, Chris. Or would that be too dark? Perhaps, whitewash first, then dab over it with the oxblood in a sponge. I’ve seen that done—it’s quite nice.”

“My dear wife, we don’t have to decide everything tonight. Come over here. Let’s try out our new bed.”

She turned toward him, a smile on her face. “Don’t you ever get tired, darling?”

He grinned at her and winked. “No. Not of you. Besides, we have a lot of lonely nights to make up for.”

Alice came to the bed and leaned over to place a slow, sweet kiss on his lips. “I’m more than willing, darling, but first we’d better go pay a call on Will and Mary. We haven’t even said hello to them yet. What will they think of their new neighbors?”

Chris groaned. Alice’s kiss had only made his need more urgent. The last thing he wanted right now was to pay a social call. “They aren’t home, Alice. I noticed earlier when I was hauling things in that their carriage was still gone.”

“No. I just heard it come up the lane. Please, Chris,” Alice begged, “we’ll just pop over and let them know we’ve arrived. Then we’ll come home and… ” Her gaze went to the bed and she smiled.

Chris was already getting up. He reached for his britches, only to find Ollav comfortably nestled in them. “Shoo, damn cat!”

Ollav hissed and growled, then prowled over to his mistress and rubbed his long tail against her skirt. She picked him up and scritched his ears. His growl turned to a purr.

“Chris, you must learn to be nice to him.”

“I’m just trying to let the blasted beast know who wears the pants in this family.” He pulled on his britches, brushing off the dark hairs. “All right, darling. We’ll go see Mary and Will, if you must.”

The Phipses would have taken Chris’s side in the question of whether or not to visit so late. It had been a long, hot, unsettling day.

As governor of Massachusetts, Sir William presently found himself with a distasteful problem on his hands. To Mary, the horror of it all seemed much more personal. They had both spent the entire day in the stuffy, crowded courtroom of the Salem Meeting House.

Mary slumped into a chair and dragged her bonnet off the moment they reached home. “What’s to become of those women,” she murmured, “and poor Reverend Burroughs as well?”

Will poured himself a brandy and took the seat beside her, stroking her hand. “It’s a nasty business, Mary. I’ve heard tales all my life of Margaret Jones’s execution for witchcraft back in ’48. I’d never have believed that such a thing could happen again in this day and age. When that Carib Indian slave, Tituba, saved herself by confessing last year, I hoped that might put an end to it. But her confession simply fanned the flames. Now it’s like a wildfire that’s suddenly taken hold in Salem Village and is spreading through all of Massachusetts. I’m afraid there will be many more hangings before we can put an end to this mass hysteria.”

Mary wept softly, dabbing at her eyes. “That poor little child, Dorcas Good. My heart went out to her.” She glanced up at her husband. “She’s only four years old, Will. How can they possibly think she’s in league with the devil?”

Will shook his head. “Sarah Good’s her mother,” he lamely explained. “Daughters of convicted witches have always been suspect.”

“But to throw her into jail, why, it’s simply unthinkable, unchristian.” She gave her husband a hard look. “You’re the governor now, Will. Can’t you simply say
enough
and disband the courts?”

“With people like that fanatical Reverend Mather leading the pack?” Will shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not, my dear. I have power over the military and the colonial government, but these trials come under the jurisdiction of the church. The only way I’ll be able to control this is to sail back to England and get an edict directly from the king.”

“But that could take months!” Mary cried. “Dozens of victims could die unjustly before then.”

“I assume you’re referring to the accused witches rather than the witches’ victims,” Will said dryly.

Mary came out of her chair, furious. “William, certainly you’re not telling me that you actually believe in all this ‘evil hand’ business. Most of the accusers I’ve seen are silly young girls, bored with their dull lives, and frustrated because they don’t dare take a tumble in the hayloft with a fellow for fear Reverend Mather’s vengeful Puritan God will strike them down. They’ve nothing better to amuse themselves these long, hot summer days than feigning fits and pointing fingers at their neighbors. Find them husbands to keep them happy and bearing a child a year, and then they’ll have little time to go about crying witch.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Mary dear. I didn’t mean that I believe any of this. However, my disbelief in witchcraft will do little to put an end to the trials. I must speak with the king as soon as possible.”

Mary felt terribly downcast realizing Will would have to leave her again, but she was determined not to let her husband know. So many of their married years they had been apart while he went on his treasure hunts or off to distant places on official business. Even now he was back only recently from Maine. Once more she would be forced to do without him for the good of all. She knew it was his duty to go and her duty to send him off without any argument. Still, the pang in her heart was great.

Will was snuffing out the candles, preparing to go to bed, when the knock came at their door. He and Mary exchanged worried glances. Had some neighbor pointed an accusing finger at one of them? Often, they knew, when the judges and the minister came to make an arrest on charges of witchcraft, the dreaded confrontation took place at a late hour.

“Don’t fret, Mary,” Will said, sensing his wife’s terror. “They’d never dare accuse either of us.”

“You’re right, of course, darling. Still, I did have a few sharp words for Hannah Webster’s impudent daughter yesterday. She’s always been such a spoiled child. She was rude to me so I put her in her place for once.” Mary laughed nervously, nodding for her husband to open the door.

He hesitated, frowning as he lifted the latch. Accusations of witchcraft had been leveled for lesser infractions. At the sight of Alice and Christopher, their tension quickly eased.

“My land!” Mary cried, opening her arms wide to pull Alice to her ample bosom. “What a wonderful surprise this is!”

The two women hugged and laughed while the men shook hands, then poured wine.

“Chris, I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you here,” Will confided. “I hadn’t expected you for weeks yet. But I’m awfully glad you’ve come just now.”

“You sound worried, Will.”

“I am. There’s trouble in Salem, spreading fast. I have to sail for England in a few days. I’ll feel so much better not having to leave Mary all alone.”

“You must mean the witch trials,” Chris said quietly. “I’ve been trying to keep all that from Alice, but I suppose she’s bound to hear now that we’re in the very midst of it. You know about her mother, of course.”

Will’s frown deepened. “Yes, but I’d long forgotten all about that. I heard the story from Jonathan Hargrave right after Alice arrived at the fort. He told me an outlandish tale about Alice threatening him with a curse one instant and a nearly fatal bullet striking him in the next.”

“That bastard!” Gunn fumed. “You mean he actually accused Alice of being a witch?”

“No, no,” Will replied. “He was merely pointing out the odd coincidence of the thing. Say, did you hear that Hargrave took himself a wife? She’s a woman he fell in love with years ago, I hear. It’s quite romantic, don’t you think? All this time apart and now they’ve found each other again.”

“Thank God for small favors! He’s still in England, I hope.”

“No,” Will said. “He’s bringing his bride back to America. They should arrive here in Boston any day. She’s three times widowed with twelve children by her various spouses. Jon thinks the sons and daughters will be better off here, where they have more space to grow.”

Chris groaned. “Can’t you put him on one of your ships bound for India?”

Will laughed and slapped Chris on the back. “My boy, don’t tell me you’re still unsure of your marriage. Believe me, there was never anything between your Alice and Jonathan Hargrave.”

“There was at least one kiss,” Gunn replied. “I saw it with my own eyes, and that’s one too many for me.”

“I’m sure you have nothing to fear, Chris. Even if Alice were remotely interested, I hear Prudence Hargrave is a straitlaced woman, well equipped to keep any straying husband in line.”