Eternal Love: The Immortal Witch Series Page 14

  “I didn’t speak of it to you at the time,” Elias said slowly. “But I wrote to a man in England about her. A famous witch-hunter. And now, at last, I have his reply.” This as he tugged a folded sheet of vellum from within his coat. “He believes all the signs are there, Duncan. He says she’s dangerous and that we ought to exercise extreme caution, that she could destroy us all! Read it for yourself!” He thrust the letter at Duncan.

  Duncan recoiled from the sheet as if its very touch could burn him. “Nay, I’ve no need to read the words of a man like that. How can he judge and condemn a woman from across the sea, Elias? Think on this! He hasna even met her.”

  “A man with his experience has no need. Besides, he will. He’s on his way here. Could arrive within a fortnight. Perhaps sooner. Then we’ll see—”

  Duncan surged to his feet. “You’re bringin’ a witch-hunter here? To Sanctuary? Good God, Elias, do you know what you’ve done?”

  Elias rose very slowly, staring hard at Duncan from head to toe. “I see. I guessed it long ago, but I doubted my own instincts. Now, though, I see it clear. All those nights you spend out there, on the pretense of spying on those women. She’s got to you, too. Hasn’t she, Reverend? Hasn’t she?”

  Duncan averted his eyes. “Dinna be a fool.”

  “Have you fallen even further than I? Has she lifted her skirts for you already? Have you been sampling her tender—”

  Duncan lashed out, unable and utterly unwilling to restrain himself. His fist connected with Elias’s face, and the man reeled backward, over the bench and onto the floor behind it.

  “You dare!” Elias blustered, clutching his nose as blood ran from beneath his hand.

  Duncan gripped the front of the man’s shirt and lifted him to his feet. “Raven St. James is a fine and decent woman. I’ll nay have you sullyin’ her name, nor causin’ her harm on account of your own rampant lust, Elias Stanton. You’re a ruttin’ pig of a man, with a mind so bent on the carnal there isna room for reason nor decency left in you anymore.”

  Elias stepped back and Duncan let him go.

  “Leave her alone,” he told the bastard. “I’m warnin’ you, Elias, leave her alone.”

  Elias sniffed, rubbed his nose again, and examined the blood on his fingertips. “I’ll forgive you, Reverend. Only because I know the power of her spells on a man. She’s obviously worked them on you as well. But she’ll get what’s coming to her. And I've half a mind to set the wheels in motion now, myself, rather than wait for the witch-hunter’s arrival as he advises in his letter. What more evidence do we need, after all?”

  “Do you spread any more of this malicious gossip, Elias, I’ll kill you myself.”

  The man’s eyes widened, and he took a hasty step away. “You? A man of God, threatening murder?”

  “Murder is what you have in mind for Raven. Dinna try to deny it.”

  Elias narrowed his eyes. “Raven, is it? I knew—”

  “You know nothing. She’s the innocent here. You’re the sinner, Elias. As the leader of this church ‘Tis my duty to protect the flock from lechers like you.”

  Lowering his head, Elias shook it slowly. “You make me wonder, Reverend, whether she has enchanted you at all...or if perhaps you’ve been in league with her all along. Mayhap you be a witch as well.”

  “Get out!” Duncan lifted a hand that shook with barely contained rage, and pointed toward the door. “Get out of my church. You soil it with your very presence.”

  Nodding twice, Elias turned and walked away.

  Duncan released all his breath at once and sank onto the bench. Damn! Elias was dangerous, and this witch-hunter, whoever he was, likely even more so. How many of the women in this town might be falsely accused, even executed, now that Elias had started this disaster? How many? Elias Stanton may well have lit a wildfire in Sanctuary that would spread until it consumed the entire settlement.

  But it wouldn’t consume Raven. Nay, not if it cost Duncan’s life to prevent it.

  He had to get to Raven, had to speak to her. She must leave this place, now. Right away.

  But even now the parishioners were arriving for the service. God, there was no time. Afterward, then. He wouldd go to her tonight and he would make her understand the danger she faced here. He would take the lass away from this place if he had to sling her over his shoulder and carry her all the way. Aye, he would!

  He closed his eyes slowly and prayed to his God to watch over her in the meantime.

  * * * *

  After the Sunday meeting, I lingered. Arianna did not. She put on a good show, acting prim and pious in her humble, dark skirts, white cap always in place, hair discreetly tucked beneath it. But she hated the Sunday meetings, the townspeople with their false smiles and friendly words when all the while they were whispering their suspicions to one another in private. And as usual, she left as soon as possible. She always did, even if it meant walking all the way back to the cabin. But I was feeling generous today, so I told her to take the wagon. I would walk home this time, if she couldn’t wait to leave.

  I was quite the opposite in my feelings about the Sunday meetings. Oh, the make-believe friendship of those backbiting locals riled me every bit as much as it did Arianna. But for me there was reason to stay. I’d grown to cherish every moment I could spend near Duncan, even those moments when we had to pretend there was nothing between us, for he would shower love on me all the same—in a single glance sent my way and filled with fire, even as he spoke to one crowd of parishioners and I to another. In an accidental touch. In the very way his voice changed when he spoke to me. I knew I was always on his mind, in his thoughts, just as he lingered constantly in mine.

  There were, of course, unpleasant experiences awaiting me each time I attended services. For Elias Stanton tended to pay nearly as much mind to me as Duncan did. Only his glances were dirty somehow, leaving me feeling stained when I chanced to meet his lecherous gaze, and even more so when he touched me “accidentally,” which happened more and more often.

  I was blessed today, though, because Elias did not attend services. Aunt Eleanor, too, had stayed at home, having awoken this morn with a crushing headache that kept her abed. And since Arianna had already gone with our wagon, I was to walk back to the cabin alone. Not that I minded. I was, in fact, looking forward to the walk, for the leaves were turning and beautiful, and Duncan was on my mind.

  He’d tried several times to speak with me, and there was a new urgency in his eyes when they caught mine, but each time he’d been swept away by someone else begging a word or asking advice. No matter. He would come to me tonight. In the forest, beneath the stars, we would make tender love. I would spend my walk home dreaming of the evening to come.

  It did not turn out that way at all.

  I’d trekked only halfway, walking slowly along the worn track, singing to myself, bursting with the joy of the changing seasons, the scent of the autumn leaves and the sea at my side. But I was jolted out of my pleasure at the sound of a horse’s clopping gait, and the rattling of the wagon it pulled. And when I turned, expecting to see Duncan coming to see me home, I caught my breath. For ‘twas Elias Stanton manning the reins. He looked ragged, and there was a vacant look to his eyes that chilled me.

  “Good morn, Mistress St. James,” he called, drawing the rig to a halt right beside me.

  “Good morn,” I replied, my voice stiff. “We missed you at the meeting hall this morn.” I hadn’t missed him at all, but ‘twas something to say.

  “I had some thinking to do,” he said. “Thinking...that was best done alone.”

  Something quivered inside me. Some sense of danger. I kept walking. But he snapped the reins to keep pace.

  “I be on my way to call on your aunt,” he announced, as if I might care where he were going.

  “How thoughtful of you.”

  “Perhaps you’d care to ride the rest of the way in comfort, rather than taxing yourself by walking?”

  I met his eyes, cold and men
acing, revealing the lie of his voice, and I gave a quick shake of my head. “I thank you, sir, but I am enjoying my walk too much to end it so soon.”

  “Nonsense,” he said. “A woman walking alone is unsafe. Come, ride with me.”

  “I walk this way often and never see another soul, Master Stanton. I assure you, I’m perfectly safe.”

  Grunting deep in his throat, he stopped the wagon again, only this time he climbed down. Walking toward the horse, he took its halter in one hand. “I’ll walk with you, then. Lord forbid some harm befall you while I ride safely away, unaware.”

  I lowered my head as my stomach clenched tight. “I prefer to walk alone.” I blurted it, not softening the words or the tone in any way. There should be no mistake, I thought. I did not wish to walk with this man.

  He understood all right, for his face darkened. He released the horse, and turned fully toward me. The attentions of a man offend you, do they?”

  I did not know what to say. “You are a married man, Master Stanton. Surely you should not speak to me in such a way.”

  “Married, yes, and pious to a fault, but still subjected to the charms of a sorceress. Just as our preacher seems to be.”

  “I know nothing of sorcery! And the Reverend Wallace has never been anything but kind and perfectly polite toward me.”

  “That is not what I see in his eyes when they meet your own, lady. No. I see lust. The same lust that rears up in my own heart with each toss of your head.”

  “You’re being ridiculous!” I backed away, but he caught my wrists in his cruel hands.

  “I know of but one means to rid myself of your allure, Raven. And that is to sate this lust once and for all.”

  “Let go of me! Have you gone insane? Let me go!”

  “No, mistress. I won’t let you go.”

  He jerked me closer and mashed his face to mine. His mouth open and wet, his tongue lapping at my lips though I pressed them tight. I pulled backward, but he clung to me, held me fast to his body so that as I moved he moved as well, until my back was pressed to the trunk of a tree, and his flaccid body held me pinned there. I struggled frantically, but his perverted desire had caused him to have an overpowering strength, and I could not free myself, despite my own enhanced witchly strength. He groped at the front of my dress, pawed at my breasts.

  “Stop fighting, wench! You’ve brought this on yourself—visiting me in my dreams nightly as you do, tempting me to sin. I no longer rest at night. I cannot eat by day. You’re draining the very life from me, woman, and now you’ll pay!”

  I had to stop him or be raped. The knowledge came clear to me just that quickly. I had no choice in the matter, and since I couldn’t reach my dagger, I knew only one way. But it would take all of my focus.

  Calm. I willed myself to go utterly calm. Forced my body to relax, and my mind to ignore what he was doing to me. I went inside myself, deep inside, to a place where his grunting and groping did not exist—as if they were happening to someone else and I was but a witness.

  Closing my eyes, I whispered, chanted to Mother Earth, attuned to her, felt her strength beneath me and behind me and around me and, finally, surging from within me. I drew her energy up from the ground, centered that power until it thrummed in my veins, and then opened my eyes to find a focus for it.

  The limb, above Elias Stanton’s head.

  With a shout of release, I sent the power shooting forth, and the limb cracked and split. It crashed down, smiting the man and knocking him to his knees, and then flat to the ground, with the limb heavy atop him. He did not move.

  I had no wish to stay to see whether he was dead or alive. I ran, leaping into his wagon and snapping the reins hard. His horse reared up and raced forward, and in moments the brute was behind me, and my home, my haven, loomed ahead.

  Arianna was waiting when I arrived. She stared at me as I wheeled the wagon to a stop. Then her face paled, and she ran forward even as I tried to climb down.

  “Sweet Mother, what's happened!”

  She gathered me gently into her arms, helping me down. And only as she stared aghast did I realize my dress was torn, my hair askew, my face hot and damp.

  “This is Elias Stanton’s rig,” Arianna all but hissed. “He did this, didn’t he? Raven?”

  Trembling, beyond words, I merely nodded.

  “I'll kill him.” And even as she said it, her dagger appeared in her hand. “Where is he? I’ll cut out his liver!”

  And finally coherent thought returned. Pushing my hair out of my face, head bowed, I said, “No, Arianna. Wait.”

  “For what?” Her face had reddened clear to her ears. “Did he rape you, Raven? Did he—”

  “No. I’m...I’m all right. But Arianna, we mustn’t speak of this. Not to anyone.”

  “And what should we do? Keep quiet and wait for that beast to try again?”

  Drawing a deep steadying breath, I shook my head. “We should take the rig back into town. We should say the horse brought it in with no one inside, and that we’re concerned about Elias. They’ll send men out looking, and they’ll find him in the woods, beneath a fallen limb. Alive...or, I think he was, when I left him there.”

  She scowled at me so intently I felt her anger washing over me. “So we cover for him, lie for him?”

  “No, Arianna. For us. You know what they think of me in this town. No one would accept my word over his. Let them believe it an accident.” Again, I glanced down at my dress. “Aunt Eleanor mustn’t see me like this.”

  Lowering her head, Arianna blew a sigh. “Here, take my cloak.” And she removed the cloak from her shoulders to cover mine, then gently smoothed my hair. "I'll do as you ask. But I still think he deserves to be drawn and quartered.”

  “He accused me of bewitching him,” I muttered. “Of visiting him in dreams and driving him to...to this.”

  “His own lechery has driven him. Nothing more.” She shook her head, eyeing the rig. “I'll bring Duncan.”

  “He must never know of this, Arianna. Please, don’t tell him. He’d kill Elias, I know he would.”

  “The man needs killing.”

  “Please....”

  She sighed, lowering her head. “You ask a lot of me, my friend.”

  “I know.” I lifted my head. “Have I told you how grateful I am that you came to me, Arianna? I haven’t, have I? But I should. You...you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  She blinked, looking away as if slightly irritated. “I would die for you, you know.”

  I frowned, confused by the power in that simple statement. “But why?”

  She shrugged. “You did for me once.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  Meeting my eyes, smiling gently, she said, “Perhaps it’s time I told you the truth, Raven. You have this gift, this immortality, because in some previous life you died while trying to save the life of another witch.”

  “I understand that, but—”

  “That witch was me.”

  And before I could say another word, she leaped into Elias Stanton’s wagon and snapped the reins.

  * * * *

  There had been no love lost between Duncan and the mysterious, mischievous-eyed pixie who seemed to have become Raven’s closest friend. They were polite to each other, but cool, and he sensed the smaller woman’s disapproval. Understood it, even.

  But when he saw Arianna driving Elias Stanton’s rig into town that morn, her face expressionless and pale, he immediately felt his stomach tie in knots. He’d been steadily working to free himself of the people who seemed determined to have a word with him—and only now had he succeeded. He’d been about to start out to Raven’s cottage on the cliffs.

  The pace at which the wagon moved was enough to tell him something was wrong. Terribly wrong. When it stopped in a cloud of dust, Duncan joined the crowd gathering around Arianna, but her eyes were on him alone, and he sensed a silent message in them.

  “Master Stanton’s horse and rig arrived at our cabin wi
th no driver,” she said, calmly, as slowly as if she’d rehearsed her words. “We’re concerned about his safety.” She climbed down with grace, nimble as a sprite, ignoring all the shouted questions. “Perhaps some of you might wish to travel the Coast Road and search for him,” she suggested.

  Several men immediately shouted agreement and as they gathered and began making their plan, Duncan took Arianna aside. “What has truly happened?” he asked.

  She averted her eyes. “Nothing good, Duncan. But I can say no more. I gave my promise to Raven, and I’ll not break my word to her.”

  “Is she all right?” He nearly held his breath awaiting her answer.

  “She’s unharmed.” Finally she met his eyes again, and he saw the concern there for her friend. “I’d have stayed with her myself and let that animal Elias rot. But it is you she needs, Duncan. Go to her.”

  He nodded quickly. Let the others search for Elias. He needed to see Raven, to assure himself she was well, and find out what this was all about. And then he had to take steps to get her away from here, to somewhere safe.

  What the hell had happened out there? God, he knew she’d been walking alone. But he hadn’t seen her leave, and by the time he realized she’d gone it had been too late to prevent it. He should have gone after her, right then. Should have escorted her home, and to hell with what the town gossips would make of that. Damn Elias to hell if he’d touched her, frightened her in any way. He would kill the bastard. He would kill him with his bare hands.

  “Come,” he said to Arianna through clenched teeth. “We’ll go together.” They were not friends, nay, yet he still would not like the thought of her alone in this town should something rile the locals—should something turn them against her.

  “I think I should linger in town. See what the vermin has to say when they find him. If he’s still alive, that is.” Her frown was worried, more now than ever. And Duncan knew too well that Elias might speak his suspicions about her and Raven if he’d been provoked.