The double doors at the mansion flew open almost as soon as she had applied the big brass eagle knocker. A dignified, dark-skinned man in purple livery regarded her impassively.
"Are you the Master White who is in charge here?"
"I am the majordomo of this establishment."
Fiona drew the black cord from around her neck and held out the doubloon on her palm, words tumbling swiftly, one after the other. "My name is Fiona Prescott and I met the governor at sea not long ago when we traveled from England. He gave me this coin as a souvenir of the voyage and told me to call on him if I ever needed his help."
She inhaled deeply. "Now, I need help desperately. Mr. White, life and death are in the balance. Will you please ask Sir William to grant me an audience when he returns? I am staying with Mistress Flaherty on Beacon Hill. If you will just show him this coin, I'm sure he will remember me."
"I will do so." He inclined his head without any change in his expression and quietly closed the door while Fiona called out, "Thank you—"
Turning away, she felt a weak reaction and tottered back to the carriage. Nothing had gone as she had planned it. She never dreamed it would be so difficult to see the governor. All she had worried about was how to impress him with the urgency of her mission.
She hadn't liked handing over the doubloon, either. It might get lost… or stolen… or simply tossed aside. The governor might be too busy to send for her… or too indifferent.
"Where to, miss?" Amos called, when she reached the carriage.
"Back to Mistress Flaherty." Fiona sighed and sank onto the green velvet seat, chewing on her lip. What should be her next move if the governor failed to respond?
She was so deep in thought, at first she didn't recognize the tall figure alighting from a wagon in front of her cousin's house. After a stunned moment, she screamed, "Giles!" and wrenched open the coach door. With a bound, he had her in his arms and crushed the breath out of her lungs with the force of his embrace and a swift, hard kiss upon her lips.
"My darling, are you all right?"
"Yes, but oh, I am so relieved to have you here beside me." She cupped his face and rained kisses on him while he responded with equal fervor. Then she drew back a little, sobering. "I tried to see Sir William, but he was out. I'll have to see him later." She was interrupted by the voice of Amos calling as he peered curiously at Giles.
"Will you be needing me anymore just now, miss?"
"No, thank you, Amos. This is my—er—friend, Doctor Giles Harmon, from Salem."
Amos touched his cap. "A good day to you, doctor." He then drove slowly around the side of Samantha's property, sending several backward glances before he drove out of sight.
"He must be dying to know what business I had with the governor, but he is too well trained to ask." Fiona took Giles by the hand. "Come, let's sit in that pergola before we go inside. I want to hear about Blaize, and I have things to tell you, too."
Giles threw her a concerned glance but allowed himself to be led inside the little honeysuckle-covered summer-house at the far end of the garden. Paths of ground shells wound between well-tended beds of roses coming into bloom, tulips, hyacinths, and pansies. From somewhere came a scent of lilacs mingling with the salty air and tar from shipyards that seemed to be a part of Boston.
The garden, beautiful though it was, did not hold any interest for Fiona at this time. Inside the summerhouse, she flung herself into Giles's arms. "Oh, dearest, do you think I'll be able to see Sir William? It was such a blow! He won't be back until tonight."
"Tonight? Then that's when we shall pay him a visit."
"You'll go with me?"
"Of course. Now, I guess you are wondering if I met Blaize. The answer is no."
"Didn't he come back?" Fiona exclaimed.
"Yes, but by that time I had enlisted the aid of that nearby farmer I mentioned and we had moved the wagon. Blaize came sniffing, but he didn't see us and seemed in a tremendous hurry. He turned around and pounded back down the road to Boston."
"Oh, Giles, yes, he followed me—right onto the ferry!"
"Good Lord, how did you evade him?"
"There was a big crowd on the boat, and under cover of it I jumped into the river. No one noticed me. At least, I didn't think so…"
"You—what?" Giles choked.
"Well, my father taught me to swim, but the current was too strong. A fisherman rescued me, or I might have drowned. He brought me to Samantha's house after that."
Giles gathered her into his arms and groaned. "Oh, Lord, you're so impetuous. Are you all right? No chills?"
"No, I had all night to recover. Samantha gave me a warm bed and some breakfast. She was very kind, even sent her coachman to drive me to Sir William's."
"How much have you told your cousin about Salem?"
"Nearly everything except Judge Blaize pursuing me and the fact that I also am wanted by the magistrates."
"That's not 'nearly everything.' Don't you think you should let her know that you are in danger? Suppose Blaize comes here?"
Fiona caught her breath. "How would he know where to come?"
"Grace might have told him you had a relative here and if you wished to hide, this would be the logical place for you to go."
"You're right. Grace would make every effort to see me caught." Hating to leave the warm security of the arms enfolding her, she nevertheless moved away. "I think we should go in and tell Samantha everything."
Giles nodded. "I agree. And tonight we'll visit Governor Phips."
Fiona raised her face to his. "I'm so grateful that you're here with me and I don't have to go on alone anymore."
"I always want to be there at your side, my dearest." With an almost desperate hunger, Giles kissed her brow, lips, and throat while Fiona clung to him, wishing this blissful moment could go on forever. At last he whispered, "Do you recall your promise to me by the brook? I want to buy you a betrothal ring as soon as possible."
Suddenly, reality came flooding back and she was aware of the terrible doom-laden hours of fear and uncertainty ahead. "Oh, dearest," she choked, "I love you with all my heart and soul, but you know I might be caught and charged with—with witchcraft. Your aid to me would then place you in the gravest danger."
"Do you think I would care about that?" he cried roughly, grabbing her by the arm. "Do you believe I would turn my back on you because of any danger to myself?"
"No, but how do you think I'd feel if I brought you down with me? I could not bear it!"
"Not another word. I intend to stand beside you through any trouble and never stop the fight to save both you and your mother."
"Heavens above, Fiona! Are you also wanted by the witch hunters?" A gasping voice spoke from the doorway and Samantha stepped into the summerhouse.
Chapter 27
Alarmed at first, Fiona then nodded to her cousin with a feeling of relief that everything would now be brought into the open.
"Yes, Samantha, Grace, who cried out on my mother, also cited me. She stated that I made friends with people who were under suspicion and had drawn Giles from her side with magic. Oh, she said so many foolish things."
"The girl was jealous of Fiona," Giles's deep voice cut in.
Samantha turned her eyes on him. "Fiona, who is this handsome young man?"
"Oh, excuse me. This is my friend, Doctor Giles Harmon. I mentioned him to you previously. Giles, Samantha Flaherty."
Giles bowed gravely. "I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Flaherty, but I trust I am more than Fiona's friend. She has consented to become my wife." He sent Fiona a smile which brought a warm wave to her cheeks.
Samantha sank down on a bench. "Well… well… congratulations." Her bewildered glance traveled to Fiona. "Is this true? A search is out for you from the Salem witch hunters?"
Fiona nodded. "I didn't want to add to your worries, but now there is a possibility that a certain Judge Nicholas Blaize may be searching for me through Boston's streets. I saw him on the ferry, and tha
t is why I jumped into the river."
"Oh, my Lord!" Samantha pressed a hand against her chest. "How does he know you are in Boston?"
"I told him once that I was acquainted with Sir William, who had promised help if ever I should need it."
"Then—then—oh, child, did you see the governor? What did he say?"
"He wasn't home. He will return tonight for a ball at the mansion. I left a note for him with the majordomo."
"Meanwhile, this judge may have discovered my name from Grace or Mercy. You must come inside and not let anyone get near you—any stranger, that is," Samantha stated firmly.
Fiona gripped her hands together. "I can't stay here. Judge Blaize might put you in danger. I expected to see Sir William earlier and then leave at once for Salem, but now I will have to wait. Is there a secluded place where Giles and I could hide until tonight?"
Samantha sprang up, her blue eyes flashing. "What nonsense! Of course you will stay here. Come at once into the house, both of you. Amos can guard the front door with my husband's musket just as he used to aboard my Joel's ships while keeping watch for pirates. I would trust Amos with my life."
"What do you say, Giles?" Fiona asked.
He frowned thoughtfully, then said, "I think you would be safe here if you kept out of sight. It will be for just a few hours."
"Very well." Fiona smiled gratefully at her cousin. She really had had enough of hiding and fleeing through the woods. "Perhaps the servants could be told that I have an enemy whose attentions I have spurned."
"And that is the truth," Giles growled.
"Really?" Samantha's eyes grew round, but she didn't probe. Then she raised her chin. "No matter what the reason, Amos will do as I tell him without any explanations, as will Tilly and my cook. Both of them have been with me for ages."
"You are fortunate in your loyal household," Giles said. "However, it may be that Blaize has no exact knowledge, as yet, of Fiona's whereabouts. If he had, I think he would have been here by this time."
" 'Tis best to be on the safe side," Samantha answered. "Now, I will send Amos to stable your horse and wagon. I trust that is your equipage in the street? Very well. Doctor, you look monstrous weary. I venture to say you need refreshment. Am I right?"
"Yes, indeed. I would be most grateful." Giles flashed his charming smile and Fiona could see that her cousin was impressed by him, in spite of the fatigue that lined his face and dusty clothes.
She showed him to a room next to Fiona's where he could wash. After that, they all sat down to a midday meal of beef barley soup, hot biscuits, a bowl of sugared berries with cream and cups of tea served in delicate china cups.
Giles ate hungrily, also doing justice to a platter of cold sliced meat and cheese. After he had assuaged the worst of his hunger, Samantha wanted to know his opinion of the witch trials and if he was one of the Puritans.
"I was raised a Puritan, as were most of Salem's natives, but my years abroad acquiring a degree in England have given me a wider viewpoint," he replied. "I think many young people in the town rebelled against the strict edicts regarding clothes, innocent pastimes, and harsh punishments exacted for any infringements. Their elders came to the New World seeking freedom, but now they deny it to anybody who doesn't think the way they do. The clergy is also behind this witch hunt, as well as—"
Suddenly, he was interrupted by the appearance of Amos in the doorway. Eyes snapping with excitement, Amos doffed his cap and bowed, extending a folded paper with a red blob of sealing wax upon it. "Mistress, this was just delivered. Shoved it underneath the door, he did, then left."
Samantha accepted the note, then said, "Thank you, Amos. Return to the front hall, and remember—"
"Yes, mistress. I don't open the door to any strange man. That's why when he knocked and said there was a message, I had him push the note beneath the door." Amos saluted, swung smartly on his heel, and marched out, clearly enjoying the trust and the moment of excitement after his recent years of being just a peaceful coachman.
Samantha looked down at the note and turned it over. "Why, Fiona, it's for you."
Fiona's first thought was that Blaize had discovered her whereabouts and was warning her that flight would bring worse punishment. She almost felt afraid to read the note.
"Well, child, aren't you going to open it?" Samantha asked, not succeeding in controlling her concern.
Fiona broke the seal and read aloud:
Miss Fiona Prescott:
I am very sorry to have missed your visit.
Fiona glanced down at the signature and sucked in her lip. "Oh—it's from the governor!" She read:
I would like to see you this evening at my masquerade ball and will find time to speak with you privately.
This letter will admit you and an escort. I am also enclosing the doubloon.
I stand ready to help you in any way I can.
Yours respectfully,
William Phips
Royal Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts Bay Colony.
Fiona gave a joyful cry. "Oh, thank heaven, he'll see me tonight. Giles, you shall be my escort."
Samantha clapped softly. "Now things are moving properly. The governor will grant you an audience and you can tell him everything. And the next thing is—what shall you wear?"
Fiona looked down at herself. "Wouldn't this dress do? I need not mingle with the guests, you know. I just want a few private words with Sir William." Fervently, she kissed the note. "Bless him!" She tied the coin again around her neck.
"I fear I am too travel-stained even for a private session," Giles said wryly.
"You both must make a good appearance. Servants and all, you know, judge by exteriors." Samantha tapped her chin.
"I can outfit Fiona with another gown more suitable for a ball, but you, sir… well, Tilly can restore your things somewhat. Alas, my husband was too short for you to fit into anything except a shirt and—hmm—yes, I recall a brocaded waistcoat that I put away. I couldn't bear to part with all Joel's things. You shall have a banyan robe of his to wear while your clothes are washed and pressed."
Giles bowed. "Thank you, Mrs. Flaherty. You are most extremely kind. I shall put aside any misgivings about my appearance. The important thing is to see Sir William and present the facts to him in a clear, orderly manner."
"Also as forcefully as possible," Fiona said. "But without being overly dramatic. Let us discuss what we should say."
"I think it would be advisable to write it down," Giles said. "Then we could leave the notes with him to refresh his memory."
They all agreed and as soon as the meal ended, Samantha brought sheets of paper, a well-trimmed quill, and ink already mixed in a clay jug. A place was cleared at the table and Samantha left them to their task, saying she always rested in the afternoon.
After a little discussion, Giles and Fiona decided that the last part of the affair should be presented first to capture his attention. Giles wrote down that Ellen Prescott had treated Grace's skin with a facial salve, which for some unforseen reason, inflamed Grace's skin to an alarming and painful degree.
"I do hope Sir William won't think that smacks of witchcraft," Fiona worried.
"We can't predict what he will think," Giles said, writing with a firm, bold stroke. "Let us tell the truth and not attempt to color it one way or the other."
"You're right. Then say that Grace immediately cried that she had been poisoned by a witch, her aunt, Ellen Prescott. She went screaming into town, followed by many people, including her mother, Mercy Prescott."
"Go slower," Giles muttered.
After a minute, Fiona continued. "Write that a group returned to the Prescott house while I was with Mrs. Harmon and they took Ellen Prescott off to jail. Later, we found out that when questioned by the magistrates, she denied all charges, but witnesses came forward to speak against her. Grace said there had been many other suspicious acts, the dry cow after we arrived, the black cat she treated, also our friendship with Rebecca Nurs
e and Sally Woods, both suspected witches. On the stand, Mercy said she didn't like the strange herbs used in the salve and only permitted its use after Grace threw a tantrum."
Giles's pen scratched busily. "Then I had better add that you also are suspected for the same reasons, but you fled before you could be apprehended."
"Is that a crime?" Fiona asked, "fleeing from the constable?"
"Yes." Giles stretched his hand across the table to clasp her fingers. "But no one can be blamed for seeking help when they are innocent. How else could you have come here to ask Sir William's aid? You wouldn't stand a chance for help locked up in jail."
"Oh, Giles, I'm so glad you're here to comfort me."
"There is nowhere else I want to be." He pressed her fingers, then read aloud what he had written. "Do you think we should add the fact that you have incurred Judge Blaize's enmity?"
"That part bothers me," Fiona said slowly. "Sir William might think I had encouraged him. Let's leave that out for now. When we see the governor, I may decide to tell him. Do you suppose he knows how the trials are being conducted? The speed, the hysteria, the lying witnesses?"
"And the reliance on spectral evidence, to say nothing of belief in the words of little children. We may need to explain all that to him."
After a moment's silence, Fiona mused aloud. "Isn't it incredible? You would think the whole thing was a fantasy from some dark, ancient time when people were ignorant and extremely superstitious."
"It's a dark fantasy, all right, and will go down in history as a most shameful episode in Salem, never to be forgotten."
"And we are right in the middle of it." Fiona rose, hands pressed on the table. "Giles, is it only a bad dream? Will I wake up?"
Giles came around the table and led her from the room. "No, it is very real," he said deeply. "But I know you can be strong and brave. Remember, I will help you all the way."
She raised her face to his. "Thank, you, Giles. I hate to think how I would have gone on without you."
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