by Holly Kelly
“You spoke your vows. I said, I do not. It seems no one heard me properly.”
Eli stepped back, stunned. Then he narrowed his eyes and raised his hand. His hand flew, and pain exploded in her cheek.
Hope found herself gasping on her hands and knees as she tried to get on top of the pain.
He’d struck her!
Never in her life had anyone laid a hand on her. And the man who vowed to love and cherish her, of all people. She blinked back tears, determined not to give him the satisfaction of crying. Raising her eyes, she realized she was only inches from her dead father.
If only he’d known what kind of man Eli André was. He never would have insisted she marry him. His weathered fingers peeked from under the blanket where they clasped something—his musket.
“You will never speak such lies to me again,” Eli growled. “We are married, and you will show me the respect I deserve.”
Hope nodded. “Yes, I will.” She snatched the musket, turned, and thrust the handle at Eli. It hit him directly between the legs.
His face turned red as he clutched his groin and dropped to his knees.
“And that is exactly what you deserve,” she said as she grabbed the bag and then scrambled her way out of the tent.
Heads were poking from their doors and gaping at her as she sprinted toward the forest. She’d only just made it to the trees when Eli began shouting.
They would be coming after her.
She ran through the woods, splashed through puddles, and ducked under branches as she continued to run, the moonlight guiding her way. The shouts and commotion eventually faded, but still she ran. She ran until her lungs burned. She ran until her legs weakened so severely they scarcely held her up. And when she was too weak to run, she stumbled through the woods.
When daylight began to brighten the sky, she found a thicket, squeezed her way in, and collapsed in exhaustion. Sleep overtook her quickly, but nightmares plagued her with images of horror, pain, and despair. At last her dreams were brightened by icy blue eyes framed by blond hair and pointed ears.
Chapter 4
Conall stood at the place where he'd entered the human realm, searching for the shimmer of light that would reveal the opening. He paced back and forth, his eyes sweeping the area.
Nothing.
It was gone.
Growling, he slammed his fist against a nearby trunk. Haryk was overreacting. Conall had only stolen a kiss, and it was only in play. He had no real interest in Edwina. Still, angering his brother had been foolish. Though, perhaps Haryk was right. Maybe he did cross the line when he’d kiss Haryk’s betrothed. But Haryk couldn’t possibly intend to banish his brother to the human world forever. Haryk despised humans. Banishing Conall here was a particularly sharp insult.
“Haryk, you son of a goblin!” he shouted to the sky. “Open the door!”
He waited for a response. Instead, his response was silence. It was beginning to unnerve Conall.
He waited a full day for his brother to calm down and open the door. When that day passed, he left to forage for food and came back to wait once again. There were other doorways to Faery and others knew where to find them, but Conall didn’t frequent the human world. He had no idea where to look for them. If he remained much longer, he’d have to set out in search of one. There wasn’t an abundance of food to be found, and he was already feeling weak. Not to mention, the night had turned cold, and he had no blanket or even a shirt on his back.
A full day later, Conall had to admit defeat. His stomach cramped in hunger, and his magic was so far diminished that it was all he could do to maintain his glamour. It looked like his brother’s anger would not cool down quickly. He needed to seek out a human’s help.
It shouldn’t be too difficult. Merith came here all the time. He said humans were easily manipulated and seducing them was fun.
Conall’s mind went back to the human woman he’d tumbled down the hill with. She was easy to look on, with her fiery brown eyes, curly brown hair, and curves in just the right places. If all woman were as appealing as her, he might find his time in the human world enjoyable.
Trudging through the forest, he came to a beaten path and followed it. Hopefully a home stood at the end of it. He found the occasional berry along the path, but nothing substantial enough to stifle his aching hunger.
The sky began to darken as he journeyed. He had maybe an hour before it became too dark to continue. The scent of smoke filled the air. There had to be a human nearby. He kept to the path as the darkness deepened, but the scent of burning pine kept him moving forward. Finally, he found the glow of a lighted house through the trees.
The house was little more than a one room cabin. Still, his stomach would not allow him to turn back. He heard someone moving about as he approached the door. He raised his fist and knocked. All activity within ceased, and he stood there in silence.
The door creaked open. He had to stifle a gasp at the face that peered at him through the crack. Her sharp, angular face was plagued with warts sprouting course hairs. This woman held nowhere near the appeal as the last human he’d met. In fact, she was downright hideous. Still, he caught the aroma of something delectable coming from inside.
“Hello?” she said. “Can I help you?”
“Hello, my dear,” he answered smoothly. “I’m afraid I’ve become rather lost and am in need of a place to stay.”
Her large, crooked teeth bit down on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. . . .” she finally answered.
He gave her a pleading look. “Could you ask your husband?” He glanced behind her.
“Oh, no. I’m not married. So, you see why it wouldn’t be proper for you to sleep under my roof. I mean, we would be alone . . . together.” She looked him over, her eyes lingering on his bare chest.
He turned on the charm. “I promise to be the perfect gentleman. Your lady’s virtue is safe with me.” Oh, how true that was!
She stood in silence, debating in her mind for a moment. The wind picked up, chilling his back. She shivered and sighed. “All right. But you’ll have to sleep on the floor. I do have a bed roll that will soften the hardness of the floor for you.” She gestured him to come inside, and he did, allowing the warmth of the room to seep into his chilled skin.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I have some stew. I was just about to sit down to eat.”
“You’re very kind. Yes, I could eat.”
They sat down to a meager meal of vegetable stew, and he practically inhaled his food.
“You were hungry,” she said, smiling. She pushed her bowl toward him. “You’re welcome to have mine.”
He mumbled a thank you and made quick work of her bowl also. When he’d finished, he was still hungry, but at least he was no longer famished. If he weren’t immortal, he might have been worried about starving to death. But as it was, hunger was just a torment to his stomach, not a threat to his life.
When he was finished, he rose to his feet as she gathered the dishes.
“Let me just get these washed,” she said, “and I’ll get you your bedding.” She left him alone to step outside.
Conall looked around. This was an exceptionally small house, but it was clean. Perhaps he should stay here for a time. That was, if she would prepare more food for him and give him a warm place to stay. Perhaps he could glean some information that might give him a direction to seek out another doorway.
It wasn’t long before she returned. She went straight to her trunk and pulled out a roll of blankets. “I hope this will be comfortable enough for you.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said. It had to be better than sleeping on the cold, hard ground.
Conall crawled into bed and was asleep in seconds.
* * * * *
The sound of sizzling meat awoke Conall, bringing a smile to his face. He could get used to this. He looked over at the human as she busied herself by the fire. He cringed when he saw her face. That was something he could never get used to. It seemed more war
ts had sprouted overnight and her nose…was it larger? It looked like a stork’s beak.
She turned and smiled. Conall shuddered inside as he forced himself to smile back.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“I’m famished,” he answered.
“Well, then come join me at the table. This time I made plenty.”
Conall’s stomach shouted for joy at the large banquet spread out before him.
“Listen,” she said as he began to eat. “I’m sorry I was so suspicious of you. You were a perfect gentleman last night. And I was wondering . . .”
Conall looked up when she hesitated.
“Are you married?” she asked.
Conall chuckled. “No.”
“Well, you look a bit lost. And I do have means.”
Conall looked around at the tiny cabin. He wouldn’t consider this means.
“I know the cabin is small,” she said. “But I own fifty acres of land. That is no small piece of property. And I am a hard worker, a good cook, and will take care of your every need.” As she said those words, her eyes brushed over his body.
Conall felt a bit sick when he realized what she was saying. “Are you offering yourself to me?”
She nodded, her eyes now on the floor. “Only if we properly wed.”
Conall couldn’t hold back his reaction. His laughter bellowed, reverberating off the walls.
When he finally composed himself, he looked up to see anger burning in her eyes. “I apologize,” he said. “I just . . . well, first of all, I don’t even know your name. Second of all, I couldn’t bring myself to look at your face for the next fifty years—or however long you humans live—much less bed you.”
Conall was surprised to see her anger melt into amusement. His heart skipped a beat as unease settled in his stomach.
“I knew you were more than just a man.” She was now smiling widely. Something was definitely amiss.
She stood, leaning over as she cupped her hand in front of her face. Before he could guess what she was going to do, she blew. Green dust billowed around him and Conall gasped, inhaling a good amount of a bitter-tasting herb.
His mind went hazy as he looked at the witch. How did he not know what she was? Her face transformed before his eyes from hideous to beautiful.
“I think it’s time I introduced myself,” she said. Her face swam in his vision. “I’m Lavinia, and I’m happy to welcome you to hell.”
Chapter 5
Eight Years Later
“How many chambers does the heart have?” Hope said as she finished the diagram on the chalkboard and turned around. Young, eager faces looked at her, many with their hands thrust in the air. Racheal lifted her hand tentatively. Hope’s eyes widened as she suppressed a smile. The young girl was making progress.
“Racheal,” Hope said.
“Four?” Racheal said quietly.
“Good! Yes, there are four chambers. And what is the heart’s job?”
“It pumps the blood,” Racheal said.
“Very good.”
Hope began a new drawing. “The first person to tell me what organ this is will only have to do the odd problems for arithmetic.”
She’d only drawn a small portion of the picture when a hand shot in the air. “Yes, Kaleb?”
“It’s the kidney.”
“Excellent.”
“Mrs. Jones,” Constance said with her hand raised.
“Yes?”
“Why are you teaching us about what’s in the body? My mother says it’s worthless information.”
“Hmm, that is a good question.” Hope put down the chalk and turned to the class. “How many of you are fond of your bodies?”
Everyone in the class raised their hands.
“Are not you even a bit curious about what’s inside?”
Heads nodded all around.
“The Bible says, ‘Fools despise wisdom and instruction.’ I think the more we learn and understand, the more we become like God. Don’t you think that is a good thing?”
Constance shut her mouth. That would put an end to the debate. The pastor’s daughter would not dare speak out if it sounded like she was speaking against the Bible.
Hope turned to erase the board and began writing arithmetic problems in neat, even rows. “Don’t forget, you older children will have a test on long division on Friday. I expect you all to do well if you’ve been practicing at home.” A hum of groans filled the room, and Hope turned and frowned. At her glare, the room fell silent and everyone returned to their work.
Almost an hour later, the children had finished and gone home. Hope corrected the children’s work and replaced their slate boards on their desks. Gathering her coat and bag, she headed out the door and nearly ran over Mr. Yule.
“Pardon me, Mrs. Jones,” he stammered. “I was hoping to accompany you on your walk to the inn.”
Hope smiled even as she cringed inside. Mr. Yule stood before her, hunched over—she had a clear look at his scalp. Tufts of hair were making a last-ditch effort to hang onto his balding head. Mr. Yule was becoming an annoyance. How many hints did she have to throw at the man? “I do have to hurry, Mr. Yule. I need to get dinner going or the boarders will have no supper.”
“I don’t know how you do it. A woman as fragile as you, working so many hours. Cooking and cleaning at the inn and then the hours you put in teaching school.”
“I am not as fragile as I look. I am quite fit, Mr. Yule.”
He looked her over. “That you are.”
His cheeks tinged with red. Oh, good grief!
“Which is why it is so surprising,” he continued, “how long you’ve been widowed and not yet remarried.”
And here he goes again.
“I am a man of means. I could take care of you. You are not too old to bear many children. We could yet have a houseful, and you would not have to lift a finger.”
A houseful of children and not lift a finger? That would be a miracle.
“I am sorry, Mr. Yule,” Hope said, “but I cannot see myself married to another. My heart still belongs to my late husband.” Hope spoke the lie easily. She’d been saying it for years, and no one had ever questioned her. Any other woman might have married and moved on, but according to the law of the land, she was already married. Hope had resigned herself to the fact she could never marry. She would be forever alone. But still, she had her students and she gleaned joy from teaching them.
“I commend your loyalty to your deceased husband. But God would not expect you to remain a widow.”
“I appreciate your opinion, but you will not be there when I face my Maker. That I must do alone.”
They stepped up to the inn. It was lit up brightly, and there was a lot of commotion. Sounded like it was full tonight.
“Here’s where I bid you goodbye,” Mr. Yule said. “Just keep my offer in mind. If you ever change your mind, and I haven’t found someone else, I will be willing to accept you as my wife.”
“Your offer is very generous, but I am afraid I will not be changing my mind.” A thought struck Hope. There was perhaps a way to stop Mr. Yule’s unrequited solicitations. “I did notice, however, that Florence has been watching you with admiration.” Hope was not telling a lie. Florence was on the hunt for a husband. She looked on every available man with admiration.
His eyes lit up. “She has?”
“Yes, she has.”
“She’s not as comely as you.” He rubbed his chin. “But she does have fine breeding hips.”
Hope coughed to cover her laugh. “Yes, she does. I am sure she could bear you a dozen children.”
He nodded eagerly. “I bet she could.”
He rushed away after he offered a quick goodbye.
Hope gave a big sigh of relief and opened the door.
There was a crowd, and they were dressed in fine clothes. She sure hoped they kept their grabbing hands to themselves. The rich seemed to think they had the right to grope a woman at their pleasure. Hope kept
her wooden spoon handy for such situations.
She picked up her skirt, turned, and nearly fainted.
There in the corner of the room, in deep conversation with two other men, stood Eli. She hadn’t seen him since she’d fled on their wedding day. Sinking back toward the door, her mind raced.
What should she do? She had a life here. She was happy here. Why did he have to show up and threaten to ruin everything?
Perhaps he’d moved on. He may very well have remarried and wanted no one to know they’d ever wed—well, sort of wed.
If he were smart, he’d have accepted her denial of the marriage and gotten an annulment. She had to find out. But he could not see her.
Slipping out the front, she made her way around the house to the back door. As soon as she entered the kitchen, Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “What are you doing sneaking in through the back?”
“Shh!” Hope hissed and gestured for her to follow her back outside.
Elizabeth looked around worriedly and followed.
“What is going on?” Elizabeth asked.
“You remember when I told you about…” She looked around suspiciously. “…you know who?”
Elizabeth’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Who?”
“My husband,” she whispered.
Her eyes flew open wide. “Oh, my heavens. He’s here, isn’t he?”
Hope nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat.
“What are you going to do?”
“Well,” Hope said. “First of all, you’ll have to do the serving. He absolutely cannot see me.”
“And second of all?”
“I need you to find out if he had our marriage annulled.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” Elizabeth asked.
“I don’t know. Act like you are interested in him.”
“My husband would kill me.”
“I just need to know if he’s moved on. I wish I could ask him myself, but I cannot take the chance. He may try to drag me home with him.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I understand.” She frowned. “I will see what I can find out.”
Hope breathed a sigh of relief. “You are the best friend a girl could ever have.”
