Bewitching My Love

by Diane Story

  Rowen had no clue what to do; she’d picked up on his English quickly. Well, he couldn’t stand here looking like an idiot. He would have to respond. “We are only passing through, madam, I am not a relative to anyone in your village.”

  She smiled, what strange place did this man come from? And the woman by his side, she was familiar. Surely they had met before today. “You do speak stran— She looked past him. Jonathan was approaching them from across the road. He never approached her in public. She looked around to make sure they wouldn’t be noticed before bringing her eyes back to his. But his eyes betrayed him, something was wrong. He stood away from her, with shackles dangling from his hands to rest against his thighs.

  “Mary Wilds!” Jonathan swallowed the lump in his throat as he called to her.

  What was wrong? He was the magistrate of their village, and was speaking to her as if she were one of his prisoners. “’Tis I, Jonathan Nichols.” She smiled at him, but didn’t hide the questioning in her eyes.

  “You have been accused by Sarah Nichols of witchcraft, Mary Wilds. What say you, are you guilty of witchcraft, of which you are suspected, or not?” Jonathan felt as if his heart would surely break. He had no choice but to do as the judge told him. If he refused his life would be ruined.

  “If it please you, Jonathan Nichols, I know nothing of witchcraft.” Turning her head and eyes about to take in the crowd that had now gathered, fear began to build in the pit of her stomach. “I take all these people to witness that I am clear of this accusation, Sir.”

  Fern and Rowen stood back and witnessed the frightening scene before them. Rowen wanted to see Jonathan, but not like this. It took everything in his power to keep from jumping on the man when he turned Mary around and pushed her against the wall, then cinched the shackles to her wrists as if she were a common thief. They both stood staring into Mary’s eyes where her face was pressed against the wall, watching in horror as her tears rolled down her cheeks in a silent plea for help. They couldn’t intervene, history forced them to stand and witness what must take place. Fern’s heart was breaking; Rowen’s fists were doubling.

  * * * *

  “Mary, where do you be, girl?” The old woman crept through the house, dragging her wooden cane behind her. “Speak girl!” It took her all night to drag her old bones back from the Northfield’s. Casting spells always made her hungry. “Mary! I have found your cross.” Her screechy voice was even unnerving to her. Where was that girl? Stopping at the base of the stairs she looked up, listening for any sound from up above. She had her foot on the first step when she remembered what day it was. Old age was taking her mind before she was ready. “It is time for thee to save thine only child.”

  Scooting her tired feet back to her chair, she sat again and read from her book.

  The 17th generation will try to fool you. But be thou not a fool, lest your curse will fall but on thee.”

  She let the pages flutter through her crooked fingers before returning the bound book to its place next to her chair. She felt the bones of her spine grate against each other as she made her way up the stairs. She kept her book of spells hidden in her bedchamber.

  * * * *

  Rowen and Fern stayed in the village long enough to watch Mary be thrown into the back of a wagon and hauled off to the village jail. The villagers screamed at her, “To the gallows you go witch, to hang for your sins.” Rowen had to hold Fern back from running after the children when their mothers allowed them to chase the wagon, throwing rocks at Mary as they went.

  “Oh Rowen, how can we be expected to allow this to happen? We’re from the future, surely we can tell them that what they are doing is wrong.” As she watched the wagon make its way down the cobblestone road, Fern saw Jonathan turn on the buckboard to look down at Mary where she sat huddled against the side of the wagon. It wasn’t until Jonathan’s head rose toward them that she realized her Vizard had fallen away from her face. “Oh my God Rowen, he saw me.”

  “Fern, I told you to be careful. Here, let me help you fix it.” After he tucked it back in place he took her hand and led them away from the village. “I don’t think he noticed you, Fern. I’m sure he was too distraught over what he’d just done to see anything beyond Mary.”

  “I didn’t see any remorse in his eyes, Rowen. How could he do that to Mary if he is supposed to love her? This place is wicked, I want to go home, now!” Yanking her hand free she ran ahead of him, wiping her hot tears as she went.

  Rowen caught her just as they were crossing back over the Wooleston Bridge. “Fern stop! Now look at me.” With his thumb and index fingers he lifted her chin so she was forced to look at him. “I didn’t say this was going to be easy. I’m sorry you had to see that, hell Fern, I’m sorry I had to see that. Now that we know for sure we stopped you from killing Jonathan and Sarah, we must concentrate on the rest of the curse. We have ten more days before the execution, maybe if we try really hard, we can fall in love, hmm?” He smiled down into her soft hazel eyes, losing himself in their depths.

  “You know I hate you, don’t you?” She smiled at his look of pain.

  “About as much as I hate you, Fern!” Taking her hand again he turned them toward the field. “Let’s go, we have much to think about.”

  * * * *

  Ground heart of dove, liver of sparrow, womb of swallow, and kidney of a hare. Now all she needed was an equal part of the victim’s own blood. Dried and powdered, she would add it with the rest of the ingredients then mix it into a liquid. “Marvelous success you shall be granted,” Elizabeth cackled as she prepared her ingredients. Tonight she would draw the girl from the cave and take some of her blood to complete the spell. Love shall bind Jonathan’s descendent to her, Love would keep her from her own death, but as promised from her own sisterhood, Elizabeth would have her revenge. Jonathan and his sweet wife would die at the hands of this girl Fern even if she had to use the trickery of love to ensure her success.

  Elizabeth was tired. At sixty-four years old she had lived well beyond her time. With her cane in hand, her sack with her mixture thrown over her slumped shoulder and her love potion memorized she prepared to make her journey yet again, across the Northfield’s.

  * * * *

  “Why have you done this, Sarah?” Jonathan yelled. “You have accused Mary Wilds of witchery, which you know to be a lie. I promised you, my wife, that my heart belonged to ye why then have ye done this evil deed?” He paced quickly back and forth in front of Sarah, his blood rapidly reaching a boiling point in his anger.

  “How does my husband know that Mary Wilds is not a witch? If she has taken you to her bed and you still protest your love for me, how can she be not a witch?” Sarah knew Jonathan was angry but she didn’t care. Mary would be punished for causing her this pain.

  Jonathan stopped in front of Sarah where she sat behind the table, slamming his fist down hard in front of her. “I know not what a witch is and I know nothing of witchcraft. But I know Mary is innocent of this accusation you make. You will go forth to our worship henceforth, to tell of your lie, Sarah Nichols. Mary will not die for your anger.”

  “I do not hear what you say, husband. I will not confess to a lie when I have not told a lie. I will not go,” Sarah turned her head away and closed her eyes when he bent down to within inches of her face.

  “My wife, can you not find it in your soul to tell the truth?” His heart was torn when she turned in her chair, showing him her back. “Tell the truth in this matter, Sarah!” He slammed his fist down in front of her again. She jumped but didn’t respond to his show of anger. “Mary Wilds will be thus tormented and put to her death if your heart cannot be truthful.” He turned and left her then. He wasn’t a violent man, but right at the moment he found himself tempted.

  * * * *

  “Come back inside the cave, Fern, you’ve been sitting out there ever since it got dark,” Rowen called to her from inside.

  “Rowen! Tell me again about Mary’s child that was taken away from her by Eli
zabeth. Does anyone know where she took the child?” The sky was full of stars and fireflies, a magical combination against the velvety black backdrop of the night. She wasn’t quite ready to go in yet.

  “Know one knows, Fern. She was taken at birth. Elizabeth told Mary she died. All we know for certain is that she did survive. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” He sat back against the wall of the cave and watched her through the opening. She was sitting on a boulder with her dress pulled up, exposing her long legs to the rays of the moonlight. Her toes curled in the grass at her feet. She had her head back as she looked up to the sky and her red locks fell in layered lengths until they brushed against the rock behind her. Her skin was so fair that it looked as if it glowed against the darkness surrounding her. Her beauty captivated him; he realized he could sit contentedly watching her all night. If it weren’t so dangerous he would have.

  “I don’t want to come in yet, Rowen, it is much too stuffy in there. Just a little longer, I’ll come in soon.” She’d caught sight of something shining in the foliage across from her and forgot where she was going with her questions about Mary’s baby. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Fern, don’t go wondering off in the dark.”

  “It’ll just take a second, I promise.” She slid down from her place on the boulder. “There’s something in the trees, I just want to see what it is.” It was shiny; maybe the old woman had dropped the cross she took from her.

  “Alright fern, but I won’t be responsible for any animals that might want a bite of you.” When she didn’t come running back like he thought she would he decided to go after her, and was just standing up when he heard her swear.

  “Ouch, Ohh, damn! Rowen, I cut my finger on a rock.” She stood looking down at her finger. It stung like sin. “I bet we don’t have anything to wrap it with, do we?”

  He reached her in seconds. Taking her hand he looked at it in the moonlight. “It’s not bad Fern, come on, we’ll tear a piece of cloth from your cape.”

  They were just ducking down to go back in the cave when Rowen heard the rustling of the trees where they’d just been standing. He turned and squinted against the dark, but there was nothing there. “Did you find what you were looking for, Fern?”

  “No, by the time I got to where I thought it was, it wasn’t there. It must have been my imagination.” Her finger wasn’t bleeding anymore, thank goodness, the sight of blood made her woozy.

  “I ask in the name of my child Mary Wilds that I, Elizabeth, be granted the power of love. I ask this for the good of Fern and Rowen. So mote it be. In no way will this spell reverse, or place upon me any curse. In this night and in this hour, I call upon the Ancient power. O Goddess Bride and Consort Bright, I ask thee now to bring your light. I have a need that must be met. I ask thee that I obtain the perfect spell for love. I ask the Universe to lend the power of all the correct astrological correspondences so they may enter this circle now to obtain my desire.

  Therefore, I specifically draw toward myself the power to bestow love. I give to Fern and Rowen a powerful love, not for me, but for one another. When each they look into one another’s eyes, there love shall be.” Her arms shook as she held the ingredients up against the night sky. “I now proclaim this spell is done. The spell of love is mine! In no way will this spell reverse, or place upon me any curse! As I will, so mote it be! In this sacred space and time, We call now the Old Ones; the Goddess of the moon, seas and rivers; the God of the rayed Sun, of valleys and forests; Draw near us during this, our circle. For this love of Fern and Rowen, cannot be undone.”

  Elizabeth fell to the ground in a heap. The spell had taken all of her strength. It took her longer than she thought to get the girl’s blood, then she had to dry it before adding it to her mixture. It was late, she needed to go home and prepare herself for Mary’s trial. The love spell would ensure the fate of Jonathan and Sarah’s ancestors. Rowen would love Fern too much to let her hang. Her throat cracked with her weak laughter. “Stupid man, doth he not understand she will not be denied her vengeance?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Rowen, wake up!” Grasping him by his shoulders, Fern shook him. He was thrashing around so hard that he practically rolled over on top of her before she could move.

  “No, no! Get away from us, you cannot have her.” The old woman stood across the river, her eyes red and slated as she beckoned Fern toward her. And the child, oh my God not the child. Sitting up, he yelled blindly into the darkness of the cave. “Run, Fern, run back across the field, she cannot touch you when I’m here. And Rose, grab her, Fern, before the witch kills her.”

  “Rowen, wake up!” Fern shook him harder until his eyes suddenly opened and fixed on her.

  “Thank God, thank God. Oh Fern, thank Go...” His voice trailed off, his nightmare all but forgotten as his eyes focused on hers.

  Fern released his shoulders and sat back on her knees, their eyes locked together in the twilight of the cave. Nothing existed now but him and her. With only the light of the moon to aid her, she placed her hands on his face. As light as a feather, with one palm on each side of his rough face, she drew him close. Her lips trembled as she spoke. “How could I have been blind? How can this be, Rowen? Tell me, how is it that I...” She let her lips rest gently on his as she whispered the words. “That, I love you.”

  “And I love you, Fern.” Rowen felt as if he’d been punched in the gut, as her breath fanned hot against his lips and he knew he wanted her. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he pulled her down to straddle his hips when their lips finally came together. The kiss was intense, so wonderfully exquisite he had to pull back to take a breath before rolling her underneath him. He kissed her over and over, trailing his tongue over her lips and tasting the sweetness of her mouth while she reacted with her own heated response. Leaning back, he looked up into her eyes as he trailed his finger down her jaw and neck, then beyond. Cupping her chin in his palm, he held her there before continuing. “How is it I didn’t see this before now? I love you Fern. How? I don’t know. All I know is I must hold you, and kiss you, and taste you…” His words trailed off as he bent his head forward to nibble her chin.

  “I’ve always known my first time would be with the man I love.” Her fingers dug deep into his long black hair as she pulled him down to lie next to her on her blanket. When his lips found her neck, and his teeth bit into her soft flesh she groaned deep within her chest; she wanted more. His groping hands fondled her everywhere he could find skin, the sensation was maddening. Sitting up, she raised her arms. “Help me undress, Rowen,” she cooed the words in a sultry sort of way that made his eyes widen.

  Rowen swallowed a shaky breath at the sight of her breasts as they tilted upward when she raised her arms above her head. Standing up, he took her with him as he went. With gentle fingers he removed the hooks at the back of the dress until he was all the way to her waist. Reaching inside, he slid his hands around her small waist until they settled under the voluptuous mounds of her breasts. “Raise your arms again, Fern.” When she did, he bent forward and kissed the soft space nestled between them that he’d yearned for before. She was sweeter than he could have ever imagined. Reaching down, he pulled the hem of her dress up to her waist, his hands sliding up her thighs as he went. “I love you, oh God how I love you. Our lovemaking will be perfect, I promise.” He ground his face deeper between her breasts and inhaled her scent. Intoxicated with her, he proceeded to show her.

  “You’re torturing me, Rowen.” Her eyes were closed when she felt her dress drop to the ground around her feet. But they flew wide open when his teeth circled the erect tip of her breast. He’d unclasped her bra and slid it off without her realizing it. Her knees almost buckled from the intensity of it. “Rowen, please don’t…”

  Rowen shed his shirt and pants then helped her to lie back down on their blankets. He wanted to see her when he made love to her. He wanted to see her pleasure. With one of their candles lit, and the glow of the moon and stars to light his way,
he went into her outstretched arms. “Do you know how beautiful you are, Fern?” He kissed her lips again and let the tips of his fingers play over one of her taught nipples, twisting it between his fingers before dropping his head down to replace them with his tongue. Gently, he made love to the flesh of her breasts with his tongue, tasting and teasing until he was sure she was ready for more.

  Fern’s body jerked upward with the sensation, her breath catching in her throat. “Oh how I love you Rowen, please take me now. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  “Patience Fern, I want to savor you for as long as I can our first time. But more than that, I want your first time to be perfect.” Rolling her over to her stomach, he straddled her hips then leaned forward to run the tip of his finger down her spine. “I want you to remember this night.”

  Fern moaned her satisfaction when he rolled her back over and parted her legs with the strong muscles of his thigh. “Make love to me with passion, not reluctance.” She didn’t want to be babied; she wanted him to treat her like a woman. Sweat glistened off his body underneath the moonlight, enchanting her with his masculine beauty. Her fingers ached to touch him. Her body begged for him to fill her, to release the desire she felt building in the pit of her abdomen. “I’m not afraid. I know you won’t hurt me.”

  Sweat glistened from his brow as he positioned himself over her. Their shadows reached out to him from the cave wall, singing their sultry cry for release. He would oblige, he would give them what they desired. His eyes snapped back down to hers when her fingernails raked through the black hairs of his chest. She was arching her back toward him, tempting him with her voluptuous breasts. He slid his sex through the crimson tangle of the moist curls nestled between her thighs as he bent forward. Taking her offer, he suckled and teased her repeatedly until she moaned his name between clenched teeth. “I have to have you, love, I can’t wait any longer.”