Bewitching My Love

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Bewitching My Love Page 6

by Diane Story


  “Oh yes, take me now Rowen! Can’t you see I’m ready?” Her jaw shook with anticipation and her body was on fire. She bit her lip in preparation of what she knew was next. The pleasure to come would far outweigh any pain, she was sure of it. She trusted him.

  * * * *

  “Wake up, Grandmother!”

  Elizabeth blinked her tired eyes a few times before she realized she’d been wakened by the presence of an intruder. “Who be in my house? Leave me now, or I will cast a spell upon thee.”

  “It is I, Grandmother! I am here to remove your spell of love.” Rose brought her cape down tight over her ears when her grandmother’s voice reached her from her bed. She held her lantern out until she could see the wicked eyes glaring back at her. “Get up, Grandmother, you have no choice but to remove the spell.”

  “Who art thou, child? I am not thy grandmother. Leave me, or I will…” Her mouth was shut tight when the girl raised her other hand and screamed, piercing her eardrums with her words.

  “You have no power over me, Elizabeth Wilds, get yourself up from thy bed and follow me now. You must rectify what you have done.” Rose stared at her in disgust. Such evil, how could she have come from this blood? “I will wait for you in your sitting room downstairs, Grandmother. Do not make me wait.”

  Elizabeth shook as she descended the stairs. This child had obvious power. Who sent her here? The fire was burning in the stone fireplace when she entered the room, and the girl was sitting in her chair reading from her sacred books. “I still do not know thy name, child. Speak it out so I might know who has intruded my home.”

  Rose looked up from the books and grimaced as the old lady entered the room. It wasn’t possible for her to have come from such evil, surely there was good in this woman. “I am Rose, Grandmother, your daughter Mary’s child.”

  Elizabeth cackled her amusement. “Not possible, Rose is but an infant. You are a young woman.”

  “I am seventeen years of age, Grandmother. I have passed through my mother’s wardrobe seventeen years from now to come back here and stop you from using a power you have not been given rights to. The sisters of the witches are very angry with you, Grandmother. The gift of love was bestowed on me the day you left me with them. It was seen that my heart is pure, so only I am allowed to cast the spells of love. You will undo what you have done to Fern and Rowen.”

  “It cannot be undone. I bound the spell against all who would intrude.” Elizabeth looked at the girl and knew she was Rose. She had her mother’s eyes. “Go away now, child, and leave me be.”

  Rose stood and walked to her. Reaching out, she took hold of her bony hands and lifted them over her head. “You will not defy the wishes of the sisterhood, Grandmother. Repeat these words as I say them, and the spell will be broken.” Elizabeth tried to free her hands but she held on tight. “If you wish to retain thy place amongst the sisters, you must do this.”

  “Alright, alright. Say the words, then leave me be.” Elizabeth fought her temptation to deny the child again, but knew better. If the sisters sent her, she would have to obey. She stood in silence as the girl’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Then repeated the words as they came from her mouth.

  “Goddess of love, be ye gone. Hear no more thy siren's song. From Fern and Rowen you will fly, ensuring their love will no longer bind.”

  Rose released Elizabeth’s hands and stepped away, she knew the danger of her anger. “I leave you now, Grandmother to return to my own time. Remember the books of time and watch all you do. Do not do anything to break the balance, lest you pay for thy evil deeds.” Holding her grandmother’s cheeks in her hands, she bent forward and kissed her forehead. “Goodbye, Grandmother.”

  Elizabeth sunk into her chair after the girl left her to disappear back up the stairs. The stupid child was too soft. She’d fail as a witch. Of this she was certain. “Cursed girl!”

  * * * *

  The way their eyes held each other, Rowen felt as if he could see all the way to Fern’s soul. “I love you Fern.” He spoke the words as he began pushing his hips forward. He would take her slowly as he loved her too much to cause her pain. But the pain would be his, crumbling forward he yelled out when her knees came together like a vice.

  “Stop, oh my God Rowen, stop.” Fern pushed away so quickly that she almost slammed her head against the rocks behind her. With her eyes wide and her white knuckles pressed against her mouth, she sat naked and shaking, realizing what they’d almost just done.

  Rowen sat in bewildered silence as his body tried to recover. His loins felt as if someone had put a flame to him then tried to put it out with kerosene. His first instinct was to grab her and hold her in place, thinking she was afraid of the unknown. But he knew better, by the look on her face; she looked as if she was ready to kill him. “Fern, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Reaching his hand across the distance between them, he tried to touch her but she immediately flinched away as if his hand were a spider.

  “Oh my God Rowen, I can’t believe we almost…!” Pushing past him she scrambled to her feet and grabbed her clothes before disappearing through the opening of the cave.

  “Fern!” He watched as she disappeared down the trail toward the river. Gathering his clothes, he dressed quickly then went in pursuit.

  By the time he caught up with her she was sitting next to the river’s edge where he’d found her before. She was sitting in the tall ryegrass with her knees up and her head buried in them. He could hear her sobs even before he got to her. Reaching down, he brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen down in front of her knees, concealing her from his view. “Fern, look at me. Please, don’t cry.”

  She yelled past her sobs. “What the hell do you expect me to do, Rowen? I almost had sex with a man I don’t love. Do you know how that makes me feel?” Looking up to his face, she wiped her tears away and glared at him. “How could you take advantage of me like that? I want to go home, Rowen, to hell with this stupid curse.”

  “Are you forgetting something Fern? You weren’t the only to one to profess undying love just now. I believed myself in love with you as well.” He watched as puzzlement crossed her face. “We were the victims of the old bitch again, Fern. It can be the only explanation.” He watched a tear fall silently from her jaw to land on her knee. “I’m so sorry. I would have never made love to you without your permission, Fern. I might be a bastard, but I don’t take advantage of women.”

  Fern let her head fall back down to her knees. “What are we to do, Rowen? We have six more days to figure out a plan. We may as well go back home, we’ll never win. Elizabeth is much too strong, you know that as well as I do.”

  “If we lose, I die. I can’t give up, Fern. Please, help me. Stay here and help me figure out a way.” Sitting down next to her, he pushed aside an urge to envelop her in his arms, to somehow protect her from this place. He wouldn’t give in to the old witch but he worried that it might be too much for Fern.

  “You don’t actually die, Rowen, you only cease to exist. Let’s keep it straight, OK!” She flicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in a display of irritation, then she put her head back down on her knees.

  He ignored her sarcasm. Right now he needed to keep himself together. “Fern, love, please. I can’t do this without your help.” As she raised her head and looked at him with one of her delicate eyebrows cocked in dismay, he knew his choice of words could have been better. He laughed only because he couldn’t think of any other way to lighten the mood.

  Fern frowned then laughed with him; falling to her back in the grass, she laughed until her sides hurt. Then when it was over she lay looking up at the stars in the sky and listened to the water as it traveled over the rocks in the river. “I’ll help you, Rowen. I don’t know why I’ll help you, but I will.” Hopping to her feet she looked down at him. He was superb, even in the dark. “I’m going to cool off in the river before we go back to the cave. You can sit and watch or come join me, suit yourself.”
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  Rowen watched her shed her dress before jumping into the river. Her body cast a silhouette over the water before she plunged in, disappearing completely from his view. When her head reappeared he figured the best way to keep from worrying about her was to join her, he might not love her but that didn’t keep him from desiring her. Depositing his clothes next to hers on the grassy bank, he jumped in.

  Jonathan couldn’t wait to see Mary any longer. He slipped through his bedchamber door quietly, turning once to make sure Sarah still slept. He had to go past many houses before reaching the jail but since it was still early, nobody would see him. Salem was in such turmoil lately with all of the accusations of witchcraft, he often wondered about the future of their small village. Quietly, he closed the door behind him then crept to the cell she was being held in. Her hands were still shackled to the front of her body and she held them close to her chest as she slept on the dirty cot. He stood and watched her for several minutes before unlocking the door. Even with the smudges of dirt on her cheeks, her beauty was beyond compare. She woke when the key brought the heavy lock back hard against the steel of the door.

  “Jonathan, why have you come here?” She didn’t want to see him; he had betrayed their love. Even still, her heart leapt at the sight of him.

  “I cannot stay away from you any longer, my love. I had to see that thou art well.” When she turned her back, he felt the sting of her anger. “Do not turn away from me, my love, please. I did not bring this upon thee. It was Sarah, she accused you out of jealousy.”

  Mary stared at the wall across from her. “You did not tell the truth of it, Jonathan. You know I am not a witch, yet you do not tell the truth to our worship. I will not die from the hands of your wife Sarah, Jonathan. It will be yours to bring me my death.”

  “What would you expect of me, Mary? I am to be a father. If I protect thee, then I too will die.” His heart flooded with sadness when she didn’t turn to face him. “I love thee Mary, I do. Please forgive me.” He wanted to hold her.

  Mary rolled back over to face him then, she wanted to see this love he protested for her. Searching his eyes, she saw it there. It did exist, but it was not enough. “Aye, you do love me, it shines there in your eyes.” After brushing away a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand, she continued. “Go back to Sarah, Jonathan, she is thy future now.” Raising her head off the filthy cot, she pulled her gold cross from around her neck and held it out to him. “I have cherished this gift that you hath given me, Jonathan. I want you to keep it now, and always know it laid next to my heart.” Rolling back over, she closed her eyes. She never wanted to see him again. When she felt the cot rise from his lack of weight she spoke her final words to him. “I forgive you, Jonathan, and I love thee. I shall always love thee. Now leave me, before your wife finds you here. Your son will need his father.” Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she forced back her tears. How could she never know the touch of his lips on hers again? Death would be her only solace.

  Turning at the door, Jonathan reached his hand out to her, fingers wide. If only he could just catch her in his palm like rain falling from the sky. He would hold her close to his heart and take her from this place. Just to touch her, to hold her one last time. He wanted to go back and pick her up in his arms; the desire was overwhelming. But he knew he would be condemned to death for adultery if he let his heart make the choice. He couldn’t let his child grow up without his father. The salt of his own tears tasted bitter against his lips. “Your cross will rest against mine own heart, my love. Here it will stay until the day I die.” His hand clinched into a hard fist then fell to his side. He left her then, to prepare for her trial.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Elizabeth thought about Rose all night and how she could stop her from returning to destroy her spell of love on Fern and Rowen. Her decision came easy; she would return to the sisters and take her back. After Mary’s trial she would go and get her from the Village Haverhill. The child would grow to be a powerful witch, as was evident by her ability to force her way and reverse the spell. If she took control over her as a child, she could turn her into a scornful witch like herself. The sisters wouldn’t part with her easily; she might have to take her without their consent.

  She managed to pull her tired body from her bed and dress; she needed to leave soon if she were to make it to the trial in time. Her Mary, a witch, hah! Not even a witch would accuse her of being a witch. Mary never was a witch and never would be. She was born lacking the ability. Sometimes it happened that way, the inherited ability would skip a generation, or maybe several before it would show up again. Little Rose had apparently inherited enough for not only herself, but her mother as well. With the correct training, she would be able to control anything she wanted. Elizabeth cackled as she closed the front door behind her; she would be just the one to train the child.

  Fern and Rowen sat against the back wall of the small courtroom. Not surprising to Rowen, several people were in attendance. In the front seats there were women holding their bibles to their chests as they prayed; Fern almost laughed at the absurdity of it. The men of the court, including the judge and magistrates, were wearing white powdered wigs. All heads turned when the old woman entered the room. She walked with a cane, and as it slid across the wooden floor it made Fern’s spine tingle. Before the old lady turned to sit, she stared back at them, making eye contact with Fern. Chills raced up her back and Fern felt as if she’d entered her mind.

  The scene didn’t escape Rowen; turning in his seat he situated himself in between them to block the contact. “Don’t look at her, Fern, she is very powerful. I believe it was Elizabeth to cause what happened last night. If that is the case, we must avoid her.”

  Fern blinked and gently shook her head. “I don’t have a doubt it was her, Rowen, she spoke it in her eyes, and her mind just now.” Taking a shaky breath, she leaned a little closer to Rowen. Protection! That was what she needed right now. The old lady scared her, deeply.

  All eyes turned then as Mary was brought in. Jonathan walked in front of her as he led her to her seat next to where the judge would be sitting before taking his seat next to Sarah. Fern noticed that they didn’t look at each other. “If there is supposed to be an undying love between them, Rowen, how is it he can do this to her?”

  “It is my understanding that he had no choice. Sarah is pregnant with his child, if he shows his affection to Mary, he will be accused of adultery and hang on the gallows with her. Shhh! The judge is coming in now.”

  A pin dropping would have made more noise than there was in the room. Fern sat witnessing the next sequence of events in stunned silence as Judge Hauthorn spoke. Words of ignorance, and words of barbaric beliefs, that had long ago been left behind. But this was the 1600’s, wasn’t it; to these people this was normal.

  “Mary Wilds, what do you say? You here stand charged with sundry acts of witchcraft by you done or committed upon the body of Sarah Nichols.”

  “I am innocent, I know nothing of it. I have done no witchcraft.” Mary stared over the heads of the people sitting in the front rows. Making eye contact with the fair-skinned girl sitting in the back, whose face was covered, except for her eyes, she wondered, whose eyes were they, she knew them, somehow.

  “Sarah Nichols, look upon this woman Mary Wilds and see if this be the woman that you have seen hurting you.”

  Sarah stood and walked to stand in front of Mary. Pointing in her face, she turned and looked out at the audience. “This woman has threatened me with her witchcraft.”

  “What do you say now, Mary Wilds? You have been accused to your face.” Judge Hauthorn waited for her reply.

  “I never did hurt Sarah Nichols in my life. I am as innocent as the child unborn.” Mary continued to stare at the woman with the cloth on her face. In the midst of all that was taking place she felt herself crying out from her soul. “I know you, are you here to save me?”

  “Mary Wilds! What contract have you made with the devil?

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bsp; “I have made no contract with the devil. I never saw him in my life.” Still, her eyes could not break contact with the girl in the back of the room.

  Their eyes embraced. Fern could hear every word, and every cry for help that Mary had somehow sent her way. She sat glued to her seat as she listened to the judge, unable to act or cry out for the insanity to stop.

  “What say you to all this that you are charged with? Can you not find in your heart to tell the truth, Mary Wilds?”

  “I do tell the truth, I never hurt Sarah Nichols in my life.” Her mind screamed louder. “I do not know why or how you are here, but I beg of you. Go, find my child and keep her safe. My mother loves me dearly, but she will not allow my child to live if she has a good heart.”

  “Tell us the truth in this matter, Mary Wilds. How come Sarah Nichols be thus tormented and to charge you with doing witchcraft, if it be not true?”

  “I am not come here to say I am a witch to take away my life.”

  “Then who is it then? If you do not, they say it is your likeness that comes and torments Sarah Nichols, then who is it?”

  “I know nothing of it, I am innocent.” “I do know you. You can save us.”

  Fern felt as if the floor was swaying underneath them. Mary was speaking to her in her mind, telling her what to do. Reaching out, she took hold of Rowen’s knee for support. She noticed the scathing look of disapproval from the woman sitting across from them and pulled it away.

  “Do you not see how tormented you are as you practice witchcraft before us? What do you say to this, why have you not a heart to confess the truth?”

  “I am innocent. I know nothing of it. I am no witch, I know not what a witch is.”

  “Have you not given consent that some evil spirit should do this in your likeness?”

 

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