Silver Tears

by Weyrich, Becky Lee

  Mary bustled out of the room, leaving patient and physician alone. Alice smiled up into his kindly brown eyes.

  “You needn’t examine me,” she said, “I can tell you my problem.”

  He returned her smile. “And have you been experiencing queasiness each morning with these dizzy spells, Mrs. Gunn?

  She laughed softly. “How did you know?”

  “Young lady, I haven’t practiced medicine these fifty-odd years without learning the look of a woman who’s in a family way. There’s a certain rosiness to the cheeks, a glitter to the eyes. How many months has it been?”

  “June, I believe, is when it happened.” She smiled again, thinking back to their first morning in this house, in this very bed. Yes, that had to be the time.

  “No other complaints besides the nausea and occasional faintness?”

  “None. I feel wonderful, otherwise.”

  “Well, then, stay out of this heat, away from that dreadful jail, and eat your vegetables, Mrs. Gunn. If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to send for me. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go visit that new baby you delivered this morning and see for myself what kind of midwife you are.”

  He started to leave, but Alice caught his sleeve. “One thing more, Dr. Witherspoon, please don’t tell anyone about my condition just yet.”

  His surprise showed on his weathered face. “Why on earth not? I’d think you’d be overjoyed at the prospect of bearing your first child.”

  “Oh, I am,” she assured him. “Truly, I am. But if my husband finds out, he’ll cancel all our plans. We’re to have a housewarming gala in a few days. You will come, won’t you? I’ll tell Chris myself once the party is over, but he mustn’t find out before then. As for Lady Mary, if she knew, she’d be unable to keep it to herself.”

  He chuckled and winked at Alice. “It will be our secret for the time being, I promise you, Mrs. Gunn. As for your party, I’ll be delighted to attend. Thank you.”

  Chris burst into the room at that moment. “Alice, darling, are you all right?” He came to her and kissed her gently, searching her face for any sign of serious illness. But he saw only her rosy cheeks, her glittering blue eyes, her reassuring smile. “Thank God,” he breathed.

  “Your wife is merely suffering from fatigue and a touch too much sun,” the doctor told Chris. “I’ve advised her to stay indoors and take things a bit easier for a few days.”

  “We’ll cancel the party,” Chris said immediately.

  “No,” Alice cried, rising up in bed.

  “Your wife’s right, Mr. Gunn. There’s no need to put off your planned festivities. I for one would be sorely disappointed. Your lovely wife has invited me to attend.”

  “Well… ” Chris said uncertainly.

  “Please, darling,” Alice begged. “I’ll be fine. If anything happens, Dr. Witherspoon will be right here to take care of me.”

  The old physician nodded and smiled. “Nothing will happen to her,” he assured the worried husband.

  “Very well. But Alice, you’re not to stir from this bed until the night of the party. Mignette can take care of everything. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Alice replied, stroking the black cat that had curled up beside her and was glaring at the two men.

  News of more hangings in Salem marred the day of the Gunns’ party. Otherwise, it was a fine, cool evening in late September and everything was in readiness. The painters had finished, and the house gleamed with Alice’s beautiful crystal and silver, while rich tapestries glowed on the walls. Wonderful smells issued from the kitchen, and Christopher Gunn’s finest old wines from the cellar awaited their uncorking.

  Alice had been concerned that the dress she’d had made especially for this occasion might no longer fit. But her body remained slender, hiding her precious secret even from her husband. The royal-blue velvet of her gown fit to perfection, drifting softly down over her hips and cascading like folds of night sky to the tips of her silver slippers. A falling band of silver lace as delicate as a spider’s web caressed her bare shoulders and snuggled temptingly at the deep crevice between her full breasts.

  The moment Mignette finished dressing her and left the bedroom, the door opened again.

  “I shouldn’t have come in here.” Chris’s gravelly voice made Alice turn. Her smile showered him with love.

  “Whyever not, my darling?”

  “I should have waited for you downstairs.” He backed away as if he meant to leave.

  “Chris? What’s wrong?” Alice asked.

  “What’s wrong is that you are too beautiful, too tempting to be real. But you are real—warm, soft, flesh and blood, and, though I still find it hard to believe, you’re all mine. My darling, you look far too bewitching in that gown for your own good. I have the most powerful urge at the moment to strip it from you, tear away the lace, and tumble you in your stockings and petticoats as if you were a shamelessly lusty bar wench and I a starved suitor with no morals nor inhibitions to my name.”

  Alice hid her blush behind her silver fan. “Oh, how you do go on, Christopher Gunn.”

  “You’d better send me away this minute, I’m warning you.” As he spoke he moved toward her.

  When he reached for her, Alice stepped back. “Don’t you dare muss my gown.”

  His fingers closed on the softly knotted lace at her bosom. “I don’t want you to cover up such a lovely sight.” He untied the falling band and whisked it from her shoulders. At first only his eyes caressed her flesh, then his fingertips moved across the tops of her breasts, making Alice quiver and sigh.

  “Chris, we haven’t time,” she murmured. “Our guests will be arriving any moment.”

  Now his lips were on her breasts, smoothing soft kisses over her softer skin.

  “I know, I know,” he whispered. “Why do you have to be so damned lovely, so damned warm, so damned tempting?”

  By the time he finished with her, Alice would have gladly sent down word to Mignette for their guests that the party was cancelled. But Chris finally drew away, after kissing her mouth one last time.

  “I’m sorry, darling,” he said. “I didn’t meant to start something we couldn’t finish. I only came up here to give you a gift. I had the jeweler conspire with your dressmaker, and they both assured me these will match your gown.”

  He handed her a blue velvet box. Alice opened it to find a bib of silver and sparkling sapphires with earrings to match. “Oh, Chris, how lovely,” she murmured.

  He clasped the necklace for her, then let his hands rest on her bare shoulders as they both stood before the looking glass, admiring the blue fire blazing from her throat.

  “You’re right, darling, they’re perfect,” Alice said, “but I think my gown is cut too low without the lace.”

  His eyes strayed to her bosom and he smiled. “Only low enough to make every other man jealous of me tonight.” He nibbled at the dimple in her shoulder. “Leave off the lace, love. For me?”

  “Oh, very well,” Alice said, laughing. “If you want me to be the scandal of all Boston, it’s on your head.”

  Chris was about to take his wife in his arms once more when they heard the door open downstairs.

  “Our first guests,” Alice whispered. “Darling, we must go down now.”

  Chris groaned, but left off fondling her. He was inclined to groan again when he saw the first arrivals were none other than Captain and Mrs. Jonathan Hargrave.

  “I’m sorry we’re here early, but it’s such a long drive from the farm that we allowed a little more time than was needed.” Hargrave offered his lukewarm apology as soon as he spied their hosts coming down the stairs, but actually, he’d been too eager to see Alice again to wait a moment longer. But upon seeing her his heart sank. He could easily guess what she and her husband had been up to as he took note of Alice’s flushed cheeks and bosom along with the gleam in her blue eyes.

  “That’s quite all right, Jon,” Alice answered.
“Someone surely has to be the first to arrive. Mrs. Hargrave, may I call you Prudence? I hope we’ll become good friends.”

  The tiny, black-clad woman’s disapproving gaze was glued to Alice’s low bodice. “You may call me whatever you like, Mrs. Gunn,” she stated without a trace of warmth in her voice.

  So be it, Mrs. Hargrave, Alice thought. We’ll do this your way.

  Aware that the woman’s eyes were still on her bosom, Alice fingered the bib of sapphires, pretending she thought the look directed at her jewels. “My husband surprised me with this wonderful necklace tonight. Isn’t it lovely? He’s such a thoughtful man.”

  Mrs. Hargrave’s bony hand went to the plain, high collar of her black dress. “It’s always been my opinion that a woman’s shining goodness is all the adornment she needs.”

  “Prudence!” Jon Hargrave reprimanded.

  “Your wife is quite right, actually,” Chris said in a pleasant tone. “I have to admit my disappointment when I first saw these jewels nestling there against Alice’s breasts.” He ignored Mrs. Hargrave’s shocked intake of breath when he plainly spoke of his wife’s anatomy. “I paid a fortune for that necklace, only to have its luster pale beside my dear wife’s shining goodness.”

  “Nicely put, Gunn,” Hargrave agreed. Prudence glared at him.

  Trying to dispel the tension in the room, Alice ushered everyone into the dining room to fill their plates.

  “Mignette is a marvelous cook,” Alice told them. “She claims she uses native spices and herbs. Personally, I’ve never seen any of these ingredients. I’m almost inclined to think she simply whispers some island magic over every dish to enhance the flavor.”

  Mrs. Hargrave’s hand stopped midway to her mouth. She eyed the morsel of pastry between her fingers, then dropped it, untasted, to her china plate.

  Mary Phips didn’t bother to knock at the Gunns’ front door. She rushed in, a beaming vision in golden brocade lavished with gilt braid and rubies from her husband’s Caribbean treasure trove.

  “My dears, am I late?”

  Chris embraced her warmly. “Mary, you know no party could begin until you’ve arrived. Welcome!”

  Mary turned to Alice and cried out, ecstatic at the sight of her. “My girl, you look as fine as a queen. Oh, to be young and in love and in the full bloom of beauty again. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Hargrave?”

  “It’s always been my opinion,” the sour-faced woman replied, “that beauty is only skin deep and youth is a time of waste and foolishness. As for love, Lady Phips, that should be reserved for God alone.”

  “Oh?” the surprised Mary questioned. “Oh, really?”

  “Prudence,” Jon whispered, ushering his wife away from the group, “I think everyone would like to enjoy themselves tonight, and they’ve had quite their fill of your opinions this evening.”

  “I told you I didn’t want to come,” she hissed. “How can these people be so mindlessly frivolous when witches are rampant in the land?”

  “Prudence, please,” Hargrave moaned. “If you don’t care to be sociable, go and warm yourself by the fire in the parlor.”

  Jon’s wife did as he suggested, but only because it pleased her to do so. She could still see and hear everything that went on in the next room, but she could also observe them all unnoticed. She knew that her husband had once been enamored of Mrs. Gunn. And by watching Alice closely as more guests arrived, she could see for herself how the sly girl paid special attention to each of the men. It was no wonder Jonathan had been taken in by her so easily. Imagine displaying one’s chest so shamelessly! All the men, her own husband included, kept staring. No doubt, she mused, the captain would expect sexual gratification when they reached home tonight. Well, he would be sorely disappointed. She refused to satisfy the passions aroused by another woman.

  The very thought of passion and such made Prudence feel guilty and dirty. She drew her prayer book out of her pocket and read rapidly, trying to cleanse her mind. After a time she felt much purer and went back to her eavesdropping.

  Prudence watched with growing alarm as her husband took their hostess aside for a private chat. Annoyingly, they had moved far enough away to keep their conversation between themselves, but she could tell by the smile on the captain’s face that he was enjoying himself immensely.

  When Prudence saw her husband lean close in order to whisper something for Alice’s ears alone, she decided it was time she moved in closer. Pretending to admire the furnishings and wall hangings, she rose and made her way back to the dining room. To her disappointment, by the time she reached them, Jonathan had left their hostess to speak with Dr. Witherspoon. Alice had walked over to Chris and clung to her own husband’s arm. As Prudence watched, Chris bent down and kissed his wife full on the lips.

  “Public uncleanness,” Goodwife Hargrave muttered under her breath, incensed.

  “I’d hardly term a sweet kiss between husband and wife in those words, Mrs. Hargrave.”

  Prudence spun around to find Mary Phips at her elbow, her eyes dark with anger.

  “You approve of such a display, Lady Phips? I’m surprised. I’d have thought our governor’s wife above such disgusting things.”

  “I pity your poor husband, Mrs. Hargrave, if you find true love disgusting,” Mary said plainly. “A warning: the cold wife often finds her spouse committing ‘uncleannesses,’ as you say, with a more willing woman. I’ve been told that you and Jonathan were sweethearts when you were very young. You might do better to search your heart to recapture the tenderness he admired in you so long ago.”

  “Well… I never!” Prudence stammered, then she turned and fled from Mary.

  Long after the last guest had departed, Alice and Chris snuggled before the fire in the front parlor. They went over every detail of the evening before finally pronouncing their first gala a total, resounding success.

  “I think perhaps even Prudence Hargrave enjoyed herself—in spite of herself,” Chris said with a laugh.

  Alice shook her head and sighed. “I can’t agree, I’m afraid. It seemed every time I turned around her disapproving eyes were fixed on me. The woman absolutely makes me shudder, Chris. How could Jonathan have married her?”

  “You heard his story. They almost married years ago, but he broke it off to go back to sea. She subsequently married… and married… and married. When he heard of her whereabouts and that she was recently widowed, he proposed again in a letter. She accepted. He could hardly run out on her again, even after he realized what a mistake he’d made.”

  “I don’t think he sees her as she is now,” Alice mused. “He seems quite content and spoke of her to me in the most glowing terms.”

  “I think the man’s a fine actor, and I really feel sorry for him. How could he not see what a hag she is?” He leaned over and kissed Alice softly. “Ready to go up to bed, darling?”

  “Hmmm.” She sighed and stretched. “It’s so nice here, though. A moment longer, love. Kiss me again.”

  They were lost in their own world when the rude interruption came. A wagon rumbled up outside.

  “Who on earth?” Alice whispered, already frantically guessing the answer to her own question.

  Chris rose and went to the window to look out. “Two ministers and a magistrate.” His words came out hollow with fear for his wife.

  “No!” Alice gasped, experiencing a rush of all the old terror she’d known back in England. “They’re coming for me, Chris. Oh, darling, what can we do?”

  “You’re wrong,” he answered in a confused tone. “They’re going to Mary’s door.”

  “Something’s happened to Will. Oh, Chris, we’d better get over there right now.”

  They arrived at the Phips house to find Mary in her night-robe confronted by the three solemn-looking men.

  “Lady Mary Phips,” intoned John Hawthorne, the magistrate, “you are accused of maleficium, the causing of harm to a fellow human being by supernatural and devilish means.�
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  “Don’t be ridiculous!” she replied. “Should I wish harm to anyone, I would not need to resort to seeking help from the devil. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’d like to go back to sleep. I’m not used to these late hours.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Lady Phips,” one of the pair of clergymen said. “You are charged with witchcraft. Do you wish at this moment to recant your pact with the devil?”

  “I do not, sir.”

  “Then I’m afraid you give me no choice,” Hawthorne said. “You will come along with us.”

  “You’re not taking her anywhere,” Chris told them. “Lady Mary is the governor’s wife, after all, well respected and, as such, above suspicion.”

  “No one is above suspicion, sir,” Hawthorne replied, letting his gaze slide meaningfully to Alice, who stood beside her husband.

  “Who would have made such an outrageous accusation?” Chris demanded.

  “Goodwife Prudence Hargrave is at death’s door even as I speak after having been threatened by Lady Phips earlier this evening. Worse yet, the governor’s wife actually predicted that Captain Hargrave would commit uncleannesses with another female, and so it has come to pass. Along the way home Captain Hargrave stopped their wagon at a tavern, claiming to be in need of medicinal bitters. His wife remained, thinking he would return directly. When he was not forthcoming, she entered the place only to find her husband in the arms of a bar wench, whereupon she fell to the floor in a fit and became deathly ill.”

  “What the hell does any of this have to do with Lady Phips?” Gunn roared.

  “Never mind, Christopher,” Mary said resignedly. “I will do what I must do. William will return any day now and put an end to all this foolishness.”

  “Mary, no,” Alice murmured, going into her friend’s arms. “You can’t allow them to take you to that awful jail.”

  “It seems I have little to say in the matter, my dear.”

  A short time later Alice and Chris watched helplessly as Mary was carted off to prison.

  Alice leaned her head against her husband’s chest. “Whatever will happen next, darling?”