“I dread to think,” he murmured.
Chapter 20
Alice spent most of her time the next few days at the squalid jail, determined to make Mary as comfortable as possible. Chris, meantime, harangued against the imprisonment of the governor’s wife, barging into the offices of government officials and clergymen alike as he fought for her release.
But Sir William had not returned, and the accusations, the trials, and the hangings continued. September’s cooling breezes gave way to the chill of early October, promising a cold and gruesome winter unless things changed for the better.
Alice was distraught over more than the uncertainty of her friend’s fate. She had learned, the first day she visited Mary, that the woman whose child she’d helped deliver had never been released and had died only days after giving birth. Even with the death of the mother, officials refused to release the baby from prison, stating that it was the offspring of an accused witch’s tainted body and would have to stand trial in her stead.
“Can you imagine such a thing, Alice?” Mary said during one of their visits. “Less than a month old and the infant’s to go before her judges. Perhaps God will be merciful and the baby will follow her mother shortly.”
“Mary, don’t talk that way,” Alice replied. “When Will gets back…”
Mary shook her head and smiled wistfully. “If Will gets back, you mean. We have to face the possibility, my dear, that something dreadful may have happened. We both know he should have returned by now.”
Alice went into Mary’s arms, feeling the ache of unshed tears in her heart.
The surly guard who had accosted Alice several weeks before continued to harass her. Now he stepped into Mary’s cell and said, “Time’s up, pretty lady. I’ll see you out so’s none of the prisoners pesters you.”
Alice rose slowly. “I’ll see myself out, if you don’t mind.”
“Happens as though I do mind.” He gripped her arm and dragged her from the cell.
“You leave her be!” Mary demanded.
He glared at her. “Shut your trap, you old witch!”
As the man hauled her through the jail, Alice decided to take advantage of the moment. “That baby whose mother died, where is she?”
“What’s it to you?”
“I helped with the birthing. I’d like to see her.”
“What’d it be worth to me?”
“I have a right to visit whomever I please.”
“Not if I say otherwise, you don’t. If I let you see it, you got to do something for me.” He smiled his crooked smile at her and added, “Something real nice.”
Just then Alice heard the weak wail of the infant. She turned toward the sound and spied the tiny girl lying in a pile of dirty straw. Jerking free from the guard, she ran to the child and picked her up.
“Why, you’re letting her starve to death!” Alice accused.
The guard pulled open his filthy shirt to display a flea-bitten chest matted with coarse hair. “I ain’t exactly got no teats on me. See?”
Alice looked away. “Aren’t there any nursing mothers here?”
“None willing to suckle no bitch witch.”
Alice winced at the term, but hid her feelings well as she said matter-of-factly, “Then I’ll take her home with me.
“Like hell!” The guard snatched the infant from Alice’s arms and tossed her as if she were a rag doll back into the pile of straw. “I ain’t getting my ass chewed for letting that one go missing.”
The baby was screaming from the guard’s rough handling. “Make it shut up, for chrissakes!” he said. “I can’t stand that bawling.”
An idea began taking shape in Alice’s mind. “All right,” she said, “I’ll just sit here and hold her until she falls asleep. You can go on about your duties.”
The guard had no intention of moving from the spot as long as Alice remained there, but when his superior called him to one of the back cells, he was forced to leave her alone with the baby. The moment she was out of his line of vision, Alice slipped the infant into her basket and fled.
All the way home she thought about Chris. She had yet to tell him she was carrying his child. What would he say when she showed up with this shriveled little stranger? It didn’t matter. She was only concerned with getting the baby home where they would both be safe.
That evening Gunn’s efforts in Mary’s behalf finally proved fruitful. She was released in his custody. Chris brought her home himself and insisted that she join them for one of Mignette’s delicious meals.
As happy as she was to see Mary out of jail, Alice was under a strain all through supper. She’d had no chance to tell Chris about the baby. Mignette had the infant in her room—cleaned and fed and sleeping soundly at the moment. But how long could that last? Any second now she would wake up again, hungry and screaming.
“Well, I can tell you both, I’ve had quite an experience these past days,” Mary said. “Not one I’d like to repeat, I’ll admit.”
“I’m glad to see you don’t look any worse for it,” Chris said cheerfully. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t get you released sooner.”
“As I’ve said before, I’m a tough old bird.” She frowned. “I just wish my cock would get himself home to the roost.”
“He’ll come sailing in any day now, Mary,” Chris assured her. “Don’t fret, just help yourself to some more chowder.”
“I believe I will.” Mary reached for the china tureen. “Alice, this is divine.”
“What?” Mary’s comment brought Alice’s attention abruptly back to the table. “Oh, yes, it’s one of Mignette’s specialties.”
“Where is the girl tonight?” Mary asked. “I’ve hardly seen her at all. Usually, she hovers about so.”
“She has something to take care of in her room,” Alice answered quickly.
“You should have stayed longer this afternoon, Alice,” Mary said, trying to change the subject. “We had quite a bit of excitement at the jail.”
“Really,” Alice answered without much interest.
“Yes. That baby you delivered has disappeared. One moment it was there and the next it was gone. Odd, isn’t it? The guards claimed the wee thing was still there, lost somewhere under the straw. When I left, they were pitching out every cell, searching for the child. You’ll be happy to know that rude fellow got blamed since the baby was in his charge.”
“Did he have anything to say about the incident?” Alice asked, extremely curious.
“He finally admitted to having left the infant alone with a woman who’d been visiting the prisoners earlier. He’s certain she stole the baby.”
“Oh?” Alice said, forcing a smile. “How interesting.”
Mary leaned closer. “You wouldn’t know anything about it, would you, Alice?”
“Who me?”
Mary dropped the subject then, to Alice’s relief. She would tell Chris, but she wanted to choose exactly the right moment.
Mary left soon after dinner was finished. Alice and Chris watched until she was safely in her house, then Chris closed and latched the door. Slipping his arms around his wife, he held her against him and sighed.
“Well, that’s the end of that,” he said. “Now that Mary’s safe and sound, I can concentrate on other things.”
“Such as?” Alice asked coyly.
“Such as this,” he replied, untying his wife’s bodice and slipping a hand inside to find her warm breast.
“Chris,” Alice scolded, “what if Mignette comes in?”
“She’s a well-trained servant. She’ll ignore us, darling.”
He covered her mouth with his to silence any further protests. As his tongue caressed hers, Alice found herself beyond protesting. For the past days they’d both been too worried about Mary to think of anything else. Now Alice forgot everything—even the baby sleeping in Mignette’s room—in her need to be loved by her husband.
Her back was to the closed doo
r. Chris was leaning hard against her, his body so tightly pressed to hers that she could feel his urgent heat. She caught his hands and drew them away from her breasts. In turn he grasped her wrists, pinning them to each side of her head against the smooth wood. Holding her prisoner, he kissed her deeply, then let his mouth trail down her neck to the soft valley between her breasts.
“Darling,” she gasped. “Oh, Chris, darling, you’re making me crazy.”
He lifted his head and smiled into her eyes, his own half closed. “Good,” he whispered. “I like my woman wild and crazy.”
He leaned over to kiss her wrist, then let the tip of his tongue smooth down the tender flesh of her arm.
Alice moaned softly. “You’ve never done that before.”
“There are lots of things I’ve never done before, love. Maybe, if you behave, I’ll show you a few of them this very night.”
Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the stairs. Alice leaned against him, kissing his neck, shivering at the thought of how wonderful the next hours would be. After they’d made love, she’d remember to tell him about their baby and the one sleeping downstairs.
Their bedroom was washed in a soft, rosy hue from the fire crackling in the grate. Outside a cold wind moaned, but inside it was warm and comfy. Instead of putting Alice on the bed, Chris set her on her feet before the fire. Slowly he began undressing her. She stood very still, trembling as his gentle hands worked over her—unlacing, unbuttoning, stripping away layer after layer until she stood before him, naked, a blush from the flames softly tinting her skin.
“You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen,” Chris whispered in reverent awe.
For several moments he stood away from her, only his hungry eyes devouring her. Then he gripped her slender waist and drew her close. His mouth went to her breasts—licking, suckling, nibbling—until Alice lay weak with need in his arms.
“Please, my darling,” she whimpered. “I can’t take much more of this.”
He lowered her to the fur rug before the fire and sank down beside her, quickly shedding his own clothes. Once he was nude, Alice turned over and pressed her palms to his chest, holding him her prisoner.
“Now you’ll see what it’s like to be tortured with love, you great heathen.”
Alice kissed his face, his ears, his neck. He writhed beneath her, protesting at each new assault, but she was relentless. When she sank her teeth into his nipple, he howled and broke her hold.
“So that’s the way it’s to be, eh?” he growled. “Well, then…”
Holding her down, he straddled her, letting her feel his readiness, but not giving her what she desired. His mouth went again to her breasts, teasing at first, then suckling deeply.
Alice felt as if she would indeed go crazy. She ached to have him inside her, but he continued his love play. When he drew away from her breasts, she moaned with disappointment.
“Bite me,” she begged. “Oh, bite me, darling.”
Chris did as she asked, nipping her breasts all over, sending exquisite little bursts through her whole body.
At last he sank into her—slowly, smoothly, deeply. Alice called out his name and clung to him. The fire flickering beside them seemed now to be burning within her own soul.
They had yet to give up their intimate embrace when they heard the pounding at their front door.
“Who the hell could that be at this time of night?” Chris groaned and rolled away from Alice.
He pulled on his britches and hurried downstairs while Alice was dressing. Waiting outside, he found a constable and the head jailor.
“We believe you’re harboring a criminal here, sir,” the officer said.
“I’m doing no such thing. If you mean Lady Phips, she was released earlier today. She’s no more a criminal than you or I.”
Alice slipped down the stairs in time to hear the man say, “It ain’t the governor’s wife we’re looking for. We’ll be searching the premises. Stand aside.”
Without waiting for an answer, the two men pushed past Gunn.
“Chris, don’t let them come in,” Alice begged, knowing what they would find.
He put his arm around her, trying to calm her. “Darling, it seems there’s not a thing I can do to stop them.”
Both Chris and Alice froze as the infant’s wails reached their ears.
“What the hell?” Chris muttered.
“It’s the baby Mary was talking about at supper,” Alice confessed in a whisper. “Chris, I was going to tell you upstairs. She was starving in that jail. Something had to be done.”
“Something, yes, Alice, but to allow her to be brought here?” He shook his head. “What could you have been thinking?”
The two men returned to the dining room. The jailor had the child in his grasp, while the constable kept a firm grip on Mignette’s arm.
“We’ll be taking them both, Mr. Gunn. Your serving woman here admitted to stealing the bitch witch. Judging from them heathen articles we found in the woman’s room, I’d say the both of them are in league with the devil.”
In spite of the dire circumstances Chris felt a sense of relief. He’d assumed Alice meant she had taken the baby.
“No,” Alice cried, “Mignette didn’t—”
The almond-skinned woman cast a pleading gaze toward her mistress, begging silently with her eyes to be allowed to do this for Alice.
“That woman is my property,” Chris said. “You can’t just take her from my house this way.”
“You’ll get a receipt, all legal and proper, Mr. Gunn,” said the jailor, “but it seems to me you’d be relieved we’re taking her off your hands. These Carib Indian women can be right dangerous.”
“Mignette, you can’t do this,” Alice said quietly. “I won’t let you take the blame for me.” Turning to the men, she said, “I took the child.”
“No!” Mignette cried. “My mistress is only trying to protect me. It is no use, madame. I have already told them the whole truth.”
Alice started to renew her protests, but a sharp look from her husband silenced her. She watched helplessly as the two men took Mignette and the baby away. Once they were gone, Chris turned to her, his face pale with a mixture of anger and fear for his wife.
“Alice, why on earth would you do such a thing?”
“I couldn’t just stand by and watch that baby starve to death.”
He stared at her, his deep green eyes widening in disbelief. “I meant why would you tell such a dangerous lie to try to protect Mignette? Do you mean you were telling the truth about taking the child yourself?”
She nodded. “The child wouldn’t have survived in that awful place another day.”
Chris turned toward the stairs, and Alice followed him. The moment they entered the bedroom, he pulled out a satchel and began throwing clothes into it.
“What are you doing?” Alice demanded.
“Get your things packed. We’re leaving Boston. Now!”
“No, Chris. We can’t go. Why would you even suggest such a thing? You know we agreed not to desert Mary while Will’s away.”
“We’ll take her with us.” Chris stopped his packing and turned to her. Reaching out, he drew Alice close and hugged her in desperation. “Darling, it’s you I’m worried about. I have to get you away from this hellish place before you get yourself into real trouble. I thought you were being careful. This stunt today proves that I was wrong.”
Alice jerked away from him. “It was no stunt. I helped that child into this world and now that her mother’s gone, I feel responsible. And what about Mignette? She took the blame to spare me. What kind of ogre do you take me for, thinking that I’d leave that poor girl after what she’s done for me?”
“I’m sure Mignette would agree with me. Her sacrifice will be for nothing unless I get you away from here.”
“And where do you plan to take me?” Alice demanded.
“Anywher
e away from here.”
Alice guessed he meant to head back to Maine, back to the woods. In her present condition such a trip would be long and miserable. But Chris was right. If they didn’t get away, she ran the risk of losing their child before it could be born. She’d seen her mother hanged, and she refused to impose the same fate on her unborn child.
“I’ll go wherever you wish, darling,” she whispered. “Nothing else matters as long as we’re together.”
He caught her in his arms and kissed her deeply. “I wish we had time to—”
Alice shook her head. “No, my darling. I’m afraid our time is running out.”
Less than an hour later Chris had their wagon loaded and ready to go. Alice was still inside trying to catch her cat, who obviously did not wish to make the trip. Gunn headed toward Mary’s house to tell her it was time to leave. He was just knocking at the door when another wagon drew up before his house. Three men hurried across the yard.
Alice heard the pounding below and called out, “I’m coming, darling.”
She tucked the squirming cat under her arm as she opened the door. Two clergymen and John Hawthorne, the magistrate who had taken Mary away, stood before her.
“Goodwife Gunn?” said Hawthorne.
She nodded. “You have news of my servant? She’s being released?” she asked hopefully.
Hawthorne exchanged glances with the two clergymen accompanying him. “That’s not why we’re here.”
“What’s going on?” Chris demanded, shoving his way between the men to get to his wife. “What are you doing at my house this time of night?”
Again, the men looked at each other, suspicious gleams in their eyes. “One might ask, Mr. Gunn, where are you going this time of night?” Hawthorne countered.
“I don’t see that that’s any of your affair,” Chris snapped.
“It is when your wife is suspect, sir.”
“Suspected of what?” Alice asked, a cold dread creeping through her.
“You have been accused of witchcraft by two parties,” Hawthorne explained. “The bitch witch died a short time ago. Afterward, your serving woman, with certain persuasion, finally admitted that you, not she, took the child. According to the guard whose care she was under, the infant was in perfect health until you stole her away. He claims you cast a death spell over her. Her death, your involvement in it, and the guard’s testimony will go hard against you, I’m afraid.”
Silver Tears Page 32