Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins

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Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins Page 30

by Margeaux Laurent


  Becky just looked at me with the same look she would give Isaac if he were being disobedient, “Get over here Aislin,” she said.

  “I don't want to leave you. You and Isaac are the only things that bring me any joy,” I sobbed.

  Becky put her hand on my shoulder, her eyes filled with tears, but she swallowed hard and spoke, “I will miss you Aislin. You are my sister and that will never change,” she pulled me into a hug.

  She reached past me and took the corset and undergarments from the bed.

  “I have to do this. Please, let's not fight in our last hours together,” she pleaded.

  I sank onto the bed and did not complain any further. It did not matter where I went anyway. Nothing mattered anymore.

  She finished my hair, leaving the bottom half flowing down my back and over my shoulder and the top part cascading down on top of it. Then she powdered my face, added a crimson berry juice to my lips to stain them deep red, and started pulling on my corset. I clutched onto the bedpost while she laced it tight. My ribs were improved, but not enough to make this experience anywhere near pleasant.

  Finally, she took the gown off the bed and helped me step into it. I remembered this material as I ran my fingers along the bodice—it was the silk that Greer had purchased for me.

  My heart fluttered and I turned to Becky with a hopeful expression. She kept her eyes down, but a smile was creasing the sides of her mouth.

  “Becky?” I closed my eyes as I felt butterflies filled my stomach, “Is this my wedding gown?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Look,” she said, as she directed me to the mirror.

  I lost my breath when I saw my reflection. It was the identical dress that I had been wearing in the painting that hung in Greer's castle.

  “I had a dream about this dress,” my mother said, as she moved into the room. “Its style is very old, not updated at all. Yet, it suits you,” she smiled.

  My shoulders were bare, but long strips of material ran down to my knuckles in long flowing bell sleeves. A cape was clasped to my bodice so my shoulders were not fully exposed and on the edges of the cape, and the base of the gown, were white and gold Celtic knots embroidered into the border.

  “Thank you,” I breathed, as I ran to embrace my mother. She held me close to her and kissed my forehead. “Now, your father thinks that I am taking you to Philadelphia to stay with the Minister’s close friends, and to find you a match. Do not disrupt this story. You must not act as though you will never see him again,” she was trying to remain strong, but I could see the sadness coming through.

  I realized it then. I was not coming back. I would never see my family again.

  “This is your destiny Aislin. You need to go.” She placed my dark green cloak over my shoulders and fastened it.

  “Do not forget your book,” she whispered.

  ********************

  My farewell to my father was bittersweet, he did not understand my tears as I hugged him, but he gladly received my warmth.

  I took a moment to look around the house one last time and as the carriage carried me away, I craned my head around and strained to burn the images of Burlington in my mind.

  Becky and my mother sat with me, my trunks of possessions piled between us. The carriage rustled and shifted as the horses moved in haste to get to the port. The ship would be leaving in only an hour's time.

  “What will happen to Isaac and Pete?” I asked Becky.

  “They are still the property of the Smiths, so until they are freed I will stay here,” she said.

  I looked down with a defeated expression.

  “Do not fret Aislin. My freedom is a good start for us. Things will get better now,” she clasped my hand in hers from across the carriage.

  As we passed through Burlington, I noticed that a peace seemed to fill the place. Children ran in the streets, townspeople laughed and went about their business. Spring would be here soon and everyone could feel the promise of its impending warmth.

  “Life goes on,” my mother said to herself, “Life always goes on.”

  ********************

  The carriage pulled up to the port and a young boy of about eleven, met us right away. He took a note from my mother and read it carefully. His hands were scarred from rope burns, and his fingernails dirty. This young boy worked hard for a living.

  I watched as his light brown eyes moved from the note, to the deck of the ship. He put two fingers to his lips and let out an earsplitting whistle. Within seconds, we saw four large men walk down the ramp to greet us. The men we tattooed, scrappy, and bulky. Greer was not amongst them. From where I stood below the ship, I searched the deck for him, but could not find him. I was growing anxious, but sat back obediently as the men unloaded all my possessions.

  “This way,” said the young boy, as he gestured for us to follow him up the ramp and onto the ship.

  The ships sails were tall and the deck was bustling with men at work. I did not see another passenger in sight.

  “Watch your step,” the boy warned, as we moved about the slippery deck.

  I placed my hand on the planked wall to steady myself and I placed my other hand on my stomach as it began fluttering harder with every step I took closer to my love.

  “This will be the death of me,” my mother grimaced.

  The ship swayed back and forth in the water. Becky reached for the wall a few times to steady herself and my mother clinched her fists tightly. She had many reasons to hate being on a ship.

  The corridor was dark and covered in wooden planks from top to bottom, we passed one onlooker after another until the boy finally stopped and knocked on a narrow wooden door. It swung open immediately. He was standing just inside the doorway.

  “Greer!” I cried out rapturously, as I leapt into his arms.

  He smiled at me with great joy as he pulled me into an inviting hug, “I have missed you so much!” he said as he held me close to him, resting his lips in my hair.

  My mother and Becky entered the room, and the shipmen followed behind with my trunks.

  “Put them over there,” Greer pointed to the wall across from the bed on the left side of the room, but his eyes never left mine.

  The shipmen placed all my things where Greer had asked and then left, shutting the door behind them.

  Becky and my mother went into the trunks and started puling out items. Candles, rope, and a broom were placed on the bed.

  Greer continued to shower me with kisses as they busied themselves. While we were lost in our moment, I felt something brush up against my leg. A soft meow came from the ground.

  “Sneachta!” I exclaimed. I picked her up and cuddled her in my arms.

  “She has been taking care of me ever since that night with the soldiers,” Greer pet her head lovingly as he spoke.

  “What happened to you?” I asked, while trying to conceal my anguish.

  Greer took a deep breath and folded my hands into his.

  “I was surrounded by soldiers. They kept coming from the tree line and no matter how many I took down, more showed up in their place. They shot me numerous times without much effect, but they were relentless. I became worn down and was weakened by their blows. Finally, one of the men hit me on the back of the head with something heavy and I was knocked unconscious.

  “When I awoke, I found that they had bound me and locked me in a small chamber in the cellar of the Governor's home. They left me alone while they went to fetch the Minister They knew that they could not handle me alone and wanted spiritual help before they tried to interrogate me.

  “Sneachta found me. I suppose she had followed the soldiers when they had carried me off. She brought me small animals to feed on until I could gather enough strength to break out of the cell.

  “Days later, after the Minister felt he had spent enough time to prepare, they came to interrogate me. They sent their largest guards to pull me from my cell, but even in my injured state, they were not enough to restrain me.

 
; “Sneachta led me through a cellar door and out to safety. She had found an old cave that she guided me to and then, for the next month, she brought me food and did her best to keep me warm. She is a remarkable cat,” he added amorously, as he gazed upon her.

  “It is time,” my mother said.

  I looked around the room and saw that candles were everywhere. My mother was going to each one and lighting it.

  “I can do that,” I said.

  I swept my hand through the air and all the candles sparkled and flickered with golden warmth.

  Greer smiled, “You are getting to be very good at that, my love.”

  Becky walked up behind me and unclasped my cloak; my white silk gown was now exposed.

  Greer's eyes widened and then welled up with tears, “It is the very same dress . . .” he smiled, “you look so beautiful.”

  I reached up and wiped the tear that had fallen down his cheek, “I love you,” I whispered.

  We both kneeled down in the center of the circle my mother had prepared.

  Becky and my mother stood on either side of us as Sneachta sat perfectly straight and tall near Greer.

  My mother spoke, “Fire is represented by the candle's flame, water is all around us,” she took a cluster of sage and burned it, “air,” she said, as she held it high, “ and earth” she continued, as she placed a little vile filled with dirt at out feet.

  “We call upon our great ancestors to bless these two lovers in the binding of their souls,” Becky said.

  She placed my hands in Greer's and wrapped rope around them. I thought of Martha and believed that she was with us now, watching and blessing the ceremony.

  I watched Greer as my mother and Becky continued with the ritual, his eyes were blazing into mine as we repeated our vows.

  Finally, Becky asked us to stand. She placed a broom on the floor in front of us, “Jump,” she said happily.

  Greer and I hopped over the broom together and Becky and my mother laughed as we almost tripped over Sneachta. She flicked her tail angrily and leapt over to the door, batting at it so she could go out and catch mice.

  My mother's eyes followed Sneachta to the door, “We must go,” she said, her voice catching in her throat.

  “Oh,” my levity was broken by the finality of our situation.

  “I do not know how to . . .”

  Becky stopped me as I tried to find the words. She placed her hands on my shoulders and met my eyes, “We never say goodbye to family Aislin. We will meet again.” She squeezed me in a strong hug and then turned to walk away.

  “I will miss you,” I said, while letting go of her hand. “I love you both so much,” I cried.

  My mother wrapped her arms around me, “You are a strong woman and a powerful witch. You will do wonderful things wherever you go.”

  She stepped back and surveyed me one last time. She did so in the same manner that I did when we drove out of Burlington, as to remember every detail. We both knew this was our final goodbye.

  “I love you Aislin Coll . . .” she broke her sentence and smiled at Greer, “Ruthven.”

  “I love you too,” I choked.

  She and Becky turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

  ********************

  I stood staring at the door as the reality of our farewell was still sinking in. Greer walked up behind me and kissed my neck, “I will not tell you that you shouldn't be sad by saying goodbye to your family. But sit with me a while,” he gestured toward the bed.

  His dark hair was wavy and soft. I brushed back the single piece that always seemed to get near his eyes. He smiled at me and kissed my hand as it passed his lips, as he always seemed to do. We both realized this at the same time and laughed about it, but his temperament changed quickly and I knew that we were about to talk of something more profound.

  “Aislin? What did Lamont tell you about your past?” his eyes squinted slightly as he entwined our fingers together.

  I looked away from him. Lamont's illumination of my past sprang to the forefront of my mind and I could not stare into Greer's eyes.

  “He said that I was a dark witch . . . and that I met you because I was sent to collect items from your land, so that my coven could hex it.” I did not look up at him. How could I?

  “I want you to know that I already knew about that,” he said. “I knew about it the day I met you. You never lied to me,” he said.

  He lifted my chin so that we faced each other.

  “How could you love me when I was evil?” I asked in disbelief. “I was sent to curse your family and you did not fear me at all?”

  “Aislin, the moment you and I locked eyes I knew that, above all else, I could trust you.”

  I still looked away. I could not understand why he would trust a dark sorceress. What if I had cast a spell on him to make him love me?

  “Aislin, you and I did not meet each other for the first time on that field of wild flowers. Do you remember the dream you told me about, where we fought against the Romans together?”

  I nodded, I had often thought of that dream.

  “We have both had that dream as far back as I can remember. We knew each other the moment we cast eyes on one another. You did not hex me into loving you, nor did I persuade you to love me. We were meant for one another. I believe the reason we both had the same dream of the Roman battle is that we actually lived through that battle, together. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I replied, while I looked into his eyes.

  He leaned in and kissed me, his soft, full lips caressing mine. He placed me gently down with my head resting upon the pillow as he traced his lips down my neck. I clung tightly to him, still afraid that this was a dream that I would wake up from and be alone again. Thankfully, this was not a dream.

  “I love you,” he whispered, as he gazed upon me.

  He removed my dress and kissed my bare skin. I did not feel ashamed or even shy, as being with him felt natural and right. I ran my fingers through his hair and wrapped my arms around his back. We clung to each other and for the first time he did not shy from my kisses. Instead, he pulled me closer until our bodies were fully intertwined as husband and wife.

  Epilogue

  February 21st 1735

  I awoke with a momentary surge of panic and clinched my eyes tightly together. I was afraid that I had been lost in some torturously pleasant dream and that I would, once again, awaken to find myself alone. Then I felt the warmth of his arms that were entangled in mine and the softness of his breath on my shoulder.

  “Good morning, my love,” he spoke softly in my ear.

  I smiled broadly and took in the moment. “Good morning husband,” I said shyly, trying out the word for the first time.

  He kissed my bare shoulder and then the base of my jawbone, “You seemed to sleep well.”

  “How long have you been watching me?” I asked self-consciously.

  “Just a little while. Sneachta woke me when she scratched at the door this morning,”

  Outside the room, I could hear men working, and the noise of many feet moving about.

  “Do all the passengers have rooms like this?” I asked. I looked around, really noticing the room for the first time.

  “No. This is that Captain's quarters,” he smiled.

  “I thought that a captain never gave up his quarters?” I said in astonishment.

  Greer laughed to himself as he ran his fingers through my hair, “Most people will give up anything for a certain price. I could not have you living in the cramped confines below deck. There is far too much disease that is passed down there . . . and we could not be alone like this either.”

  I rested my head on his chest and watched our fingers interlace as soft sunlight entered the room through the window.

  “I am glad we are alone.”

  “What were you dreaming about this morning?” Greer asked inquisitively, “You were smiling and giggling in your sleep,” he said with a tone of amuseme
nt.

  I noticed how beautiful his smile was. It was so full of joy that it made me smile as well.

  I thought back to before I had awoken, “We were in a castle that stood high on a precipice. It was made of soft sand colored stones and had round towers and a surrounding wall that enclosed it.”

  The details came back to me with great clarity. “There were great archways made of stone and we were running through them, but we were laughing,” I smiled, recalling our happiness. “We reached an outlook at one of the roof tops, and we looked across the valley below us. It was unlike anything I had seen before. The land was green with large rocks jutting up from the hillside and soft mountains far in the distance. It was beautiful.”

  “That is Loarre. My mother's home,” Greer said with great surprise. “It is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been,” he said.

  His thoughts drifted, “I have not been there since I was barely twenty-two . . . it is odd that you would have such a dream.”

  There was a knock on the cabin door and Greer got up to answer it. I watched as he moved about. His tall slender frame was muscular, his shoulders broad, his olive skin smooth. He pulled a sleep shirt over himself and went to the door, and then returned to me with a tray of food and a flagon of water.

  “You should eat,” he sat down beside me. “Food on ships doesn't stay fresh for long, so you eat while you can,” he said, in a serious manner.

  “Will you eat?” I asked curiously.

  “No, I do not think so.”

  “But I saw you eat at the Ball. Why then and not now?”

  “Well…” he pressed his lips together as he thought of how to explain himself, “Is there any type of food that you dislike?”

  “Aye,” I nodded, “Beets . . . I cannot stand them,” I crinkled my nose and made him laugh.

  “But if you had no other food and were starving, regardless of their taste, beets would sustain you. Would they not?” he pointed at the food and gestured that I eat it.

 

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