Bewitching Kisses (Bewitching Kisses Series)

  Chapter Twenty –Two

  Julie Morgan dismissed the carriage driver and gazed longingly at the grand white house that stood before her. You should have chosen me, Nick, she thought, walking slowly up the brick path. Pausing at the entrance, she patted her long blond curls and pinched color into her cheeks before raising the knocker. Her most dazzling smile was firmly in place when Wadsworth opened the door.

  "Mrs. Morgan to see Mr. Beaumont," she stated formally, brushing past the butler to step into the foyer.

  "Why, Miss Julie, is that you?" Wadsworth's face lit with recognition. "Why, I haven't seen you since you were just a little thing."

  Julie gave the butler a withering stare. "It's Mrs. Clarence Morgan now, Wadsworth. Would you please tell Mr. Beaumont that I'm here."

  Unruffled, Wadsworth continued to smile. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Mrs. Morgan. Mr. Beaumont has gone with your brother down to the docks in Jamestown."

  Julie's face mirrored her disappointment. "Then tell Mrs. Beau . . . Beaumont," she stumbled over the name, "tell Sarah that I am here and wish to see her."

  Wadsworth shook his head. "Can't do that, either, Miss Julie. She's over at Mrs. Beaumont's old house. We had a bad storm a few days back and lots of folks were left without a place to live. Miss Sarah's been helping them out a bit."

  Julie rolled her eyes. "How very noble." She glanced about the sonny foyer. How she loved this house, with its crisp white walls, bright airy windows, and sinfully expensive paintings. She sighed wistfully at the opulence of it all. "Wadsworth, I've decided I'll wait. Would you bring me a julep, please?"

  Wadsworth's smile turned dubious. "It might be a long time, Miss Julie. Are you sure you wouldn't want me to fetch a carriage to carry you back to town?"

  Julie pulled her shoulders back and gave Wadsworth her haughtiest stare. "I shall wait in the study. I'm sure Nick won't mind if I amuse myself with one of his volumes until he and my brother return."

  "If that's what you wish, miss. It's right through here."

  Julie brushed past the butler. "I know where it is, Wadsworth," she sighed. "Now will you get me that drink, or am I going to have to tell Mr. Beaumont you were rude to me?"

  Wadsworth's face turned to stone. "As you wish, madam."

  Julie waited until the study door was closed before dancing across the room and flopping down in the chair behind Nick's desk. Her fingers rubbed against the smooth grain of the wood as her eyes scanned the book-filled room. What a waste, she thought, noting the leather-bound first editions that claimed a special shelf. You don't know how to spend your money, Nicky. You've squandered so much of it on useless paper. Now, if I were spending it . . . Julie sat up straight and frowned. A small black vase rested on the corner of Nick's desk but its pink roses were days past their prime and petals had already started to fall.

  She clucked her tongue with disgust. "I'd never let the servants get away with such sloppy housekeeping," she said to the empty room. Plucking the wilted roses from the vase, she crossed the room and dropped them into the ash can. She returned to the desk and tugged at the knobs, only to find all the drawers locked. Her fingers ran down the spine of Nick's quill and she fancied him penning her an amorous letter. Then she saw it. Hastily tucked within the pages of his book, the folded note beckoned her to look closer. Without a moment's hesitation, Julie reached for the volume and withdrew the paper. She scanned the contents and her eyes began to sparkle as a devilish smile tugged at her lips. "Well, well, well," she said softly. "Little Sarah's family misses her." Her mind clicked at a furious speed and her brow wrinkled. Why wasn't' the letter with Sarah, she wondered. Could it be that Nick was so possessive he begrudged her a trip home? She imagined Nick's dark eyes smiling down at her. "I want you always at my side, Julie," he would declare solemnly. She felt her heart begin to flutter. "I would never leave you, my darling," she whispered. Julie straightened and scanned the letter again. I would never leave, she thought, but Sarah would, or Nick wouldn’t' have kept this from her.

  The study door edged open. Julie jumped to her feet, shoving the letter into her reticule in the process. "Wadsworth," she gasped. "You gave me a start."

  "Sorry, madam." His tone was clipped and formal. "I am just bringing the refreshment you requested."

  Julie shook her head, making her blond curls dance about her shoulders. "I've changed my mind, Wadsworth," she said lightly. "You may fetch me a carriage. I don't feel like waiting after all."

  Wadsworth frowned and glanced down at the silver tray he carried. "Do you not wish your drink, madam?"

  Julie breezed across the room, whisked the glass from the tray, and took a dainty sip. "There . . ." She returned the drink. "Now if you are satisfied . . ." She looked down her nose. "You may fetch me a carriage."

  Wadsworth glanced about the room. Something was amiss, he could feel it in his bones. "As you wish, madam. I shall call you directly."

  "Oh, pooh," she said, dancing by him. "I shall wait on the porch so do hurry."

  Wadsworth gave a curt nod and left to do her bidding.

  Julie found Sarah folding children's clothing in Agatha's back parlor. "My goodness, you look terrible," she said, taking in the dark circles that ringed Sarah's eyes. "What on earth have you done to yourself?"

  Sarah smiled in greeting but didn't stop her chore. "Julie, how nice to see you again. I didn't know you were coming for a visit so soon."

  Julie pulled a chair near, dusted its clean surface with her handkerchief, then sat down. "Chris brought Mother and me when we heard of Agatha's death. The families have always been extremely close, you know."

  Sarah nodded but remained silent.

  Julie looked about the room. The heavy draperies had been pulled back to let the sunlight in, but she wrinkled her nose at the dark-colored walls. "Why are you doing that?" she grimaced at the wicker basket that sat at Sarah's feet. "Why isn't one of your servants taking care of it?"

  "Everyone is already busy," Sarah said easily.

  Julie rolled her eyes. "Sarah," she said in an impatient tone. "Servants are never busy. Oh, they'll tell you they are, but they're really not." She picked the child's smock from Sarah's lap with two fingers and dropped it back into the basket. "You're going to have to learn how to give orders if you are going to have a successful marriage. Why, you should be home right now seeing to Nick's dinner party."

  Sarah felt her chest tighten. He had said she'd get not even a good morning, but she hadn't realized it could hurt so much. She hadn't known that just the mention of his name would bring back the lump in her throat and make her eyes hot and stingy. Her hand trembled as she reached down to retrieve the smock. "Julie, I appreciate your advice . . . but circumstances have been a little hectic of late – "

  "Oh, I know," Julie interrupted. "We heard all about the storm and how you've taken folks in. But Sarah, Nick is not going to be at all impressed if tonight's dinner doesn't go well."

  Sarah struggled to keep her voice even. "I'm sure Mrs. Killingham has everything under control. She's been with Mr. Beaumont for years."

  Julie watched Sarah's pale face grow paler still, and a flicker of excitement stirred within her. Something was definitely wrong between the newly wed couple. Could it be that Nick had found marriage as confining as she had? Or was he just asserting his will as Clarence had tried so hard to do?

  "You know, now that you're married, you really shouldn't let Nick get the upper hand," she counseled. "I don't care how many times he says he loves you, you've got to learn to be strong to get your own way."

  Sarah swallowed hard. But he never said he loved me, her mind screamed with pain. I offered him my very soul and he left in the rain. She tried to speak, but couldn't find her voice.

  "I will never let Clarence have control over me," Julie continued primly. "I don't care what the law says about him being the master of the house. I'm going to do what I want. You should too."

  Sarah tilted her head in confusion. "What would you have me do?"


  "Well, if I were you and I wanted to go home for a visit," Julie leaned forward, "Then I would go and I wouldn't care what Nick said to the contrary."

  Sarah's eyes turned wistful. "I would love to see my family again."

  "How long have you been visiting in Virginia?" Julie tried to keep her voice casual as her excitement grew.

  Sarah paused. "It's been over three months," she said slowly. Three months longing for her family . . . waiting for word . . . losing her heart . . .

  "More than three months! Then, Sarah, why are you letting Nick keep you here?"

  Sarah shook her head slowly. "That is not the case."

  Julie reached for her hand. "Please don't think me too personal, but I feel we women must stick together in matters such as these. Tell me, do you know of your brother's letter?"

  Sarah's eyes grew wide. "A letter from Samuel?"

  Julie nodded and slowly tugged the drawstrings on her bag. "I thought as much. Look, I found this in Nick's desk." She handed Sarah the letter.

  "But . . ."

  "Now don't go getting all stuffy about how I shouldn't have taken it. It was sitting right out on his desk, and when I realized it was for you, I simply thought I'd bring it. Besides," she patted Sarah's trembling hands, "as much as I adore Nick, I think he's wrong to keep you from going to your family if that's what you want to do."

  Sarah's eyes scanned the letter for a second time. "Samuel wants me to return home immediately," her voice was dazed. "What am I going to do?"

  Julie smiled. "Well, when Clarence didn't want me to make this trip with Mother and Chris, I just threw a tantrum until he gave in."

  "A tantrum?"

  "Never mind," she said, patting Sarah's hand. "You'd never be convincing anyhow. But, tell me, do you really want to go back to Salem?"

  Sarah nodded. "More than anything else in the world."

  "Then you're going to go." Julie stood and her mind clicked into action. "And today, if we can find a boat."

  Totally overwhelmed, Sarah stopped as Julie tried to tug her from the room. "I can't go today. There is too much to do here."

  Julie forced her scowl into an expression of concern. "Why, Sarah, I'd be happy to lend a hand here in your absence." Her eyes glanced down as the basket of laundry. I'd have these servants whipped into shape in no time, she thought. "I know there is much to do, but I'm sure I could manage it."

  Sarah smiled in gratitude but shook her head. "That is so kind of you," she said softly. "But what would I use for fare? How would I book a passage?"

  Julie waved aside her protest. "You go upstairs and pack your things. Take little with you so no one notices what you are doing. I still have my carriage outside and I will lend you the money for passage."

  Sarah paled. "You want me to leave and not even say good-bye? Julie, I can't do that. These people are very dear to me."

  "They might be dear to you," Julie huffed, "but I tell you true that they are loyal to Nick. If you go running around saying good-bye, Nick will be here within minutes and he'll be madder than a wet hen."

  He's already that mad, Sarah thought as she turned to the stairs. And briefly she wondered if he wouldn't be relieved to find her gone. With a heavy heart, Sarah went to her room and looked at the multitude of things she had accumulated: the lovely sapphire dress Charlotte had so skillfully created, the many gowns Nick had ordered . . . These she folded carefully and left on the end of her bed. They would never do in Salem.

  Taking the bag Agatha had once loaned her, Sarah placed a clean nightrail and shift inside, along with her black velvet gown. Her packing completed, she turned to the small desk in the corner of her room and quickly penned a good-bye note to Luther and Mrs. Hempsted. But her eyes swam with tears as she sealed the final one, to Nick.

  Rising, she looked about the room. Agatha had been so generous, she thought. Taking in a stranger and treating her as family. Someday, I shall return the kindness to someone else, she thought, and I shall remember you always. She crossed to the dresser with her letters and saw the tortoiseshell comb Nick had given her. With hands that were far from steady, she propped her notes against it. Then, looking down, she touched the golden links that spanned her wrist.

  Clutching the bracelet to her chest, Sarah's eyes pressed closed with pain. "Do I take you for the memories" she whispered, "or do I leave you here with my heart?" Slowly she opened her eyes. She unhooked the catch with trembling fingers and placed the bracelet on the dresser. For a full minute she stood silent, then, taking a deep breath, Sarah picked up her bag and bid a silent farewell to Agatha's household.

  The sun slipped from view as Nick climbed back into the carriage at his grandmother's house. "I don't understand it," he said to Christopher. "Sarah isn't here. Luther said she left with Julie this afternoon. Julie told him they were going into town to shop and not to expect Sarah until very late."

  "That sounds like my sister." Chris stretched. "Mayhap when they finished, she persuaded Sarah to return to your house for dinner tonight. After all, she doesn't know any of the details concerning your marriage, and Sarah doesn't strike me as the type who would easily share her problems. I'll wager Julie assumed Sarah would return home with her tonight and Sarah was too embarrassed to say otherwise."

  Nick signaled the driver. "You're probably right. With any luck, she's at home right now chatting with your mother."

  "Who is going to skin us alive for being so late," Chris warned.

  As he predicted, Mrs. Carlson stormed from the parlor when she heard them enter. "Nicholas, I was so sorry to hear about Agatha. But would someone please tell me what is going on?"

  "It's wonderful to see you again, Mrs. Carlson." Nick kissed her cheek, then handed his hat to Wadsworth. "Have Sarah and Julie returned?"

  "No, they haven't," Mrs. Carlson replied impatiently. "And I want to know what is happening. First I wake to find that Julie has gone on without me, then I arrive at your house at the appointed hour and no one is here to greet me."

  Chris placed an arm about his mother's shoulders and led her back into the parlor. "I'm sorry we are late. But it was all Nick's fault."

  Mrs. Carlson slapped her son's arm away and shook her head. "When are you two going to grow up? I had hopes when I heard you were married, Nick, but now I'm beginning to wonder." The teasing smile in her eyes took the sting from her words.

  Nick poured them each a drink. "We stopped by Agatha's on our way home only to find that Sarah and Julie had gone shopping."

  Mrs. Carlson accepted her drink and perched on the edge of a gold settee. "Then there is no telling how long they will be. I am famished and those two are probably knee-deep in sketches at Madame Rousseau's."

  Nick started to object, but Mrs. Carlson pressed on. "Nick, I would swear that's where they are. Ever since the wedding Julie has been raving about that lovely sapphire gown Sarah wore. I'm telling you, I know my daughter. She has persuaded Sarah to take her there and she won't be satisfied until she owns every gown in the shop."

  "Sir, do you wish me to continue to hold dinner?" Wadsworth questioned.

  "No!" Mrs. Carlson rose abruptly to her feet and placed her hand on Nick's arm. "Nicholas, I know I am being extremely forward, and I know you wish Sarah here to join us, but I am starving! Please let us eat, and then you and Chris can go and fetch them."

  Chris took in the lines of strain on his mother's face and realized the taxing journey had been harder on her than she was willing to admit. "Nick, I think Mother is right." He turned and caught Nick's eye. "If Julie and Sarah wish to be late, then let them suffer the consequences."

  Reluctantly, Nick agreed, silently telling himself that another hour would make little difference between him and Sarah, while, as a host, he did have a duty to the Carlsons.

  "Wadsworth, you can inform Mrs. Killingham that we are ready to dine. We've decided not to wait for Julie or Mrs. Beaumont." For the barest moment Nick stood silent, realizing he had referred to Sarah as Mrs. Beaumont for the first time
and that the tight knot in his chest was finally starting to ease.

  The trio was seated in the dining room when Chris brought up the subject of Salem. "Nick, perhaps Mother would have some ideas how you might broach the matter with Sarah."

  Mrs. Carlson looked up from her plate of peanut soup. "What's the matter?" She gave Nick a sympathetic smile. "Is Sarah homesick already?"

  Nick shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't meant to share the news, but perhaps Chris was right. "There are trying times in Salem Village, where Sarah is from," he said hesitantly. "Sarah is desperate to return for a visit, but I fear it is unsafe for her to do so."

  "Are the Indians that unsettled?" Mrs. Carlson smiled as Wadsworth removed her plate and replaced it with a delicate poached fish in lemon sauce. "I didn't realize that the North was still having such problems."

  "The problem is not with Indians, Mother," Chris said quietly. "It is with witches."

  Mrs. Carlson's eyebrows drew together. "Christopher, I thought you beyond those childish imaginings."

  "They're not imaginings, Mrs. Carlson," Nick said slowly. "A madness has taken over the village and the townsfolk fear that witches walk among them."

  "That's dreadful," she gasped, setting aside her fork.

  "What is dreadful?" Julie breezed into the room. "Oh, bother, you've started without me." Deliberately she took the seat meant for Sarah at the foot of the table. "That wasn’t' very civilized."

  "Is Sarah with you?" Chris asked, noting the dark look Nick was sending his sister.

  Julie shook her head and all but snatched the plate of soup from Wadsworth's fingers. "No, she's too occupied at the moment to return." Aware that Nick watched her intently, she tried to be genteel as she spooned the savory soup into her mouth, but her stomach demanded more, and she desperately wished she could just pick up the damn plate and drink it as she so often did when she was home. "Now, what were we talking about?" She smiled as Wadsworth removed her empty dish.

  Nick started to rise, but Chris stopped him. "Finish your dinner and then go and fetch her. She's safe enough at Agatha's. Luther won't let any harm come to her. After all, it's not as if she were in Salem."

  Julie frowned as she bit into her fish. "What's wrong with Salem? Isn't that where Sarah's family is from?"

  "It seems there are witches in Salem." Mrs. Carlson looked down at her steaming plate of vegetables and found her appetite had disappeared.

  Julie looked at her mother and laughed. "That's absurd. There are no such things as witches."

  Chris set down his own fork "It seems that in Salem there might be. According to what Beckett told us this morning, they've hung several women who have been accused."

  "Dear God!" Mrs. Carlson's hand flew to her throat. "They've really gone that far? Where are the magistrates? Why haven't they put a stop to it?"

  Nick wearily shook his head. "They, too, have been caught up in the madness. The cry of witchcraft has become an easy scapegoat for many."

  Chris nodded. "If my cow's gone dry, what better than to blame it on my neighbor and claim foul play. Perhaps I can even demand restitution for the deed."

  Mrs. Carlson watched her daughter go completely still. "Are you feeling ill, Julie? You've gone whiter than the table linen."

  Julie struggled to keep the terror from her voice. "What does all this have to do with Sarah?"

  Chris, too, took in his sister's pale complexion. "Nick was telling us that Sarah is homesick and wants to return to Salem to see her family. But with things as unstable as they are, it could be dangerous. I asked Mother if she might have some advice as to how to ease Sarah's plight."

  "And they've really hung someone?" Julie's voice quivered in fear.

  "One of Sarah's closest friends, an old woman called Rebecca Nurse."

  Julie felt her fear begin to grow. "Oh, Mama, I've done something wrong. But I didn't mean any harm, I just didn't know. Now everyone is going to blame me, and it wasn't my fault."

  Nick felt a sickening dread seep into his body. His muscles grew tight and his heart stopped beating. "Julie, what did you say to Sarah?"

  Julie shrank back against her chair "I just told her she shouldn't let you be such a tyrant."

  Nick's look became menacing. "What else did you say?"

  "I just told her that if she wanted to go home for a visit she should go."

  "You what?" Nick exploded.

  Julie shrugged her shoulders and tried to gather her courage. "When she saw her brother's letter, she was desperate to return. I just told her I thought she should."

  "You stole a letter from my desk and gave it to Sarah?"

  "Well, it was her letter from her brother," Julie defended. "You had no right to keep it from her – "

  "It's going to be all right," Mrs. Carlson's calm voice broke in. "Julie, you were wrong to take that letter no matter how noble your intentions were. But Nicholas, you are making far too much of this. Sarah hasn’t gone anywhere. And if you calm yourself, I'm sure you'll find the words to help her understand your reasons for keeping it from her. Sarah isn't a foolish girl, and once she knows the truth, I'm sure she'll agree with you. You can simply point out that her family wouldn't want her to come until things are more settled – "

  "But you're wrong, Mama," Julie interrupted. "Sarah's brother is desperate to have her home again. His letter said so. That’s' why Sarah is so anxious to return."

  Chris looked from Nick to his mother and back again. "I think you had better tell them everything."

  Nick took a deep breath and tried to remain calm, but the gnawing fear in his stomach refused to be banished. "Sarah has been accused of witchcraft," he said slowly, watching their faces fill with disbelief. "My agent believes that Sarah's family might be behind the accusation."

  "Dear God, but why?" Mrs. Carlson could not keep the horror from her voice.

  Nick tried to stem the frantic beating of his heart. "With the death of her parents, Sarah inherited five hundred acres of prime land. Her stepbrother wants it back."

  "Oh, no!" Julie carefully set down her wineglass, for her fingers had begun to shake too much to hold it. "But his letter . . ."

  "Was probably meant to entice her home again," Chris said tightly. "And how do you tell someone who is aching to return home that her very family has betrayed her?"

  Julie looked down the table at Nick and cringed, for every muscle in his face was etched with anger. "Nick, Sarah isn't at Agatha's old house," her voice trembled. "We didn't go shopping this afternoon like I said. We took a carriage and went to Jamestown." Nick jerked to his feet and took a menacing step forward. "She said she wanted to go home," Julie rushed on. "I didn't know it was going to be dangerous so I gave her the money for passage."

  Nick's eyes grew wide. "You did what?"

  Julie felt the tears slowly drip down her cheeks and hoped he noticed. "I gave her the fare. Sarah is on a ship called the Good Providence. It left for the Massachusetts Bay Colony this afternoon."

  "Oh, my God," Chris gasped.

  Julie took in the three angry faces that glared in her direction. Unable to bear their censure, she decided to escape in the way she knew best and, giving in to the terror of the situation, she fainted.

  Ignoring her daughter's limp body, Mrs. Carlson rose from the table and went to Nick, taking his hand. "You have to do something, Nicholas," she said calmly. "You have to go and get Sarah back, for she doesn't know the danger she is in."

  Nick struggled to maintain his temper. Sarah needed him and he needed a clear head. "The Good Providence is one of my own ships," he said ironically. "She's smooth on the waters, but not my fastest."

  "Then let's go."

  He turned to Chris as they entered the foyer. "This will not be a short venture."

  Chris shrugged and reached for his hat. "My sister was directly to blame. If you'll agree to let Mother and Julie stay here where I know they shall be safe, I would be honored to sail at your side."

  Nick nodded and placed a fleeting kiss
on Mrs. Carlson's pale cheek. "Wadsworth will see to your needs, you have only to ask. And Julie – " His voice grew tight.

  "Is in dire need of a good paddling," Mrs. Carlson interrupted. "And this time I shall see to it myself. Now off with you both. You have my prayers to find Sarah quickly."

  "Then let us be off," Chris said, giving his mother a reassuring hug. "We've a ship to catch and a lady to rescue."