He stared down at her again, ruefully. “It’s true, isn’t it? He trusts us both. Oh, God, but that’s the pity of it! How to bring hurt to such a man! Were he but strong and healthy, a fool or a swaggering bastard! Were he anything other than what he is, I’d care not that he was your husband. I’d take you away, I’d fight, I’d duel—I’d kill or die, but I’d have choice and reason and action to take! Why, in God’s mercy, have I come to like that man? My promises are not to you—they are to him!”
“I cannot see you again. I can’t. I still must beg for your help, for I am still terrified. When Robert gains just a little strength, he must be moved. I cannot repay you.…” She pulled herself up.
He interrupted her bitterly. “You paid in advance, remember.”
She went silent for a moment, then squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine. “Well, if I have paid, then there is nothing to collect.”
He gripped her arm and practically dragged her along. “I’m taking you back.”
“I can go alone.”
“No!”
Soon they were almost at their rooms and Brianna tugged against his arm. “Sloan, you don’t need—”
He spun on her, furious—with her and with himself. And suddenly he was out of control again.
“Oh, yes, Ineed. What do you think you have here—steel or stone? I am neither! You will go home to your husband, and I cannot find fault or blame with that. But I love you—and I will never leave you. When you call on me, I will be there. But this…this I can bear no longer. You will stay on your pedestal, Brianna, always. A goddess whom fate has made me worship from afar. But I am flesh and blood, lady, and flesh and blood desires what you cannot give! Women are not hard to come by for lords and gentry, Brianna. I can no longer send you back to another man and toss my way through the night.”
Brianna stepped back from him and a cry of realization and dismay escaped her. It was so evident, so very obvious, that she could not ask him to live a life of celibacy. And yet…she had wanted to believe that he was. It was right that he should seek out another; it was right, but it hurt with a wrenching agony. Before she knew it, she was speaking. “You go to another? But you know that—”
He crossed his arms over his chest, his lips twitching with irony and sadness as he interrupted her. “I know that your husband is ill; that you go home to care for him and nothing more. I—” He broke off, emotion flashing quickly through his eyes, as if he had come across some hidden knowledge. His voice was a little harsh, a little incredulous, as he spoke again. “That’s the way it’s always been, hasn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” She breathed uneasily, stepping away from him. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He came to her. “You—and Robert. It’s never been a real marriage. You’ve never lived as man and wife.”
Furiously she ripped away from him. “We are man and wife!” she cried. “You know nothing—and I want you to stay away from me!” Dismay filled her voice. “He married me—I am his wife! Go where you will!”
She stared at him tumultuously for a moment, let out a little cry, then shoved at his chest and raced past him.
Returning—to Robert.
Sloan stared after her for a long while. At length he turned and walked down the street. He headed for the wharf and spent the night staring out to sea.
The special court of oyer and terminer met for the third time on August fifth. Sloan did not go to the trials, but Rikky kept him informed. Paddy had brought theSea Hawkup to Salem, and Sloan was busy conferring with him and trying to find a doctor to take aboard to care for Robert Powell. There was nothing he could do at the trial; nor, for that matter, had there been anything Rikky could do. Lord Turnberry was well acquainted with Chief Justice William Stoughton—a man as hard as nails, as strictly puritanical as was possible to be and determined to cast his rising political star into the hands of the majority clamoring to see that the devil’s disciples met the hangman.
Rikky returned from the affair very subdued.
“John Proctor was condemned today. His wife is spared because she pleads her belly.” He grimaced bitterly. “An unborn child cannot be condemned—even if he is the child of a ‘proven’ wizard and a ‘proven’ witch.” He continued. “I saw Proctor after the trial. He is still fighting mad and he asked to see me because he thought, as I was a lord, that I might have control somewhere. He told me that two of the boys who ‘confessed’ and gave evidence against him had been tortured into their confessions—tied head to heels in horrible contortions.” He paused. “I had time to voice an objection with Stoughton, but it seems the man is deaf. The town has gone insane, with crazy things being said—witches’ sabbaths, rides through the night on poles, devil’s rites! What has come over these people? They join their accusers in pure lunacy!”
Sloan was silent for a moment, his thoughts on Robert Powell with an understanding he wished he did not have. Powell refused to add to the very lunacy of which Rikky spoke. And because of it—if he were ever brought to trial—he would hang.
Sloan restlessly paced the room while Rikky looked on. “I’m ready to sail,” he told Rikky. He hesitated briefly. He had not gone near either of the Powells since the night Brianna had run from him.
“When is the execution to be?”
“August nineteenth.”
“Go to Robert Powell for me, Rikky. Don’t even talk to Brianna—see him. Tell him that the noose grows tighter, that we must leave before matters get worse. Perhaps the night of the hanging will be best. There will be many sickened by the sight, determined to keep quiet, even if we should be caught upon the streets.”
“If I’ve been receiving my gossip right, even our governor—who cares not to take a firm stand—is willing to assist…‘departures,’ shall we say? In certain cases.”
“Those of his friends, Rikky. Powell is not among the elite of this society. He’s a poor farmer, nothing more. This will be done on our own. Two men guard the rooms and Brianna has been free to come and go. She will leave; then I’ll take on the guards and smuggle Powell out to the waiting ship.”
“I’ll pick up Brianna,” Rikky offered.
“No, you will not. Because you intend to stay here. I will not be able to come anywhere near Massachusetts once this is accomplished—at least, not until this madness dies out.”
