I pushed up from the floor to stretch the soreness from my legs and arms. My feet felt scratchy, and I looked down to see that they were still covered in dirt. The sheath was also filthy and torn where a thorn had snagged it. With a sigh, I pulled it off, throwing it in a corner on my way to the dressing table to clean up. The water in the pitcher was cold, left over from last night, but it sufficed for a quick sponge bath.
I splashed my face and neck several times, accidentally sloshing water onto the mirror. Over the years, I had stood in this exact spot to search my reflection. If I were really Goddess Born, it stood to reason that there would be some physical characteristic ready to give me away. Out of habit I looked again, but found the same face staring back—entirely human in both form and feature. The divine part stayed tucked safely inside, only coming to the surface when needed to heal someone, or, as I had recently learned, when kissing Henry.
After my freakish display last night, I now had to figure out the best way to backtrack and convince Henry that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Maybe I could claim it had been some kind of shock between us, or that a rare type of lightning had passed over Brighmor. Both of these ideas were absurd, though sadly enough, they might be easier for Henry to believe than the idea that I descended from a goddess.
With some reluctance, I put on a simple cotton frock and brushed the tangles from my hair. Voices came through the window, and I glanced out to see the servants departing on foot for Hopewell to whatever religious services they would be attending. While I stood watching, Henry also left on horseback. At the end of the drive, he stopped and looked toward the house. I ducked out of sight before he could see me. Needing to block out the whole world, I unhooked the drapes, letting them fall across the window. As the daylight disappeared, I suddenly felt very tired and went to my bed to lie down.
It seemed like only minutes had passed when the front door banged opened and hurried footsteps came up the stairs to my room. The knob rattled, followed by a series of loud knocks.
“Let me in, Selah Kilbrid,” Nora said. “I’ve news that can hardly wait for the telling.”
Nearly falling out of bed, I rushed to the door and turned the key. “Good heavens!” I exclaimed, still groggy eyed from sleep. “What’s the matter?”
Nora walked in. “Why are you sitting in the dark? It’s like a cave in here.” She went straight to the window and pulled open the heavy drapes.
“It was a difficult night,” I said defensively. “I was sleeping.”
She looked me up and down. “I can see that. Come and sit before I tell you anything.”
Still feeling a bit unsteady on my feet, I did as she told me and sat down in the chair near the hearth. “Did you run all the way here?” I asked. Her face was red and slicked with sweat, and strands of dark hair fell from the neat knot at her neck.
“Yes, I did, and I’ve not much time. Soon as meeting was over, I slipped out the door to see you, but Anne and Gideon Boyle are not far behind.” She took a hand towel from my dressing table to dry the sweat from her face. “You will not believe what happened this morning.”
“What is it?” I asked, already dreading whatever she had to say.
“Nathan Crowley has had a vision. He stood at the end of meeting and proclaimed there’s a witch living in our town.”
I sucked in my breath. “Did he say who it was?” My voice came out half choked, though Nora didn’t seem to notice. She was practically bobbing on her feet from excitement.
“That’s the best part. In his vision, he was forbidden to give the person’s name yet. There’s to be a special meeting in three days where he will divulge it. Isn’t this the most exciting news?”
“And you believe him?” I was growing increasing distressed by her excitement.
“Do be serious,” Nora said, rather indignantly. “Of course I don’t believe such poppycock. The idea that one of our neighbors could actually be a witch? I’ve never heard something so absurd in my entire life. I mean, it’s not like we’re living in Europe where they still believe this sort of rubbish, running around like a bunch of heathens ready to burn each other up at a moment’s notice.”
The blood drained from my face. Fortunately I hadn’t eaten anything or it would have come back up onto my lap.
“My goodness!” Nora cried. “You look like a ghost has crossed your shadow. What’s wrong?”
“This is not some game meant for your amusement. Nathan could really hurt someone.”
“No one is going to believe him,” Nora protested. “He’s the only one making accusations. There would have to be a witness or something.”
“And then would you believe him?”
Nora looked discomfited. “I guess it would lend some credibility to his vision,” she said. “But, there’s no such thing as witches. Just because Nathan drank some bad wine before bedtime and suffered a nightmare doesn’t mean anyone is going to step forward and risk their own reputations to support him.”
“What if they did?”
“They won’t,” she persisted. “Well, unless it’s Phoebe, and then the whole town would have to testify, wouldn’t they?”