In a letter to my father the real Samuel Kilbrid had sworn an oath to protect me at all cost, but I had never expected a similar level of devotion from Henry. Then I recalled our trip from Philadelphia and how he had already killed several men on my behalf. Studying his face, I saw he would do it again, would challenge Nathan this very night if I asked.
Though his offer was certainly tempting, there had to be another way to get through this. “We can’t,” I said. “It wouldn’t be right. All I can do is wait and see how people respond at the meeting. Maybe Nora’s right, and no one will take him seriously. She doesn’t think a vision is enough, and he’ll need a witness to really charge me.” I stiffened, caught unaware by my own words. The only credible witness was kneeling in front of me at the moment, carefully watching my face. I looked down at my hands, afraid of what he might find.
“Why did you run away last night?” he asked, his voice turning quiet.
It had been easier to ignore him when there was a door between us. Having nothing to say, I started to fidget with my wedding band. Henry took my hands between his own to get my attention.
“Don’t ignore me, Selah. You may have noticed by my sitting outside your room for three hours last night that I’ve wanted to speak with you. I need to know—”
I looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m not a witch, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I never thought you were,” he said calmly.
“You accused me of using a spell to bewitch you!”
“There’s no denying something happened in the woods last night, but that doesn’t make you a witch.”
“You think I’m evil!” I pushed him further, wanting to learn exactly where he stood.
“Stop telling me what I think. I admit it was a poor choice of words.”
We stared at each other for a minute before I could speak again. “You really don’t think I’m a witch?”
“No, I don’t,” he said. During our exchange he had tightened his grasp around my hands. “You’re not a witch and you’re not evil, but that still leaves a whole lot that you could be. Tell me what happened last night. Tell me what you did.”
“Please don’t, Henry,” I pleaded. My mind would burst if I had to think about one more thing right now. It would have been so much easier to just tell him the truth, but he would never believe me.
“When are we going to talk about it?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Why must you keep pushing me away?” He lifted up one of my hands and pressed it to his lips. “I need to know what you did. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
There was a loud knock on the front door, and I pulled my hand away, tucking it safely beneath my gown. “I don’t think the servants are back from church yet. We may need to let them in.”
He stared at me, his eyes darker green than usual. “Very well.” He stood and helped me to my feet. “But this does not mean the matter is settled between us.”
I nodded. At best, I had bought some more time to invent an explanation.
“And what do you propose we say to our guests?” he asked, his smile returning.
There wasn’t much we could say. “Just smile and nod,” I told him and led the way down the stairs.
*
We sat in awkward silence, Henry and me on one sofa with Anne and Gideon straight across on the other. Edgar had taken a seat in an armchair to my left, from which he watched me like a concerned grandfather.
“You were missed at meeting this morning, Selah” he said. “Are you unwell?”
Anne and Gideon looked at me expectantly. Considering the reason for their visit, my health seemed a good place to start.
“I’m feeling fine, thank you. I just slept poorly is all.”
“Ah yes,” Edgar said. “The Kilbrid women have always benefited from a strong constitution, especially your grandmother from what I remember.”
“Rightly so,” Gideon agreed. “She would tend the sick without catching so much as the sniffles.”
Edgar laughed good-naturedly. “And lucky for us, I say, to have a healer who isn’t constantly tucked in bed with a hot brick at her feet.”
Mary brought in a large tray, temporarily suspending all talk of the Kilbrid constitution. She served each person and then excused herself from the room, leaving us silently sipping our tea.
“My dear,” Anne said, turning to her husband. “It is a beautiful day. Why don’t you and Edgar go for a walk with Henry? He can show you the new foal I heard was born this spring.” In one broad stroke, she had effectively excused the men and introduced the pending topic of conversation.
“That’s a splendid idea,” Gideon said, coming to his feet rather quickly for a man of his girth. “Come men, a walk will do us good.”
Thus summoned, Edgar also stood, eager to be off. Henry leaned over to whisper in my ear first. “Take careful notes,” he said. “You can tell me later what you’ve learned.”
I smiled, though the blood rushed into my checks. Only propriety—and three witnesses—stopped me from kicking him when he walked by.
Anne waited just until the front door closed. “I assume by how quickly Nora left the meetinghouse that you’ve already learned of Nathan’s vision.”
“Yes,” I admitted.