The Sins of a Few (10 page)

“I cannot help but fear his reasoning. He might care for me, but he does not favor life here in Salem and I can live nowhere else. And what of his future children? Will he allow them to be raised in a place he so freely speaks against?”

“You worry too much. Perhaps he feels the greatest thing he can offer a child is a mother for whom he cares deeply. Your father passed on many years ago, but I have not forgotten the look in a man’s eyes when he is driven by passion.” Felicity paused, cutting her eyes shrewdly at Faith. “Men are of their own hearts and minds, and they must make decisions we cannot always understand. All you can hope is that he treats you well. If you enjoy one another, you are truly blessed. The rest is not your place to question.”

“You are right, of course.” Faith paused, caught off guard by the way her mother seemed to emanate light. Somehow, Nathanial had given them that, and it mattered not what he had done before he returned to their lives or whose blood he shared…the gift he had already given was precious.

But would it be enough? He said he would be willing to stay in Salem, but for how long? What would happen when he grew bored with the village? With her?

What if her agreement had been the biggest mistake of her life?

Chapter Twelve

After leaving the tavern, Nathanial took a long walk to nowhere in particular. He had a week to remedy the situation with William Burton and Faith’s living quarters. A
week
. He was not sure what was worse—that she would lose her home of the past several years, or that they had nowhere to go. He could almost certainly elbow his way into his family’s residence, but Faith and Felicity would never be comfortable there, and frankly, he did not expect he would be…least of all with his father congratulating him on forming an alliance for reasons that had nothing to do with reality.

Reasons he certainly did not need Faith to hear.

But if not there, then where? To his knowledge, there were no options remaining in the village. There were inns in Salem Town, but she would not see the neighboring establishment as home. And why be so close-minded? The situation, though not ideal, left wide open the possibility of moving to a city. He could easily find work in Cambridge. But could he convince Faith? Would she think he had intended for her to lose her home? Perhaps in time William would reconsider, but time was short. He could not rely on the softening of the old man’s heart. Nathanial needed options.

He needed to convince Faith to leave Salem.

After what happened in Salem, any man would be a fool to think it a place to put down roots. They would all be better off to dig up what remained and make a new home in a community whose residents did not band to execute one another on rumor alone. The answer was clear.

He and Faith would leave Salem.

He was still very much lost to his thoughts when a voice distracted him.

“Fine day, is it not?”

Nathanial looked to the source of the voice, finding an elder Goodman, overly bundled against the cool day, seated on a porch.

“I suppose it is,” Nathanial agreed.

“Not many folks stop by to see me these days.”

They were on the edge of town. “I do not imagine many pass by these parts.”

“It is lonely out here,” the man acknowledged. “But I want nothing of the center of town. There’s only one person whose companionship I miss, and I won’t find her there.”

The Goodman’s tone suggested such affection that Nathanial’s heart warmed. “Who are you missing, sir?”

“An old friend, long widowed. Her name is Felicity.”

“Felicity Downing?”

The elder studied Nathanial for a moment. “That’s the one.”

“It just so happens I am to marry her daughter. Would you like me to arrange a visit?”

The man’s face clouded, leaving Nathanial to wonder if he had made a mistake in offering. But then the elder smiled. “I can think of nothing I would like more.”

…

Faith had just begun to wonder what had become of Nathanial when he arrived, bursting through the door in a blast of cold air. Despite the chill, he immediately shed his topcoat and bypassed the fire. Without saying a word, he cradled her head between his large, cold hands and kissed her solidly.

“You smell wonderful,” he murmured.

“What you smell is the pottage.” She gestured toward the meal simmering over the fire. Oblivious to the overwhelming commonality of the exchange, her heart turned somersaults. He had come home to her. This man who could have his pick of the finest patricians in all the colonies had chosen
her
. How long could his interest possibly last?

“I dare say it is nearly as delightful as you.” He leaned closer and whispered, “You taste better.”

She gave him a silent swat on the shoulder and tilted her head toward her mother. In doing so, she remembered her mother’s words.
Do not question
. The words were wise, and not just because his interest was in no danger of waning anytime soon, but because she did not want to while away her joy with worries.

Nathanial grinned and kissed her again, then walked over to sit with her mother. “How are you this fine evening, Goodwife?”

“For all sakes, call me Felicity. Such formality is unneeded.”

“It is not formality, but respect.”

“Very well then. Respectfully call me Felicity.”

He sat back and laughed. “May I inquire as to your plans in the morning?”

Faith stepped in. “She has no plans. Her health is poor.”

“Nonsense, child. I feel much better after leaving the house. The fresh air is good for a body.”

“The fresh air is cold! And you do not want to strain yourself.”

“Nor do I wish to waste away in this chair. Now hush. For all we know, he wants me to mend his jacket.”

“Actually,” Nathanial said, casting a sideways glance at Faith, “I would like very much for you to accompany me on a visit to one of your old friends. I happened by his home today and found him out of doors. We spoke briefly, and when he learned of our association, he requested your company specifically.”

Faith nearly dropped the bowl she held. “
He
?”

“Miles Corbet,” Nathanial said.

Felicity pressed her fingertips to her chest. “Miles wishes to see me? He asks for me, after all these years?

Faith searched her memories for the once familiar name. “Miles…he was Charity’s husband, was he not? Why would he want to see you?”

“As I said, I happened by his home and we talked. Once he learned of our prospective marriage he inquired as to your mother’s health. He cannot travel the distance between them, but he hoped she might.”

Felicity’s eyes shone like stars. “He still thinks of me?”

“Mother, it is a
visit
.”

Nathanial nudged Faith’s side and grinned. “He still thinks of her.”

Faith blew out a frustrated sigh. “Very well. Do as you must.”

…

Faith was out of sorts the next morning on the walk to the Corbet house. Though she knew of the Goodman, she found it odd he would request an audience with her mother after so many years apart—not that they had ever been
together
in any capacity beyond that of their shared love for Charity. Even the few times they had crossed paths at the meeting house, Faith had not noticed involvement between her mother and Miles…if anything, they had seemed to avoid one another.

Which was…interesting. Very much so.

Faith stole a look at her mother, who looked more like a girl than a grown woman having been plagued for years with problems in her hips and knees.

She appeared…happy.

“What is going on here?” Faith asked Nathanial.

His only response was a secretive smile. Before she could question him further—for all the good it would do—he gestured toward a nearby home. “Here we are.”

Felicity stopped, releasing Faith’s arm and drawing her hands to her chest.

“Mother? Are you okay?” Were those
tears
in her mother’s eyes?

“Forgive me. It has been so long.”

“There was no need to wait years. Why did you not speak of your desire to visit with Goodman Corbet? We could have arranged this much sooner.”

Nathanial touched Faith’s arm. “Worry not. All is as it should be.”

Sure it was. Her mother had turned into a schoolgirl, her intended was conspiring with a neighbor, and Faith was at a loss as to what was going on. Miles was clearly special to her mother—and Felicity quite freely spoken—so how could Faith not have known?

Nathanial knocked, then waited a few moments before opening the door and calling, “Goodman Corbet?”

Faith could not make out the muffled response, but in short order Nathanial led them into the home. “Miles, my intended, Faith. And you certainly remember her mother, Felicity.”

Felicity had unmistakable tears in her eyes as she approached the Goodman, who took both of her hands in his. Nathanial grabbed a chair from the nearby table and placed it across from Miles, then helped Felicity sit. The two exchanged quiet words Faith could not hear, and her attempt to eavesdrop went quickly awry as Nathanial pulled her aside.

“Give them room to talk,” he said.

“What is going on here?”

“I think he fancies her, and it looks as if the feeling is mutual.”

“They cannot…what are they doing? Courting?”

Nathanial shook his head, ducking—and failing—to hide a grin. “She is your mother, but she is also a woman. You fail to see her as such.”

Faith glanced at her mother, who seemed completely lost in quiet conversation with Miles.

“You all have been through so much heartache of late. Give her these moments of joy without begrudging her.”

Faith swallowed, but she nodded. “You are right, of course. I have forgotten my place.”

“Good, now come with me. Let us give them a moment to talk.” When she nodded her agreement, Nathanial took her hand and led her outside. They walked quietly along the path for a short time before he spoke. “What would you think of traveling? At least seeing some of the world before we settle in one spot.”

“I do not question where I wish to call home.”

“I understand, but why not open yourself to new opportunities? Soon we will have children. Our time alone is short. Why not spend it seeing what lies beyond Salem’s borders?”

“I have told you many times I do not want for what is beyond these borders. I do not have your sense of adventure, nor your thirst for a changing landscape. There is nothing out there for me.”

“How can you know that when you do not know what awaits?”

Doubts lashed at her. “You agreed, Nathanial. We agreed, and I trusted we did not do so on a basis of false pretenses.”

“I know your plans differed, but think of it, Faith. Think of how your mother has thrived since she left the confines of that home. I know it was Ruth’s home, but those memories are not inside the house. They are inside you. Why stay in a place where you are imprisoned by Burton’s whims, or those of his son?”

Nathanial had visited the Goodman. Her eyes narrowed. “You went to see him. What happened? Does he not wish for us to remain in the house?”

He hesitated, and her heart took a tumble.

“Tell me.”

He gathered her hands in his. “I ask not for him, but for you. I ask so that we can make a home, so that you and your mother can move forward—not to leave behind Ruth, but to gather those memories and move on to a place where there’s light.”

“You promised we would not
have
to move on.”

He shifted, and his grip on her hands loosened. “I did, and I stand by those words. But look at your mother—look at how she responds to living again. You know better than I how she radiates such joy. Perhaps this is the answer.”

She wanted to believe him, but he did not meet her eye as readily as he had before. She did not have time to fully explore her worries, however, for the pounding of footsteps up the path drew their attention.

The man, whom Faith recognized but did not know by name, stopped when he saw them. “Nathanial Abbot?” he called.

Nathanial and Faith exchanged looks, and then he touched her arm briefly before walking over.

Faith suspected he intended her to stay put, but she followed, earning a look of bemusement from Nathanial.

He would learn.

“Good morrow,” Nathanial said. “This is my intended, Faith. And you are?”

“A friend of John Danforth.”

“Ah. Danforth. In what kind of trouble has he found himself?”

The man hesitated over Faith.

“You may speak freely,” Nathanial said.

“He is in the custody of the magistrate.”

“Do you know why?”

“He asked only that I bring you to him, though he smells of piss and whiskey.”

“Who within the jail does not?” Faith muttered. When both men turned to her in surprise, she added, “I went one time seeking a visit with my aunt.”

Nathanial touched Faith’s shoulder. “Allow me a moment to see Faith back to—”

“The Goodman says the matter is urgent. He asks that you make haste.”

“Very well, then.” Of Faith he asked, “Do you mind if I see to him? I can return shortly to escort your mother home.”

She waved a hand. “Worry not. I can walk with her. It is not as if I am not going, anyway. Be safe.”

Nathanial touched the side of her face and smiled. He was so gentle, and how she longed for his kiss, but verily he would not risk kissing her on such a public road. He could well enough pay the fine, but to be branded as a rogue and a sinner would serve no purpose but to land him in jail alongside his friend.

She watched after him for a moment, then turned to the hill. It was a beautiful spot, and that he had brought her there—twice now—to share it with her warmed her thoroughly, despite the brisk morn. That he had seemed uneasy cut right through that.

Trust Nathanial.

He had been honest. As long as he remained true to his word, she could believe in him. But could she really leave Salem? She had said she would be willing to travel if they could still make their home there.
You cannot leave memories behind. They remain with you always.

Her aunt’s words chose that moment to drift through her, filling her with peace. Moving on had not seemed like an option, but without realizing it, she had done exactly that. Clearly, her mother had done the same.

“Your thoughts appear heavy.”

Startled, Faith looked for the source of the voice, disturbed to find Jeremiah standing a few feet from her, and she had not heard him approach. “What do you want?”

He frowned. “No need to be rude. Or have you become so taken with your prospective station as one of the Abbots that you cannot help your tongue?”

“You know very well the issue at hand.”

“Ah, but on which to focus? The fact that he got you kicked off my father’s land, or that Nathanial only wishes to marry you for the purpose of restoring his family name?”

The words hit her like a sheet of cold water. Though she wanted not to show he had affected her at all, she had no doubt shock blanched her face. She felt as if she could not move. She struggled to take breath, as if that icy realization had settled into her lungs and frozen the very core of her being. Though on some level she believed Jeremiah wanted nothing more than to upset her, his words nevertheless made their mark. She swallowed, nearly choking on the lump in her throat, and struggled to regain her composure.