“I find it strange that he knows everything about my life and I know next to nothing about his. All he will tell me is that he came from a well-to-do family in Camden and was sent off to school at a young age. Whenever I inquire about his past, he merely mutters something to the effect of: ‘my history began with my calling as Watcher’... I suppose a child can never truly know his parents…Susan never seemed to care; she was always quite practical-minded and never understood my fascination with people and their secrets…”
~From the diary of William Wells; July 23rd, 1685
~*~
“No! He did nothing wrong! He wouldn’t hurt anyone! Uncle please, please, I am here by choice!” Elizabeth cried.
William had been torn from her. He couldn’t fight; he didn’t even bother to try. Hanging his head in despair, he allowed himself to be taken into the custody of the mob. Two of them seized his arms while the constable bound his wrists in chains behind his back. Elizabeth ran to them, trying desperately to claw these despicable men away from her William—the man who would soon be her husband. But he wasn’t even attempting to reach her; he simply shook his head, his stormy blue eyes large and sad.
“I have to go. I will fight it, Elizabeth,” he murmured, as if it were only the two of them still in the room, “I’ll tell ‘em the truth.”
With that, he turned and allowed his captors to lead him out into the snow, touched by the first pale glow of day.
“William! Uncle, please! Please…” she whimpered, tears cascading down her heated cheeks.
She tried to follow them as she was: wrapped only in a quilt and barefoot, but before she could get far, a powerful grip grabbed her shoulders, tearing her back into the barn and causing her to stumble.
“Modesty, girl! I understand you have undergone great trauma, and that disgusting man has no doubt poisoned your thoughts and deeds; but you must pull yourself together! With time, you shall heal,” the Reverend said.
Elizabeth certainly felt in no condition to calm herself—she was terrified and furious and beyond desperate. She began to slip into hysterics, struggling against this horrible tyrant of a man who refused to listen or believe.
“You’re a fool, Nathaniel, if you believe William to be a disgusting man! He is innocent!” she fumed, “Release him! Speak to Mr. Giles if you will not believe me!”
Suddenly, before her brain could register what had happened, she recoiled and cringed when a sharp sting slammed across her cheek, leaving her head throbbing dully. Elizabeth shrunk away from him, cupping the side of her face that would soon be swollen from the impact of her uncle’s palm. She glared back at him with seething hatred, pure and glittering, no longer willing to hide her opinions behind a sweet smile. He shook with fury, a frightening fire she had never seen before burning fiercely in his dark eyes. Harshly, he removed his outer cloak, throwing it about her shoulders before covering her hair with his hat.
“You will not speak to me in such a manner. Ever. Again. I wield a great deal of power here, little girl. As my wife’s niece, I cannot punish you properly for such defiance and disrespect; but one word from me, and your lover’s head rolls. Do we understand each other?” he hissed through gritted teeth.
Refusing to look at him, Elizabeth dropped her head hopelessly and bit her tongue. Nathaniel abandoned her briefly then to speak with one of his men waiting outside. Listening behind the door, she just barely heard her uncle’s low words: “…threatened status in the community. Do not, under any circumstances, speak of how they were found.”
Elizabeth turned her back quickly the moment he stepped inside the barn. Without any further acknowledgement to his niece, he guided her outside by the small of her back and placed her on his horse.
--
The ride was a blur. Elizabeth’s eyes glazed over, seeing nothing of the frozen countryside. The men rode far ahead with William—so far she couldn’t even see them in the distance. Mr. Giles accompanied the group unwillingly. She’d overhead tidbits of a shouting match between him and Nathaniel, only catching: “We had an agreement!” and then “That agreement extends only to you—not to some criminal to whom you give refuge!” But in the end, like William, the Watcher had also opted not to resist; he’d simply nodded miserably, agreeing to be questioned while quietly promising to fight.
No. It can’t be lost. I refuse to believe that everything is lost. They’ll see—they’ll see that he’s innocent, and they’ll let him go. And then he and I can flee under cover of darkness. The Reverend walked briskly before her, roughly pulling the dark black horse that carried his niece. Fur black as raven’s feathers. Like the water in the pond. He did not speak to Elizabeth nor look back at her once, and for that, she was grateful. Her consciousness became frozen away, hiding in the back of her mind from this terrible reality in which she’d become so cruelly entrapped.
Only minutes had passed, it seemed, before the long day’s ride reached a conclusion and twilight slipped across the icy land. A dream. It’s all a dream. I will wake in William’s arms. “What is it, sweetheart? Tell me,” he’ll say. And I will tell him that I dreamt the town drew us back into its jaws, swallowing us whole, grinding our bones. And he’ll say, “It’s only a dream, Elizabeth. I’m here. I’m always here.”
“Oh my gosh! Lizzie! Oh, dear Lizzie! I knew you were well! I knew it! Everyone said you were dead, but I knew you weren’t! You’re too strong to die!”
Once her uncle lifted her off the horse, Elizabeth stared blankly at the two-story brick house with the vegetable and herb garden stretching out from the warm glow of the hearth in the kitchen. The place that had been her home in another lifetime—when she was a different person. Dawn’s gangly arms wrapped around her tightly as she pounced on her cousin.
“Dawn!” the Reverend barked, “Your cousin has endured a dreadful ordeal! Step back at once and give her space to breathe.”
Elizabeth’s glazed eyes continued to stare straight ahead; and she numbly responded to her cousin’s embrace, lightly patting the girl’s back. With her father’s sharp correction, Dawn quickly moved away, her blue eyes shining with joy and relief.
“You’re here, Lizzie. You’re really here. You’re home now,” the girl murmured lovingly as if to reassure herself, her voice breaking with tears.
“Get inside, Dawn, and assist your mother. Elizabeth must have something to eat,” the Reverend ordered.
Dawn nodded, and quickly bolted up the stairs to the front stoop two at a time.
Elizabeth trudged forward in preparation to follow her cousin inside for the inevitable joyful reunion, but Nathaniel forced a hand in front of her before she could continue.
“A word, please, Elizabeth, before we go indoors?”
“Yes?” she sighed.
The Reverend’s voice dropped to a raspy hush before he continued, “I am willing to bargain with you.”
“On what grounds?” Elizabeth replied skeptically, raising her brow.
“He can live. I’ll manipulate the sentence so that it falls on banishment instead of death. They can both go back to England. And additionally, I will preserve your modesty and good name.”
“If…?”
“Testify at the trial. Help us convict him. It matters little what you say—slight elaborations of kidnap, terror, and rape should suffice. And then afterwards, when they are gone, you shall marry Riley Finn.”
“Why?” she whispered, “What exactly is your investment in this?”
“I’m offering you a chance to save his life, girl. If you refuse my terms, he will hang, and then you'll be forced to follow my will, regardless. The choice is yours.”
“Then yes. I accept,” she replied.
The Reverend nodded curtly and gestured for her to step inside. Before she passed over the threshold, he said softly, “The truth dies with us.”
Elizabeth nodded with her back to him and walked inside.
I’m going to bring you down, Nathaniel Redding. Everyone will hear my testimony, and the truth shall set us free.
--
The next few hours whirred past quickly. Food was placed before her and taken away, and Elizabeth picked at her plate politely, unconsciously. Jenny fussed over her continually—fed her, dressed her, wept in reprieve at her niece’s return.
“It is all right, Elizabeth. Rest yourself now. You needn’t speak until you are ready. I promise you will feel much better after a good night’s sleep. Come dear, come upstairs. Here is an extra blanket for you to keep out the chill. Leave the candle lit tonight. Take my arm darling, let us get you into bed.”
She nodded at her aunt dazedly, allowing the older woman to move and guide her as if she were a small child. For long, uncounted minutes, Elizabeth lay flat on her back in bed, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. Her forehead crinkled in deep contemplation as she organized her plans. Think, Elizabeth. Keep your head in this. I have to speak. If I can just get there, I can— The door opened and closed softly, and stockinged feet padded across the floorboards; but she didn’t care enough to respond to the intrusion. The cot beside her creaked lightly.
“Lizzie? Lizzie, can you hear me?”
Sighing heavily, since she knew it was too late to pretend to sleep, Elizabeth slowly sat upright, turning to face her cousin.
“Yes,” she replied, her throat scratchy from lack of use, “I’m here. I think I’m here.”
Letting out a nervous little laugh, Dawn took both of Elizabeth’s hands in her own and offered a friendly smile with awkwardly forced levity.
“I knew you’d come back…It’s been so hard without you, Lizzie. Mother and I—we tried…we tried searching for you. We tried to start a party in town to scout through the woods. But Father, he…he said it was God’s will that you’d gone. He said you were dead. That the Lord told him so. But you’re not,” she ended in a whisper, smiling in relief.
“No. I guess I’m not.”
“Lizzie can I ask you…what happened? If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand,” the girl added hastily, “I completely understand. I mean, I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like. But I want to—if you want to tell me—I’m here. I’m here to listen to anything you need to say.”
Elizabeth looked away vacantly, remaining silent. No one—not even Dawn. She’s trapped in this world—far too naïve…Dawn’s expression fell, but she nodded in understanding.
“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Not now….Um, well, I’ve been reading since you left. Every single night. I knew you wouldn’t want me to quit, so I didn’t. You’d be proud, Lizzie! I can read a little of it—the book, your special book—I can understand a little now,” Dawn said, fidgeting uncomfortably at Elizabeth’s lack of response before she tried another subject, “I heard Mother and Father talking a little while ago…” she started again quietly, “His trial begins tomorrow. Since what he did to you was absolutely horrible…You should speak out—testify against him, you know? Your word might help the case. Lizzie…Say something. Please.”
Elizabeth dropped her eyes and clenched her jaw. She knew there was no possible way she could convey it, even if she could share the true nature of her relationship with William. How everything had changed…there was no possible way the girl could ever understand.
Dawn’s brows knitted together in a deep frown as her bottom lip trembled. It might’ve been endearing if circumstances were different.
“I hate that terrible man. I can’t believe he’s done this to you.”
“Shut. Your. Mouth,” Elizabeth uttered icily, but instantly bit her lip in guilt and worry once the words escaped. Damn it! She doesn’t know. I can’t expect her to know. It’s not her fault.
“Elizabeth?” Dawn murmured in shock, clearly wounded as her tears threatened to spill over at the sting of her cousin’s unexpected words.
Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly, drawing a deep breath to calm herself as best she could. She tried to think quickly, to construct a lie that might suffice; but she was simply too tired to put forth the effort. And it was Dawn—her beloved cousin, surely she could…
Her voice sounded flat and lifeless when she could finally speak again. “This place. This town. This is Hell…I’m in Hell. It’s like I’ve been in Heaven. Like I got to see it for a little while. And then I was ripped away. Torn out of it. It’s not real. I feel like it’s not real.”
“Hell? Lizzie, I don’t—“
“I love him,” she whispered quickly, nearly choking on the words, “I love him more than I have ever loved in all my waking life. He took me, at first…but then…he let me see him. He let me see his world, and I became part of it. I stayed, not out of force, but because I wanted to be with him. He never harmed me—he would never…he would never hurt anyone. He’s a great man, Dawn. Better than any other I have known.”
Dawn stared at the older girl in wide-eyed, shocked silence as her mouth dropped open. Her voice wavered uncertainly. “William Wells. Your kidnapper.”
Elizabeth shook her head glumly. “There’s so much you don’t understand. I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to understand it, or believe it. I pray you will, that one day…The world isn’t what we thought, Dawn. There’s so much more…”
“You love this man.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied sharply before gripping her cousin’s shoulders and shaking her lightly, “But—but Dawn, you have to promise me that you will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Not Janice, not your mother—“
“Okay okay,” Dawn answered uneasily, prying herself out of the older girl’s grasp, “I won’t, I promise. But…why, Lizzie?”
“Because I—I’m going to tell the truth. At the trial…If your father knew about what I’m planning to say, he would never let me attend.”
“All right. I trust you, Lizzie. Won’t say a word, cross my heart,” she said gently.
Elizabeth fell silent, hanging her head as tears returned to cloud her vision. Dawn stood and moved to sit down on the cot beside her cousin. After tucking her long legs beneath her, she wrapped her arm around the older girl’s shoulders, lightly smoothing her fingers through the corn silk tresses. She tried to give comfort, though she didn’t understand what hurt, exactly, she was soothing. Flinching at the touch, Elizabeth disentangled herself from Dawn’s embrace and abruptly lay down again, facing the opposite wall as she curled into a fetal position. Words could not convey what she knew, how she felt, how she’d changed.
“I can’t…Dawn, I can’t anymore, right now…Will you please inform your mother that I will attend the trial tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’ll tell her,” Dawn replied, sniffing.
Elizabeth knew she’d never be able to fall asleep without him, but she feigned exhaustion anyway, if for no other reason than to be left alone. She listened to Dawn wash her face in the porcelain basin, dress for bed, and finally crawl into her cot before blowing out the candle. Once the young girl began to snore, Elizabeth reached beneath her mattress where she’d carefully hidden the knife hours ago. Before her uncle had torn her away from the barn, she’d managed to snatch her precious gift and hide it in her boot. And in all the commotion, no one had even noticed the small, silver ring she wore on her engagement finger. After lightly kissing the blade of the small knife and cradling it against her heart, Elizabeth twisted the ring about her finger, admiring the serpents as they consumed one another in an eternal dance, the glittering cerulean bead shared between them. Tears might have come, had she any left.
--
I can do this. I need to be here. To say what I have to say. We’ll get through this. Elizabeth reassured herself over and over again as her aunt pulled her by the elbow while they climbed the stone stairs that led to the large double-doors of Town Hall. The trial had begun more than an hour or so ago, but Jenny had refused to give her niece permission to endure the official proceedings in their entirety.
“You’re still frail and weak, Elizabeth. You mustn’t push yourself so hard…It is so very brave of you to testify against that horrible man. Do not worry, darling, he will pay for his sins,” she’d said in that light sing-song voice—the one she used when talking to little babes. Jenny had been terribly careful with her niece since waking her that morning, handling Elizabeth like a pretty trinket made of glass. The older woman had even insisted on helping her into a dress, lest she keel over whilst stepping into it on her own. It was a Puritan dress, of course. Elizabeth had forgotten how it felt to wear a rust-colored bag and an itchy, stiff bonnet; as well as having her forehead pulled back with the tightness of stabbing hairpins. I’ve truly returned to the world without color.
Jenny opened one of the doors a crack, quietly ushering Elizabeth inside. The interior of the hall was grander than any building Elizabeth had ever seen. The ceiling was high, sloping in a dramatic arch, with deep, mahogany-stained walls. A long aisle with rows of benches on either side led to a raised platform in the front. The British flag hung from the ceiling at the front of the room, sweeping nearly to the floor. On one side of the platform sat a row of half a dozen judges. Most of them she’d never seen before; she recognized only the magistrate, and her uncle, of course. They all wore black robes and sat stiffly upright and motionless on their benches. Sitting opposite in a lone chair, was William.
Elizabeth’s heart soared in her chest and butterflies swarmed in her belly in the sheer joy and elation at merely seeing him again. The separation had been an eternity of torture, though no more than a day had passed. Despite the dread and horror of the situation, a smile spread over Elizabeth’s lips, and she felt as though no other person was present—not the judges, not the rows of observers, not Jenny—only him. Naturally he saw her right away, as though he could sense her comforting presence the moment she stepped through the door. His slumped, tired posture lifted slightly, and the dark circles under his eyes looked a bit less severe. At once, Elizabeth’s arms ached to rush over to him and gather him up in a warm embrace. Desperately, she needed to kiss his brow tenderly and cradle his head against her breast as she whispered words of love in his ear. She alone had the power to save him.
Since all his strength and attention had shifted to Elizabeth, William entirely missed whatever question had just been addressed to him. Angrily, the magistrate cleared his throat, gripping a gavel in one hand.
“Mr. Wells! Defense of your life clearly means little to you, as your attention wanes so easily! For the final time—inform us of your whereabouts on the night that the babe, Eleanor Anderson, disappeared.”
Elizabeth remained frozen in the entryway until her aunt calmly pushed her into a bench in the back. After they were seated, the older woman continued to grasp her niece’s hand, petting it lightly. She clearly interpreted Elizabeth’s stress and swell of emotions as being part of her fear of seeing her “attacker” again.
“I, uh, I dunno. Up in the woods, near the pond. I wasn’t in town till the following night,” William answered absently, his tone dry and weary.
“And what exactly were you doing prowling about after curfew? Searching for more victims? Kidnapping?! Or perhaps looking for other women to interfere with as you have done most abhorrently with Miss Summers?”
“No! I didn’t lay a finger on that kid! Or her. I would never...” he erupted in a flash of anger.
In a way, it was a relief to know that he was still there, that his spark and passion hadn’t been entirely broken.
“Then why, pray tell, was the child discovered buried in a grove of trees with fatal wounds on her neck? A grove where you have been seen lurking on more than one occasion?”
A sob erupted from the far front corner of the room. Goody Anderson wept uncontrollably in her husband’s arms as he tried to hush her, glancing about in embarrassment.
“I already told you,” William growled, “I found her like that. She was dead—I tried—there was nothin’ I could do. So outta respect, yeah, I buried her.”
“You buried that poor child to conceal evidence! You thought you could just get away with it, you miserable bastard!” a heated voice shouted from a few benches in front of Elizabeth.
Ignoring the outburst, the magistrate continued, “If you indeed found her in such a state, Mr. Wells, then why did you not notify the proper authorities and turn the body over so that she might have a proper Christian burial?”
“Cause I couldn’t bloody well notify the proper authorities!”
“And why is that?”
“Because of what killed her.”
“So you witnessed the murder?”
“No,” William seethed, gritting his teeth as his whole body tensed.
“Then how can you possibly know with certainty—“
William’s eyes flashed, and Elizabeth could see the struggle within, how badly he wanted to simply reveal the outlandish truth he’d first spoken to her only months before. A truth that tore reality apart. A truth no one in their right mind would believe.
“I do know with certainty, but I—I can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand it.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips as a murmur of quiet laughter fell over both the judges and the observers.
“That’s quite a clever defense you have for yourself, Mr. Wells. If you wish to save your neck, you’ll have to do better than that.”
“Wanker…you’d piss yourself if you ever saw what I’ve seen,” William hissed under his breath.
“Mind your tongue, Mr. Wells! Such language will not be tolerated in this court!” Reverend Nathaniel snapped.
“If you refuse to answer our questions, Mr. Wells, then you may use the only remaining right of the accused at your disposal and have another speak on your behalf. Though with a case as hopeless as yours, I do not think anyone would take up the challenge. But I suppose I shall openly ask the court regardless. Is there anyone present willing to attest to the character of this man? Is there anyone who may persuade these judges to spare him, despite evident guilt?”
A smooth, calming voice spoke from the far back of the hall.
“I will speak for the accused.”
Everyone quickly swiveled around in their benches to see who might be insane enough for the task. A cacophony of whispered conversations erupted as an austere elder man, his hair turning a dignified shade of grey, began to walk slowly down the aisle. His posture was strong, tall, and resolute; and his eyes remained frozen intently on the row of judges as he stepped forth, his deep charcoal cloak billowing behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to spot Elizabeth, and she felt sure that he winked at her as he passed. With his chin proudly raised, he halted before the platform.
“I am prepared to defend this man.”
“No, you may not, Mr. Giles. You are a known consort of his and are also under investigation. We may not have enough evidence for a charge, but you certainly are not innocent in this,” the Reverend declared hastily.
“Come now, Nathan. This charade has gone on long enough. Don’t you think it’s about time these people learned the truth?”
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