Chapter 4
FOUR
Despite their dowdy black, Puritan-style cotton dresses, stiff white collars and plain linen coifs, the English sisters were beautiful women, and it did not go unnoticed by the men of Salem village.
All three women had the most stunning silver hair despite their young ages and the greenest eyes known to man.
Lenora, who had a wicked sense of humour and a strong dislike for the meeting house they were summoned to every Sunday along with the rest of the village, whispered to Seraphina as they waited in line to take their place on one of the hard wooden benches for the next three hours.
‘Did you see Ann Putnam’s face? I am sure she would have the reverend point his finger at us for having green eyes that are far too bright for their dull ways and get us put into the stocks, if she had her way.’
Seraphina cupped a hand to her mouth and whispered, ‘Stop it, Lenora, ’tis a good job you removed that silk bonnet before we came here. Imagine if you had not, we would all be in the stocks for you know they would say thee bartered with the devil for it.’
Lenora winked at her. ‘Green eyes, silk bonnets and red petticoats will surely get me in too much trouble. And perhaps I did barter with him for it, but oh how it would be worth it to see the looks on their faces. They are so cruel, I do not know why we sit here week after week and listen to such pompous drivel. If I did barter with the devil I’d barter to be free of this misery that is bestowed upon us every week for no good reason. ’
Lucine, who was the oldest of the three, finally tore her gaze away from the direction she had been staring. ‘Be quiet, you will get all of us lashed or put into the stocks. You know these people have no humour about them.’
Lenora turned to look in the direction that her sister had been staring and saw a man approaching on a beautiful, dapple-grey steed. He was wearing a deep red waistcoat that looked even brighter against the gloominess of the meeting house and the whiteness of his cotton shirt.
‘Who be that?’ she whispered.
Seraphina turned to stare. ‘May the Lord forgive me; he is handsome is he not?’
Lucine nodded her head, unable to stop herself from glancing back at him. He was wearing a hat that he tipped in their direction.
‘Good morning, ladies, a beautiful one it is too.’
All three of them cupped hands to their mouths to stifle the giggles wanting to escape.
Seraphina and Lenora looked down at the ground.
Lucine looked into his eyes that were darker than the feathers on the black bird that sat amongst the tree top and felt as if she had been drawn into the depths of his soul.
‘Good morning, sir,’ she added, almost as an afterthought.
He was clearly not from Salem village, but he might still be as set in his ways as the rest of the Puritans, but she did not believe so.
Puritan men would dare not to dress so flamboyantly as this man smiling at her.
They were the last to go into the meeting house, all the other villagers were now inside, taking their seats, so she dared to smile at him.
‘Forgive us, we have to attend the reverend’s sermon.’
He nodded. ‘’Tis a pity. Tell me where I can get some sustenance and a place to lay my head for I have travelled a long distance, foolishly to my dismay in the wrong direction. And now I need to rest both my weary head and my horse, who I blame entirely for this grave error of misdirection.’
Lucine pointed to the wooden building across from the meeting house. ‘That is Ingersoll’s Ordinary, there will be rooms and food there.’
‘Thank you, I hope we meet again before I continue my journey.’
Lucine smiled again, her heart beating too fast inside of her chest, she hoped so too. This man, whoever he was, intrigued her.
Two arms dragged her through the door into the dark, stuffy building.
Every man, woman and child were staring in their direction.
All three of them scurried to the last spaces on the very back row and sat down, their heads bowed until all those eyes that had been watching them turned back to face the Reverend Higginson instead.
Lucine’s heart was beating so hard she could hear it thumping inside of her head.
The reverend’s words were like the buzzing of a fly as they droned on.
His monotone voice a sure way to send any of the congregation to sleep the way he did not even pause for breath.
Lucine thought he was a nice man, he was not cruel like the Putnams, and he always smiled at the sisters, but she was tired of all this religion.
She had thought she was happy with her life, the cottage on the edge of the woods they all lived and worked in, but that was before the man in the red waistcoat had smiled at her.
Now she was questioning everything she knew and wondering what the strange fluttering inside of her chest was.
When the reverend finally ran out of words some three hours later, a collective sigh echoed around the stuffy room.
At least seven children had been poked with the big, long stick that the reverend’s assistant used to jab anyone caught sleeping or not paying attention.
Lucine had been glad that the man with the stick, Edward Carter, was not very tall and could not see past the rows of heads to pay any heed of where her attention was because it had not been on the reverend’s words, that was for certain.
Her mind kept replaying the man on the horse’s words to them all and she wondered what he was called or if she would see him again.
The villagers did not take too kindly to men such as the traveller; they were untrustworthy of strangers and even more so when they were as handsome and polite as he had been.
Lucine wished that she had asked him his name.
What did she think he would be called? He did not look like a John and of that she would be pleased for there were far too many Johns here already.
John Proctor, John Willard, Judges John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, although those two lived in Salem town and for that they were thankful because they were meaner than a hungry bear, it was as if their parents had no thought to call them different to each other.
‘What are you doing, Lucine?’
Lenora’s voice was so sharp it tickled the inside of her ear, and she snapped out of the daydream she had been lost in.
‘Nothing.’
‘It most certainly did not look like nothing. Pay attention, the reverend is asking questions about his sermon.’
Lucine felt the gentle flutter in her chest turn into a storm as it gathered strength at the thought of him asking her what he had preached about for three hours. As he walked towards the sisters he paused and smiled at them. ‘Good to see all of you here, I hope you enjoyed it.’
Seraphina nodded her head vigorously. ‘Wonderful as ever, Reverend, thank you for such an insightful sermon. You have given me plenty to think about this coming week.’
He smiled broadly at Seraphina, and Lucine noticed his cheeks, which were rounded and rosy most of the time, colour a little deeper. He turned and walked away quickly, and Lucine felt the storm that was raging inside of her begin to subside.
Seraphina whispered, ‘You owe me, dear sister. Come, let us get out of here and back home where we can discuss the good reverend’s sermon in great depth.’
Seraphina winked at Lenora and Lucine, the gentlest, quickest of winks that should anyone question, she could say she blinked. For she knew that Ann Putnam was always watching the three of them as closely as a hawk watches the field mouse it wants to scoop into its claws and swallow whole.