As soon as the magistrates could be summoned, my questioning would begin. Tonight, as I had planned, I would probably be in the Salem gaol.
A shiver ran through me as I closed my eyes. My first inclination was to ask God to protect me, to give me the right words, to open the eyes of the court to see the foolishness of their ways.
But then I remembered what Isaac had told me. God knew what I needed more than I did. So I simply asked if He would sit with me, to be my Comfort, my Peace, my Rock amidst the storm. A gentle warmth filled my heart as I envisioned sitting in the presence of God, not worrying about what would happen, but trusting Him.
A knock came at the door, and I opened my eyes, surprised that the magistrates had come so soon. But when the door opened, it was Isaac who entered.
I stood, my heart pounding at his arrival. He took two giant steps across the room and engulfed me in his embrace. I pressed my cheek against his chest, tears coming to my eyes as I wrapped my arms around him. He was warmth and strength and all that was good in Salem Village.
“How could Grace do this to you?” His voice was choked, desperate.
“I told her to.”
“What?” He pulled back, his blue eyes filled with confusion.
I explained what I had heard Susannah planning and how I had begged Grace to accuse me. “’Tis the only way to keep her out of the gaol.”
He put his hands on either side of my face and shook his head. “My beautiful, impetuous girl. What have you done?”
“I couldn’t see her suffer.”
He ran his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping away my tears. “I’ve never loved you more than I do right now, Hope Eaton.”
I inhaled as he lowered his lips to mine, kissing me with an intensity that left me dazed. My hands went to his waist, and I grasped his coat, trying to pull him closer, wanting to be fully enveloped by this courageous, loving man.
He deepened the kiss at my prompting but quickly pulled back, drawing a ragged breath. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, holding on to him. “Don’t be.”
“I can’t stay long,” he said. “The magistrates will be here soon.”
“I know.” I felt a calmness that defied understanding. “I’ll be fine. God hath given me peace.”
He shook his head in wonder as he ran a thumb over my swollen lip, tender from his kisses. “I will do whatever I can to free you. I promise.”
“I plan to confess.”
“Confess to what?”
“To witchcraft. ’Tis part of my plan.”
He frowned. “What are you saying?”
“Don’t you see? ’Tis the only way to be safe from the gallows. Everyone who confesses is allowed to stay in the gaol and hath not been called before the grand jury.”
“For now—but what about later?” He was adamant. “’Tis not worth lying about something so evil, Hope.”
“But they won’t believe the truth, so I must tell them what their itching ears want to hear. They are the ones in the wrong, not me.”
“How will you stand before God if you do this thing?”
“He will understand. He knows I am innocent and they are guilty.”
There was movement on the road in front of the ordinary.
“The magistrates have arrived,” I said.
Uncertainty clung to Isaac as he pressed his lips to my forehead. “I long to see you free, but I also long for you to have a clean conscience before the Lord. Do what you feel is best, and I will trust that it is the right decision.”
