I thought back to the past few days since Hope’s flight. I hadn’t noticed any difference in Luc’s behavior toward my sister. If anything, he seemed more reserved, quieter, more contemplative as theOceanicmade its way to New York.
“Has he mentioned the kiss since then?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.
She shook her head. “Not once.”
Relief surprised me, and I masked my response by wiping my hands together to remove the soil.
“What do you think it means?” she prodded.
How could I tell my sister the truth without injuring her? “If a man loves a woman, he wants to be with her, sit with her, talk to her—return her kisses if he’s invited to. She’s all hecan think about, and he does everything in his power to be at her side.” I studied her and gently said, “Luc treats you with respect and admiration, but I haven’t seen anything that tells me he’s in love with you.”
The look on her face shifted, and she became defensive. “You’re only saying that because you’ve never liked him. You don’t want me to be in love with him.”
I frowned. “That’s not true—”
“I thought that you were starting to like him.”
“I do like him,” I said, feeling defensive, too.
“Then why would you say such horrible things?”
“You wanted the truth, so I’m giving it to you.” I stood, wanting her to understand. “I don’t want to discourage you—but I also don’t want you to get hurt. He either loves you or he doesn’t. You can’t force him to care for you.”
She looked down at her calloused hands, and I could see she was fighting the truth.
“Do you even know him?” I asked. “His hopes and dreams? How he feels or thinks or what he believes?”
Hope shook her head. “He doesn’t open up with me about personal things.”
“Then perhaps,” I said quietly, “that’s another sign. If he loved you, he would be willing to share those parts of himself with you.”
She finally lifted her face, determination in her gaze. “I can’t give up. I’m in love with him, and I want him to love me, too.”
I sighed, knowing there was nothing more I could say. I didn’t want to talk about her feelings for Luc or his feelings for her. I’d rather not think about it.
Instead, I said, “We should probably not speak of him here.” I looked at the ordinary with a pointed glance. “You never know who is listening.”
We still didn’t know how much Leah had heard or understood the night Ann Pudeator visited. She didn’t say a word—notto us or anyone else. I wanted to ask others what they knew about our mother, but it was too great a risk. We would have to wait until Isaac could travel to Sandwich and see what he learned.
Hope was quiet for a moment, then walked away from me.
Would Luc ever return her feelings? And if he did, how would that change things—for all of us?
The Meeting House was so full, I could hardly breathe. There had been several questionings before now, but Mary Warren’s would be the most important thus far. Since she had been an afflicted girl and was now accused of being a witch, people were curious. Would the truth come out? Would the magistrates believe Mary?
So many people had assembled that there wasn’t enough room for everyone to sit. Spectators stood at the back of the room, in the balcony, and outside, peering in through the open windows.
Hope and I had come early and found spots on a bench near the front of the room, just behind the afflicted victims. John Indian was there, sitting off to the side.
The noise in the room was so great, I could barely hear Hope as she whispered in my ear with laughter, “What would they think if they saw me flying? Would they think me a witch, too?”
“Hush,” I warned her. “Don’t say anything you wouldn’t want repeated.”
I couldn’t help but think about what I had read four years ago. We only had six months left in Salem—at what point was I supposed to accuse Hope? And how would it come about? I still couldn’t believe it was possible. I didn’twantto believe it was possible.
The afflicted girls sat quietly in front of us. Mary Wolcott andAbigail Williams were knitting while Mercy Lewis, Ann Putnam, and Elizabeth Hubbard whispered in each other’s ears. There were several others now, but these five led the accusations—and seemed to thrive on the attention and power.
Susannah arrived beside Father. Seats had been saved for them near the table where the magistrates, John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, were sitting. Reverend Parris had been appointed to take notes. Several of the Putnam family were there, as well.
