“Have you considered your options?” Mary asked.
“If they will not marry, what options do I have?”
I held my breath as I leaned a little closer to the door.
“You know what you must do,” Mercy said, her voice going lower. “When you’re in the taproom and an affliction comes upon you, simply call them out. With their strange markings,rumors about their mother, and Leah’s testimony, no one would doubt you.”
My pulse started to thrum. Leah’s testimony?
“Even their father will support your claims,” Mercy continued. “He is loyal to you, Susannah.”
“Heisloyal,” she agreed. “And he’s angry enough at Hope to see it done.”
“Then get it over with and move on with your life,” Mercy insisted. “It can be done this very night.”
I stiffened.
“I’m so tired,” Susannah complained. “’Tis not an easy thing to do with a babe growing inside me.”
“It will be worth the trouble,” Mercy assured her. “I could do it for you.”
“No. It will be better if I do it. The magistrates will trust me as Uriah’s wife who has seen things firsthand. Besides, Leah will speak for no one but me.”
“If you do it soon,” Mercy continued, “perhaps they’ll speed up the trials so they can hang with the rest on the 22nd.”
I stumbled back, panic choking me. If Susannah called out Grace and me, we would be arrested immediately and taken to the gaol. We would be questioned soon after and then put on trial. There was every possibility we could hang with Rachel and Ann in twelve days.
I had to find Grace. She had to know what they were planning.
The day I had feared was finally here.
The smell of roasted venison and woodsmoke filtered up the back stairs as I raced down into the kitchen. Grace stood near the hearth, using her apron to lift a lid and stir the bubbling contents.
She looked so comfortable—so at home in this space—evenif her thoughts were centuries away. What would I do if she was sent to the gaol? It would be miserable in that rat-infested building. No one deserved to be chained there, least of all an innocent person.
“Grace,” I said, looking around for Leah. Thankfully, there was no sign of her. She could not overhear our plans—even if I didn’t know what our plans were yet.
“You’re back.” Grace’s face was lined with worry and sadness as she took in my wet appearance. We’d had little time to talk this week, as I had gone to Salem Towne each day. “I heard the verdict. I’m heartbroken.”
I took her arm to lead her to the corner of the room, as far away from the stairs as possible. The spoon she held dripped sauce upon the floor, but I didn’t care. “I just overheard Susannah speaking to Mary Wolcott and Mercy Lewis.”
She made a face as she held her free hand under the spoon. “They’ve been here all afternoon.”
“Susannah is going to accuse us,” I said to her. “I just heard her tell Mercy. She’s going to have a fit of affliction and call us out—and she knows Father will not deny her.”
Grace’s face went pale as she shook her head.
“She’s going to do it, Grace. She wants us gone and doesn’t care how it happens.”
“How can they be so callous and cruel?” she asked, setting the spoon on the worktable. “’Tis murder, plain and simple.”
“’Tis sport to Mercy, as she said.”
“How can this be sport?” Grace paced away from me but then turned back. “What will we do? Run away?”
“That won’t work. Look at how many people they have dragged back to Salem.” There were only a few who had run away and succeeded, and most of them were wealthy with means to travel and lodge far from Massachusetts. Where could Grace and I go that we wouldn’t be found?
“What about our Quaker relatives?” she asked.
