Chapter Fourteen
WHEN JULIA ARRIVED at the wishing well, she performed the same ritual Evie used to call up the spirit of John Calderwood.
He was not best pleased to be aroused, and especially not by Julia.
‘What are you doing here, woman? I must conserve my energies. And you do not have the authority to summon me.’
‘I have come with a plea.’
‘A plea from a Shields? How are the mighty fallen.’
‘Yes, we are. And much is changing in Saxonhurst. I don’t have the manor any more. And it’s time you released Evie.’
‘You are talking nonsense. Release her? She is bound to me, by love as well as duty.’
‘Unbind her, then. Set her free. If you love her as you claim …’
‘If I set her free, then I die for all time. We will never be together. That is not what either of us desires.’
‘It would be best for the village.’
Calderwood roared with anger.
‘You dare tell me what is best for my village? You, you miserable little jumped-up heir of sycophants.’
‘All right. Keep your hold on Evie, if you must. But leave him alone.’
‘The preacher?’
‘Of course.’
‘You love him?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think about him. He does not deserve what you have planned for him. Let him go. Find some other way to be with Evie.’
‘There is no other way.’
‘If you will not leave him alone, then I will take him away from you. I will protect him. I don’t care what I have to do.’
‘He has to die. His predecessor –’
‘He is not Tribulation Smith! None of those others were either. He is a peaceable man, a little out of his depth, just beginning to know himself. He is an innocent.’
‘He wants his hands on Evie. He is not so innocent when it comes to her.’
‘I can keep him away from Evie. I can stop the repetition of history.’
‘You can’t.’
‘I will do everything it takes.’
‘Do what you will. He will die. And Evangeline and I shall live.’
It was a warm night, and Julia’s activities had certainly added to the heat, but after 20 minutes or so, Adam was starting to feel decidedly chilly. Stretched on the bed, without any covers, and with no means of getting them, he felt the cold keenly on his nipples, which throbbed in their suffering. He tried twisting his hands and feet, to keep the circulation going, then he worked at every strategy he could to wriggle out of the tightly tied ribbon, but nothing had any effect. Julia had trussed him up in fine style.
The cold intensified, beyond what he expected of an English summer night. Suddenly he was shivering, teeth chattering. It felt as if the seasons had done a dramatic and unannounced swap.
‘Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner,’ he muttered between his teeth. Perhaps here at last was God’s vengeance on him for all this fornication. He would have to bow to it, accept it as best he could. He had no defence prepared.