Page 5 of The Witch

“Yes, I am finally with child.” I offer a weak smile. “Our prayers have been answered, and soon we will have our son.”

His entire face lights up. “I knew it! Oh, Caroline, you have made me so very happy.”

My husband devours the rest of his breakfast with gusto, until there is not one scrap of food left on his plate. He kisses me again before he goes, and then he reaches for my hand, as if reluctant to let me go.

“Is today a market day, my wife?” he asks me.

“Yes.”

He frowns. “Must you go? You can send Molly in your stead.”

“Do not worry,” I tell him. “I venture to the market every week.”

Archie casts a fretful look down at my midsection. “I do not want you to suffer an accident. And I heard that two nights past, another girl was found…”

His words send a chill down my spine, although the house is admittedly drafty. There have been three girls found strangled to death in the last year in Woodhaven. Most families no longer permit their daughters to leave the home after nightfall, for fear of this demon stalking our town. Woodhaven is only a small settlement without any real constabulary, and all we have is a sheriff, although he recently deputized his son-in-law to help with the search. The men in town have been volunteering shifts on night watch. While I realize that such a thing is needed, the nights when Archie is gone from our bed are torment.

Alas, the sheriff and the deputy have not yet found the man who has committed these terrible crimes. There is not even a suspect.

But he does have a nickname:

The Night Reaper.

It is a name that I have heard whispered amongst children at the market. A name said while giggling but also with an undertone of fear. Get home before dark, or the Night Reaper will get you!

“I will not stay out past nightfall,” I promise.

“There is no rule,” Archie says sternly, “that he cannot harm you during the daylight.”

I want to chastise him for his concern, but I would be lying if I said that I do not have fears of my own. This man has squeezed the life out of three maidens. “I shall tread with care.”

He stands there for a moment, a sober expression on his face. “You know where I stow my musket.”

“I do.”

Archie bows his head in acceptance. He works long hours, and he realizes that he cannot keep me from leaving Pemberton when he is gone. We live far from Town Square, far enough that I must ride my horse to get there, far enough that we have only one neighbor within easy walking distance, which gives us a feeling of seclusion from the rest of Woodhaven. Most days, I relish the privacy we have in our home.

But I also fear that if somebody did intrude when Archie was away, nobody would hear me scream.

“I cherish you, Caroline,” Archie says in a soft voice.

“I cherish you likewise,” I say back.

It was a great honor to be asked for my hand by such a wealthy and esteemed merchant, who had already lost one wife to a fevered illness. While I appreciate the comforts of living with a wealthy merchant, it is Archie’s devotion and affection that have made him an ideal husband.

Yes, I will give Archie the son he dreams of.

I must.

My husband takes off in the direction of the docks, leaving me behind. Not for the first time, I am seized with the desire to beg him not to go. Not that I believe the Night Reaper is crouched in the woods, waiting to pounce, but today of all days, it feels something is amiss. I cannot put my finger on it.

I will be safe here though. I am unable to articulate exactly why, but I have always felt a sense of deep security in Pemberton. There is something about it—a sense that the estate is a fortress that will protect me from evildoing. Perhaps it is the iron knocker on the door, which was fashioned back in England into the shape of a fierce bear, ready to pounce on its victim. It is my guardian. I relayed this to Archie one occasion, and he only nodded indulgently—he has lived in Pemberton his entire life and would never understand.

But before I can close the door, I hear a rustling in the brambles near the house.

3

My chest suddenly feels as though there are dozens of butterflies fluttering about. Archie has already disappeared on his horse, long out of earshot. Someone is lurking in the woods, watching me. Could it be the Night Reaper?