Page 14 of Damnation
“Mine. All of it. I’ll spend every last pence if that’s what it shall take.”
I shake my head. “And you would leave Ann? Your children? As easy as that?”
“My children have grown to hate me at the hand of Ann, there is nothing for me here, except you,” he says, rubbing his hand against my stomach.
“I won’t leave Dorothy,” I say.
“Nor would I expect it. She is a fine young girl. You’ve raised her well, and she deserves more than William could ever give. You both do.”
A tear falls from my eye, this one not from pain nor sadness.
“This is madness! You do understand that, do you not?”
“That isn’t a no, my love.” He grins.
“Well, of course not! How could a woman refuse such an offer from the man she loves?”
Thomas’s smile beams, turning to ensure we are alone before his lips meet mine. A feeling of anticipation, of excitement for what is to come, races through me as he pulls away.
“Until spring, we shall remain steadfast and strong. I shall provide whatever thou needs to keep William pacified. If he so much as lifts a finger to you, I will have no choice but to shoot him dead.”
I shake my head. “I cannot ask that of you.”
“You did not. I insisted upon it,” he says, digging into his pocket and dropping five shillings into my hand.
“I shall bring more to the creek each week. Whatever the both of you need,” he says as he looks down at my stomach.
Reluctantly, I nod.
“I…I love thee, Thomas Putnam.”
“I love thee, Sarah Putnam.”
My stomach flutters at his words, at the sound of our names joined together. It is a blissful sound, one I have no right to hear, yet I never want to be referred to as anything else from this day on.
Chapter Six
Thomas
My God, forgive me for what I have done, for not only have I bathed in sin, a child is now the product of our adultery. Lord, forgive me because I’m not sorry. I want her, I want them both.
Surely, I will still provide for Ann and my children. I am not a heartless man, but I have also been a hollow one for years. My own kin slowly turned against me, by their mother, no less, till I am nothing but a barely tolerated wallet for their benefits.
Sarah, though…she wants for nothing with me but…me. She craves my time, not my coin. She desires my touch, not the life I can provide. Therefore, she deserves the entire world around us. I need Sarah, not only in my life as she has been, but in my home, in my arms. Where she belongs.
The morality war raging inside me is a fierce one, there is no doubt. I may provide justifications of my morals and actions, though I hath no doubt not another soul alive would see it through my eyes. Sarah and I would be condemned, shunned, possibly even harmed.
I cannot let that happen. I will not.
Though I’d love nothing more than to speak with my brother or even my best friend about this, I know I ought not to. For my brother is a judgmental arse, and my best friend is the reverend of our town. Surely both would press myself to death by way of stone rather than grasp the depth of my affections for Sarah Good.
So, for now, I shall stay silent. No doubt, when spring comes along with our departure, there will be talk. There will be judgment and vile words spewed. None of that matters, though. We will be long gone, beginning our new life with my own new family, and though guilt and confliction rises inside of me, ‘tis not nearly as loud or powerful of the excitement at what is to come.
Tucking away my journal, I look up from my seat in the tavern to hear a commotion occur down the road. Curious, I stand from my chair and rush outside to see Samuel screaming at the top of his lungs, his servant, Tituba, shackled in handcuffswhile the sheriff marches her towards the jailhouse. The crowd around us grows by the second, and I rush forward to see what is the matter.
“Witch!” he bellows, pointing his finger at Tituba. “Vile creature of Satan! Be gone with thee! Waste not a second on this demon, Sheriff! ‘Tis to the Gallows for her!”
“Sam, Sam, Sam,” I say calmly, attempting to reign control over his anger.
