Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (7 page)

Finally, Becky answered the door. I could
tell that she had not been expecting company and was in the middle
of work. She was brushing flour off her apron as she pulled the
door wide open. The flour had gotten on her jet-black hair and it
dusted her long thick eyelashes as well. Becky used her forearm to
wipe the flour from her face as she turned her attention to the
threshold.

She had the same large auburn eyes as her
mother, and I watched as they landed on Isaac and went wide. Her
soft cocoa skin paled as she lifted her gaze to me. She was about
my age but her eyes seemed to show a woman who was far passed
girlhood. She was quite beautiful, she stood a little bit taller
than me, and was very thin. Even in her worn work clothing, mere
hand-me-downs from her slaveholder, she had a grace about her.

I handed Isaac over and tried to explain
what had happened, but as I spoke, I saw terror spreading across
her face. Her full lips quivered as she looked passed me, and I
watched as her arms tightened around her child’s body.

“Run Aislin,” she hurriedly muttered under
her breath.

Just as I was about to ask what was wrong
she slammed the door shut. I turned around with my back to the
door. I found myself facing a towering man, with broad shoulders,
ruddy cheeks that matched his carrot colored hair, and a scowling
expression. Mr. Marthaler’s green eyes looked down at me with
distain, and behind him stood his two sniveling son’s, Mathew and
Zachariah. I had no time to react. I was struck hard and fast in
the face, not once, but twice. I slumped to the ground and felt
blood trickling off my lips. The slaves who were in the yard,
looked on helplessly as the Marthalers’ stomped passed them. If
they ran to help me, they endangered themselves and their whole
families.

I struggled to get up and pushed anyone away
who came close. I did not want to cause any more pain than they
already had to face. I could walk. I was just in shock.

I headed back to find my mother and was only
feet away from the market house, when I noticed all the people
staring at me and shaking their heads. They were siding with the
Marthalers and I was thought to be the one who deserved the
beating. My eyes welled up with uncontrollable tears. People cursed
at me as I passed. I turned back away from them and I started
running… running away from the market, passed the town shops and
into the woods. I did not think or perhaps I no longer cared.

I came to an old weeping willow that stood
next to a flowing creek. I dropped down and wept bitterly. I wept
for all I had seen, all my mother had lived through and for the
fear of what Isaac’s family would now face because of me. I curled
my knees into my chest and buried my face from the world. I had
enough of it all.

Sneachta was with me and did her best to
comfort me, but to no avail. Then I heard something that made me
stop weeping and freeze in place. Someone was near me.

“There, there, my dear Aislin.”

It was my protector. I looked up slowly to
see that he was crouched down beside me. He gently reached out and
stroked my hair with his fingertips, as I blinked the tears from my
eyes. His presence seemed to soothe me instantly and I watched as
he walked over to the water’s edge where he dipped a cloth into the
flowing creek. I could not understand where he had come from.

Sneachta purred as she moved toward my feet
to let him sit closer to me. He returned and softly tilted my face
with his hand, looking at the areas where I had been struck. He
scowled at what he saw and I suddenly felt self-conscious.

“Your face is bruised,” he said softly as he
pressed the cold, wet cloth onto my face and held it there.

I was mesmerized by him; by the way I felt
when I heard his voice. I reached up and placed my hand over his.
When our eyes locked, I felt the strong sensation of bittersweet
rejoice, as one would feel if they had been reunited with a long
lost love—with someone they thought they would never see again. I
struggled to understand how I could have such strong feelings for
this man that I barely knew.

“I am sorry that I could not stop them from
hurting you,” he said with his soft rolling accent.

“You saw what happened?” I asked shyly.

“No, I was on the other side of town,” he
replied while he brushed my hair away from my face. “It was very
brave of you to protect the child,” he trailed off.

“Isaac is like family to me,” I replied.
“How did you know about Isaac if you were on the other side of
town?” I asked in confusion.

“I heard the locals talking about what
happened,” he said with a serious expression, “I never should have
been that far away from you.” He seemed to be scolding himself more
than talking to me.

“Do not blame yourself,” I said in earnest
as I reached for his hand, “It would not have mattered where you
were . . . I still would have protected Isaac.”

“But I should have been there to stop that
brute from hurting you,” he said through clinched teeth.

“I would not have wanted that,” my tone was
now serious. “Mr. Marthaler holds immense power in this town… he
would have had you killed for helping me. I would never want
someone to suffer on my behalf… especially not you.” Even as I
spoke the words I could imagine what horrible things the Marthalers
would have done to this man if that scenario had played out, and
the very thought of it terrified me.

“You haven’t changed,” he said under his
breath as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Greer,” he said, as he placed
the cloth near my hairline.

“Where are you from?”

He smiled a little, which made his features
accentuated. His eyes were sparkling and his olive skin flushed. “I
am from Scotland.”

“Is that where I was in the dream?” I asked
him intently.

“Aye.”

“How did you know to save me? Are you a… a
witch?” Speaking the word out in the open felt dangerous, even when
said in the most hushed whisper.

He did not answer but shook his head from
side to side, “I have my own magic though.”

I nodded in reply. I had seen his magic.

“Are you new to town?”

“Yes,” he smiled, “You saw when I
arrived.”

Sneachta placed her head on Greer’s leg and
started purring. He laughed at her and scratched her head.

“Are you here on business of some kind?” I
asked, hoping that he would not say he was here to meet a bride
that was arranged for him.

I saw the corner of his mouth slip into a
little smirk—as though he read my thoughts, ‘I am here on business,
but I am not married … nor am I here to meet a potential
bride.”

I felt my cheeks grow hot and knew I was
blushing profusely, “Oh,” I stammered, “I didn’t mean…”

His beautiful eyes searched my face and he
rested his hand on top of mine to silence me, “I did not come to
Burlington in search of a bride … but I never knew that we would
meet,” he whispered.

At his touch, my head began to spin. He held
my hand gently in his and his fingers began to intertwine with my
own. His touch was strangely familiar to me.

“How is it that we know each other? How is
it that I lo…” I stopped myself before the words could finish.

Greer brushed back a curly strand of dark
hair from his face. He stopped crouching and seated himself at my
side, “I think we must have always known each other. The moment I
saw you at the port … it was as though I was looking into my past.”
Sadness crept through his words.

I searched his eyes and saw no deception in
them. If anything in my life was real, it was that fact that I
knew
him. We had met before.

I understood what he said and I remembered
reading about this in the book.
Perhaps we were soul mates,
eternally bound to each other’s side
. As these thoughts passed
through my mind, I knew deep within my heart that they were
true.

Greer leaned in close to me and placed a
gentle kiss upon my forehead. His lips were soft, full, and cool on
my skin. He moved toward my lips but stopped, his eyes resting on
my bottom lip. His eyes widened and changed a bit… they looked
slightly darker and what looked like panic shown across his
face.

“You are bleeding, we must get you home.” He
wasted no time, bent over and picked me up as though I weighed
nothing more than a feather pillow.

“Can we stay a little longer?” I
pleaded.

He shook his head fervently, “No, you are
not safe here. We cannot afford to delay.”

I then remembered how my blood had drawn the
creature to me once before and I understood. I reached into my
pocket and pulled out the bell, holding it in my hand just
incase.

Greer carried me and we swiftly moved
through the woods, with Sneachta expertly leading the way. Within
only moments, we were at the threshold of my home. He placed me
down gently and knocked on the door. My mother swung it open and
rushed over to me, pulling me tightly into her arms.

“Thank God you are alright,” she said while
leading me into the house.

I struggled to free myself and introduce her
to Greer, but as I turned to where he had stood I only saw
emptiness, for he had gone.

If it had not been for Greer’s wet cloth
that I still held in my right hand, I would have thought our visit
was merely a hallucination or a dream. I hesitated in the doorway,
but my mother drew me into the house and locked the door behind
me.

“That horrible man,” she gasped when she saw
the red marks on my cheek and my bloody lip. She yanked the cloth
from my hand and brought it to the kitchen where she dipped it into
a basin of water and then placed it again on my face.

“Where did you get this kerchief?” she
asked, “I have not seen it before.” She looked frightened, her face
was taught and all her mannerisms restricted.

I hesitated before I answered. “My protector
found me in the woods. He used it to put cold water on my face.” I
was afraid of what her reaction might be.
Would she forbid my
meeting with him?

“He must be wealthy,” she said while
touching the lace that bordered the edges of the cloth, “Do you
think you may be in love with him Aislin?”

I was taken aback by her inquiry. It seemed
rather inappropriate for her to ask me such questions when I barely
knew Greer, but in truth, I already knew the answer, “I… yes, I
love him,” I replied quietly.

“Then it is a good thing that he is wealthy.
He will need to prove that he can provide for you in a way that
Zachariah cannot.”

“What?”
Surely, after today’s events, the
Marthalers were done with me?

My mother looked sad but there was anger in
her voice. “I do not blame you for what you did Aislin. Martha was
proud of you too. Unfortunately, it did not have a pleasing affect
on Zachariah or his father. You challenged their position of power
by what you did, and now they need to tame you in the same way they
would a wild horse. After they left you, they went straight away to
your father at his shop and they proposed that you should marry
Zachariah lest you become a social outcast. ‘
A girl who communes
with slaves and behaves in an undesirable fashion,
’ they called
you. They said that
‘you are a girl who brings shame to her
family’s household
’ and they greatly grieved your father. They
are meeting here tonight to discuss the arrangement of your
marriage to Zachariah.” I watched a single tear drift down her
cheek and landed on her bottom lip.

“Father will never allow this.” I could not
believe that the man who loved me so much and loved my mother with
great passion, would ever allow his daughter to marry into such a
despicable household.

“They terrified him. He believes that he is
saving your reputation by allowing this to be. Aislin, I have tried
to reason with your father but he will not listen.”

“But, I love someone else… I love Greer,” I
said while choking on my words.

“Then you must hope that he loves you too.
Otherwise, I see no way to free you from Zachariah.”

********************

I ran to my room and slammed the door behind
me. I did not want my mother to hear me cry. She was upset enough.
I fell onto my bed and buried my face into a pillow to dampen my
sobs, but the pressure caused great pain on my bruised face.

I was so angry at ever befriending Abigail,
and at ever being pleasant to her brother. I felt betrayed by my
father and I felt hatred towards Mr. Marthaler and hatred that Mrs.
Marthaler, the manipulative ruler of the household, was suddenly
powerless at preventing her son from pursuing me. Most of all, I
was angry with Greer. How dare he leave me now! How dare he slip
away like a coward instead of standing up and making his presence
known.

I was frustrated with all the emotions that
were swirling inside of me. While I could comprehend the notion of
‘soul mates’, I was still angry with myself for falling so
completely in love with someone I barely knew. I had seen handsome
men before, but this was no mere infatuation. This ran deeper.
Deeper than any feeling I had ever experienced before … and it
scared me. What I found to be even more terrifying was the thought
of never seeing him again.
What if when he escorted me
home this evening, he had decided to never come back?
That
thought was so agonizing that it nearly made my heart stop.

I wrapped myself into a little ball and
closed my eyes to clear my mind. As soon as I did so, I saw Greer’s
face in my mind’s eye. At the very thought of him I wept again.
This time harder and with such emotion that I could barely
breathe.

After some time I must have fallen asleep
and did not wake until I heard the bustle of people downstairs. I
knew the negotiations had begun. I was to be bartered for, just as
my mother had been. The only difference was that she ended up with
someone who loved her and I would not.