paid was killed at Gettysburg. But Michaelâs substitute used his fee for college after the war, if you can believe it.â
Verity glanced at her aunt with surprise. It sounded as if Aunt Clara would rather the paid substitute had done his duty and died, rather than have the audacity to survive and attend college. âWhat about Nathaniel?â She hoped her intended husband had not paid another man to fight in his place. Not that she would have wanted him injured or killed, but . . .
âNathaniel was eager to go, but his mother made him promise to wait until he was sixteen, and by that time the war was over.â Aunt Clara eyed Verity sternly. âLifeâs a battleâin peacetime and in wartime. People do whatever they have to. Best you learn that while youâre young.â
It was a strange sentiment, and rather disturbing. Before Verity could wonder too much about it, her aunt smiled and said, âIâll let your dress soak overnight. Send Beulah for it in the morning.â
Verity didnât want to ask any special favors of Beulah. âI can come back for it.â
Aunt Clara smiled knowingly. âSend Beulah,â she repeated. âDonât let that woman intimidate you. Sheâs had the run of your fatherâs house for too many years. Iâm sure she hasnât taken to the idea of a new mistress, but you need to put her in her place.â
Verity retrieved her basket of ribbon and said her goodbyes. Liza followed Verity through the house and onto the front porch. âI know youâre not going to ask me to help with those wreaths,â Liza said, âbut I wouldnât have done it anyway.â
âThen we are in agreement that you wonât be helping,â Verity responded with icy politeness.
âIf you know whatâs good for you, you wonât disturb that grave,â Liza went on.
Verity narrowed her eyes. âDo you have something to say about my mother?â
She was ready to pick a quarrel, but Liza just smiled nastily. âNot your motherâ
her.
â The girl glanced back at the house, then leaned forward and whispered, âAsenath was a witch, you know.â
âHow would you know?â Verity asked. âShe was dead before you were born.â
âHer familyâs chock-full of witches. People say thereâs a blood curse on the lot of them.â
âPeople are ignorant,â Verity retorted, eyeing Liza up and down so the girl would know exactly which people she meant.
Liza persisted. âWhy do you think they put that cage on her grave?â
Verity knew she ought not to respond, but she couldnât help herself. âWhy do
you
think?â
âTo make sure she didnât get out. In your motherâs case, it was only a precaution, but with Asenath . . . there was reason for concern.â Lizaâs smile was sinister now. âIn Catawissa sometimes the dead donât stay where you put them.â
Â
Verity went home heartsick.
Her father clearly hadnât told her the whole story. There was some stain on her motherâs reputation, something to do with the girl buried next to her. The two cages served as a reminder, making sure no one in town ever forgot.
If the two women had done nothing wrong, as her father claimed, why had he needed to bury them in such a fashion? Why hadnât her father and her uncle stood up for their wives?
If Verity was going to marry Nathaniel McClure and make a decent life for herself in this town, she was going to have to find out, and then find a remedy.
As for her cousin Lizaâfor all Verity cared, the girl could pine away from jealousy.
Seven
DURING VERITYâS absence, calling cards had been left at the Boone house on behalf of Mrs. James Campbell, Mrs. Timothy Abbet, and Mrs. William McKelvy.
Nateâs sisters.
Verity bolted upstairs to rip off Lizaâs horrible dress and put on one of her own. Mindful of
Zoe Sharp
Back in the Saddle (v5.0)
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