The Caged Graves by Dianne K. Salerni

paid was killed at Gettysburg. But Michael’s substitute used his fee for college after the war, if you can believe it.”
    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. “What about Nathaniel?” 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 . . .
    â€œNathaniel was eager to go, but his mother made him promise to wait until he was sixteen, and by that time the war was over.” Aunt Clara eyed Verity sternly. “Life’s a battle—in peacetime and in wartime. People do whatever they have to. Best you learn that while you’re young.”
    It was a strange sentiment, and rather disturbing. Before Verity could wonder too much about it, her aunt smiled and said, “I’ll let your dress soak overnight. Send Beulah for it in the morning.”
    Verity didn’t want to ask any special favors of Beulah. “I can come back for it.”
    Aunt Clara smiled knowingly. “Send Beulah,” she repeated. “Don’t let that woman intimidate you. She’s had the run of your father’s house for too many years. I’m sure she hasn’t taken to the idea of a new mistress, but you need to put her in her place.”
    Verity retrieved her basket of ribbon and said her goodbyes. Liza followed Verity through the house and onto the front porch. “I know you’re not going to ask me to help with those wreaths,” Liza said, “but I wouldn’t have done it anyway.”
    â€œThen we are in agreement that you won’t be helping,” Verity responded with icy politeness.
    â€œIf you know what’s good for you, you won’t disturb that grave,” Liza went on.
    Verity narrowed her eyes. “Do you have something to say about my mother?”
    She was ready to pick a quarrel, but Liza just smiled nastily. “Not your mother—
her.
” The girl glanced back at the house, then leaned forward and whispered, “Asenath was a witch, you know.”
    â€œHow would you know?” Verity asked. “She was dead before you were born.”
    â€œHer family’s chock-full of witches. People say there’s a blood curse on the lot of them.”
    â€œPeople are ignorant,” Verity retorted, eyeing Liza up and down so the girl would know exactly which people she meant.
    Liza persisted. “Why do you think they put that cage on her grave?”
    Verity knew she ought not to respond, but she couldn’t help herself. “Why do
you
think?”
    â€œTo make sure she didn’t get out. In your mother’s case, it was only a precaution, but with Asenath . . . there was reason for concern.” Liza’s smile was sinister now. “In Catawissa sometimes the dead don’t stay where you put them.”
    Â 
    Verity went home heartsick.
    Her father clearly hadn’t told her the whole story. There was some stain on her mother’s 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 hadn’t 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 Liza—for all Verity cared, the girl could pine away from jealousy.

Seven
    DURING VERITY’S absence, calling cards had been left at the Boone house on behalf of Mrs. James Campbell, Mrs. Timothy Abbet, and Mrs. William McKelvy.
    Nate’s sisters.
    Verity bolted upstairs to rip off Liza’s horrible dress and put on one of her own. Mindful of