Free Susannah Morrow by Megan Chance Page A

from them.
    They were all leaning over the table, heads close, still laughing, and God help me, I wanted to be part of it. I had felt
     so alone in the four days since Mama died.
    “What is it?” I asked. “Why do you laugh so?”
    “Why, I don’t think we can tell you,” Mary Warren said—but without the meanness of the others. This Mary was more like me,
     more a mouse than a leader. She was shy and good-hearted for the most part, so I took her words to mean that she was afraid
     to tell me, not that she meant to torment me with secrets.
    “I won’t say a word,” I promised.
    Mercy shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
    Betty sighed. “It’s well known that you can’t keep a secret, and with—”
    “Wait,” Mary Walcott said. Betty stopped, frowning prettily at her, and Mary’s eyes went narrow and considering, as if she
     were thinking, but that was an act, I knew her well enough to know. Mary never said or did anything without first planning
     it well. She patted the bench beside her. “Charity’s been so good caring for her mama these last months, ’tis unworthy of
     us not to welcome her back into our circle when she most needs us.”
    I looked at her warily.
    She smiled at me. “Come, Charity. Sit with us.”
    “You aren’t going to tell her, are you, Mary?” Mercy whined.
    “Well…perhaps Charity could help us.”
    She knew how to draw me in. She knew I would not be able to walk away from a statement like that. I sat down beside her, and
     with that one motion, I was part of them again, so simple, just like that. I felt their camaraderie tightening in a web around
     me, holding me there. I was so weak, after all.
    How easily I fell.

Chapter 6

    “Y OU MUST PROMISE NOT TO SAY A WORD , C HARITY ,” B ETTY CAU -tioned.
    Mary Warren looked pale and uneasy. Her gaze darted through the room as if she feared someone would hear us and come running.
     “My master will beat me, should he find out.”
    “There are worse things than a beating,” Mary Walcott said disdainfully.
    Mercy nodded. “Aye. Hell would be worse.”
    “Hell?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”
    “’Tis not us who courted the Devil,” Betty said. “We’re not to blame.”
    “Quiet.” Mary’s whisper was so hard that the others stopped and stared at her. “Are you mad, Betty? Look around you.”
    Betty flushed and pushed nervously at a loose blond hair. “Mercy started it.”
    Mary didn’t yield. “The two of you will get us all a beating if you’re not careful.”
    I changed my mind. I wanted no part of this, whatever it was. All this talk of Hell and secrets…I had enough sins to answer
     for already. I could not afford to add another.
    I think Mary saw that on my face, because just then she smiled and leaned close, patting my hand reassuringly. “Never fear.
     Betty is not herself today. Dr. Griggs locked her in the cellar yesterday without dinner, and she has not quite recovered.”
    “’Twas an accident,” Betty murmured.
    “A few hours without food would do you good,” Mercy said meanly.
    I glanced toward the table where my family sat. My father had not noted my absence, nor I think had my aunt. But Jude was
     watching me with wide eyes and a little frown. I started to rise. “I should get back. My father will be missing me.”
    “He’s hardly noticed you’ve been gone,” Mercy said, glancing that way.
    “Still—”
    “Sit, Charity. We did not mean to scare you.”
    I sat again, knowing they would laugh at me if I walked away. “I’m not frightened.”
    “’Tis nothing to be afraid of. Only harmless sport.”
    They all laughed again, but there was a nervousness to it this time. I told myself there was safety in friends and plunged
     in. “What’s harmless sport?”
    They quieted. Mary wrapped her hand around a noggin of cider and pulled it close as if to drink, though she did not taste
     it. She grew very serious. “If we tell you, you must swear not to repeat a word to