#Esther Barnes Proctor

[knittastically]

John and Esther Pt 24

I hope you enjoy reading about John and Esther. All comments are welcome and indeed encouraged and if you could reblog then that would be appreciated

John Proctor is ushered away from the cells. Constable Willard and Reverend Burrows walk close behind him and as the outer door slams shut he hears a rising, pitiful wail piercing the air. It is like a punch to his stomach and a chill runs through him as he turns back and cries out to her in an unsteady broken voice “Esther, Esther!” His face pale and his eyes dark with anguish as he tries to barge past the Constable and the Minister.

“No Master Proctor you may not go there.” Willard grabs at John’s bicep and holds him firm as they stand eyeball to eyeball, but he baulks at the fierce stare levelled at him and quickly uncurls his fingers releasing John from his grip.

“You are to see to it that Esther Putnam has the best food and everything she needs”, John slaps coins down on the Constable’s desk. “I will be here tomorrow to make sure of it” With that he strides from the courthouse his heart thudding in his chest and the sound of Esther’s cries still ringing in his ears. Mercy and the children are up on the waggon waiting patiently, it has started to rain now, that fine soaking mizzle that chills to the bone and the air is cold and raw. The children look miserable and Thomas is hungry, it is making him fractious and crabby and loud. John climbs up beside Samuel, “I’ll drive as fast as I dare Mercy, the Mistress will be concerned at our being late and you will be chilled to the bone and hungry, I can hear for certain that Thomas is. He smiles the saddest smile that Mercy has ever seen.

They make good speed home and John does not even take time to drive the waggon to the barn but slings the drive reins over the rail and sets Mercy and the children down outside the house “I’ll take Thomas up Mercy, you see to the fire and set the dinner out, but not for me though I’ll take mine later” The thought of eating makes him gag “As you will Master Proctor” and she ushers the children inside out of the cold.  With his long legs John easily takes the stairs two at a time, he knocks quietly at the chamber door and Rebecca opens it with barely a sound, even so Elizabeth wakes from her doze. 

“You are later than I’d hoped John, is something amiss?” His smile is brittle “Thomas is now a member of the community Elizabeth and a clamorous one at that.” Carefully he hands Thomas to her and she sets about arranging herself so that she can suckle the babe. “John, why so agitated what has come about?” “They have taken Esther, they have taken her to the town gaol she is to be tried on Tuesday.”

“Oh Lord, oh my good Lord” Rebecca slumps down heavily in her chair. With his eyes wide and pleading, John looks at Elizabeth, she shuts her own eyes tight against him and clenches her jaw. A part of her is not sorry that Esther is in gaol but for all that, she does not want John hurt and as he sits on the edge of their marriage bed he covers his face with his hands and openly weeps, shoulder heaving, huge, wracking sobs. Elizabeth heaves herself upright and shuffles herself nearer to John. He feels the cool touch of her fingers as she lays her free hand gently against the back of his neck and strokes her thumb over his skin. John is staggered at her show of affection and turning his head towards her speaks with a low broken voice.

“Dear God Elizabeth, you do not deserve this, not this”

“What we deserve and what we think we deserve are often a country mile apart John. I have not deserved you but you have always been a good husband and if you have not loved me; which I know you have not, then you have always cared for me and shown me some affection.” She offers him a small, weak smile “You have saved me from the torment that Esther is enduring now, the girl is suffering and I do not wish that on her. I am truly sorry now for having put her out of the house” Elizabeth lays her hand against his cheek now “I have resigned myself to the way things are and truly it should not be anyone’s business but our own”, “Though the world in general”, She huffed a little laugh “and the Church in particular do see it differently”

John Proctor cannot help but smile softly at his wife and at this moment, even as she lays there tired and pale she shows such resolve, such strength of spirit he both admires and respects her. 

“You must help her all you can John and bring her back here safe” He blows his breath out in a soft hiss and rubs his hands up and down over his face. “She will be in court on Tuesday, and it is a certainty how that will turn out.” “But I will be there Elizabeth and even though I condemn myself, I will speak up for her.” “Knowing you to be the man you are, I would expect no less of you John Proctor but I beg you have a care.”

John rises from his perch on the edge of the bed, paces the room and then stops as Rebecca Nurse comes to stand beside him. As she lays her gnarled, arthritic hand on his arm she speaks quietly to him.

“You must do what needs be done John, they will whip her through the town if they find her guilty, and if they “Lay On” hard they could rip her flesh open to the bone. So if you can prevail on the court to lessen the sentence then go to it, else I would fear for both her and the child” John lays his large hand over Rebecca’ and she feels his fingers tremble against her own. “I will do my best, though I doubt anyone there would see fit to listen to me, Burrows well knows by now that I’m the father of Esther’s child and so I walk as dangerous a path as she does.” His shoulders droop and he sighs like a man already defeated as he looks to his wife suckling Thomas then he sweeps his gaze around the familiar chamber, a room which he knows he will never occupy again. “You would not know that Susannah Parris has found employment within the Reverend’s household, and by the looks of it as no mere housemaid, her finery screams Ladies Maid.” John follows his words with a hollow laugh.

Rebecca snorts “That vindictive baggage, good Lord what are they thinking?” But she knew for certain that at Reverend Burrows prompting, Susannah would waste no time in poking at the hornets’ nest that was John Proctor and Esther Putnam and stirring up as much trouble as she could for both.

Rebecca Nurse moves away from John as she hears a knocking at the door and opens it to Mercy who is carrying a large wooden tray set with food for Rebecca and Elizabeth. “Master Proctor the children have been fed” She smiles down at Samuel and Abigail standing either side of her “I have laid dinner for you, should you wish to eat now.” Rebecca holds the door wide as Mercy steps in. “The children asked if they could see Mistress Proctor for a little while” Elizabeth smiles and glances over to Rebecca who nods at her. “Aye let them come in to see their mother” John steps over to the bed and with the lightest touch gently strokes the head of his new son, drops the softest, swiftest kiss to Elizabeth’s brow and leaves without another word to head back down to the parlour.

Sunday is never-ending, time creeps and crawls and once John has returned the waggon to the barn, groomed the horses and checked over the harness, there’s little to do. He cannot even loose himself in hard, physical labour on the farm, something which might have gone some way to numbing the pain he feels. So he looks over the farm accounts, but his mind runs this way and that, and the figures run into each other. Spying the Bible box he glowers across at it, oh yes Sunday should be spent in contemplation of God’s word, but he shudders as he resolves that he will never read that damned book again. 

There is one thing he will do, he does not count it as work and does not care if anyone else does. Shrugging on his coat against the rain and snagging up a lantern John heads over to the tool store. He chooses carefully from the chisels and gouges set on the rack then moves to the far end of the bench. Laid out neatly under their burlap cover are side and end boards, rails, rockers, a plain bottom board, four turned finials and any number of dowels. John strokes his fingers over the carvings a wistful smile on his lips, he is more than satisfied with his work it may be the finest thing he has ever made, this cradle for his and Esther’s child. 

It is almost done, he has carved the side panels and the foot panel with an intricate design of small birds and summer flowers, his smile broadens for dotted here and there amongst them are tiny carved bees. All that remains now is to work the inside of the head panel and for that he has planned a dove in flight with a space below for the date of birth and the child’s initials. He wraps it carefully in another piece of cloth and strides back to the farm.

John works carefully at the fine intricate details of the carving, the tools he is using seem too small against his large hands and long fingers but his touch is light, delicate and sure. Elizabeth often said that had he not been a farmer then John would surely have made his way as a master carpenter. Tomorrow he will begin to wax the wood and then finally dowel the pieces together. Suddenly he feels his heart clench in his chest as he remembers that tomorrow, before he puts his hand to anything much he will ride into Salem to see Esther. But for the next few hours he will lose himself in his work.

Mercy breaks the silence as she clatters into the room. “At the Mistresses request I have put Samuel and Abigail to bed, she glances at the table “You have not eaten Master Proctor” she gestures towards the place she has set for him. “ Will you take something now, it is not too far from supper and you must be hungry?

The thought of eating makes his stomach churn. “No, no thank you Mercy I don’t care for any, in fact you may clear it away girl, I will go to my bed soon, for I have a long day tomorrow and as soon as you are done, then you may go up to the Mistress”. John wraps the head board in the burlap and sets both it and his sharp tools high up on the top of the cupboard well away from inquisitive children, with searching fingers. When he enters Esther’s room, their room now, the emptiness presses in on him almost knocking the breath from his lungs, he feels so lost and loneliness wraps him in it’s cold embrace.

Then he smiles a little as he remembers Esther wriggling and jostling against him for space in the bed that even without her is still too small for his frame.  But the covers and pillows smell of her, with deep shuddering breaths he takes in her scent and instead of laying the pillow beneath his head, he crushes it to his chest and burrows his face into it.

But sleep will not come for John and the cold air caresses his naked body as he paces up and down the room, stopping every now and again to peer from out from the window at the moonlit fields. Suddenly he steps back in surprise as the silence is shattered by the screech of an owl if he were a superstitious man he might think that to be an ill omen.

Once again John settles himself back in bed clutching at the pillow. He twists and turns and thumps at the mattress, but still sleep does not come and so he spends a lonely night thinking only of Esther as he waits for the dawn to rescue him from his pain.

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[knittastically]

John and Esther Pt 25

Thank you for reading this I hope you enjoy it. As always any comments are greatly appreciated and if you could reblog then that would be the icing on the cake

Sleep evades John for most of the night. The little that claims him fogs his brain, filling it with fractured dreams of Esther, cold and alone in her cell as she huddles weeping and shivering on the filthy, stinking floor. But that is not the worst of it. There in front of his eyes he sees her half naked body, her dress rent from neck to waist as she is tied to the cart’s tail. A well-muscled arm is raised high, thick fingers clutch the “cat” and as it bears down he wakes shouting, his body drenched in a cold sweat, his head and heart pounding.

John sits up in the bed, leans forward and bows his head as he rests his forearms on his hitched up knees trying to calm his ragged breath. He knows no more sleep will come, the only thing is to rise, dress and start his day. It is long before dawn but he needs to be up and out, there are kine to be milked, stock to be checked and all before he can eat and then make his way to Salem to see Esther. Hurriedly he pulls on his clothes and shivers at the feel of the cold air and cool cloth against his skin. 

He is surprised to find that when he enters the parlour Mercy is already there he shoots her a quizzical look. “Master Proctor, good morning to you, I had not thought to see you quite so early, the Mistress is wanting something hot to drink, Goody Nurse is still asleep so I said I’d fetch it for her” John manages a tight lipped smile as Mercy rakes at the fire and lays more logs amongst the flames. “Are you all right Master Proctor?” There’s a look of concern on her young face and her eyes narrow “I hope you’ll forgive me for saying but you don’t look so good.” He rakes his hands through his hair and smiles weakly back at her. She notices his eyes are dull, tired. “I thank you Mercy but I’m fine, I shall head to the barn soon and eat when I come back.”

He shrugs on his coat and heads out. The air is soft but cool against his face. Here and there are patches of frost on the ground and the puddles are covered in a thin skin of ice.  Although the sky is brightening it’ll be another couple of hours before it is truly light and he hopes by then to be getting ready to go to Salem. In spite of this he takes his time to walk to the barn and stands for a moment leaning against the fence, wishing Esther was standing there with him. But he will see her today and he will stay with her as long as he can so the sooner he makes a move the sooner he can be on his way. 

He has always loved the warm sweet scent of the cattle and the fodder and as he walks into the barn he breathes in the smell that reminds him of his childhood. He smiles at the thought of being able to teach both new children about this farm which will be their home, his love of the land, the pure joy of the changing seasons. John is a father who loves his children, all of them. He loves them from the day they are born and has never withheld his affection from them, though he may seem stern it does not deter Abigail from climbing onto him only to fall asleep on his lap curled up against his chest. Even Samuel, who at seven considers himself grown up is not above doing the same. John sets about his work, he has no one to help with the milking now but he can bear that, for Susannah is gone thank God and that lifts a weight from his heart.

I wake up, or rather I open my eyes sleep has been sorely lacking. The cell is cold and dank and dampness slicks he walls. I am also now well acquainted with the four legged occupants of the cell, I have never seen rats so big and evil looking. There’s no bed to lie on so I have spent the night huddled in the corner with my knees drawn up as tight as I can and my cloak and shawl wrapped around me so as to try and keep warm. It stinks in here, there’s one rickety stool and a piss pot that needs emptying though I doubt that will happen. I’m stiff, my knees and hips ache, I struggle to my feet to get up and stretch.

I know John will come and see me, he swore it and he is a man of his word. I squeeze my eyes tight trying to bring his strong, handsome face into view. The constable’s men are yelling into each cell and as they walk past each one they rattle on the bars with a stick. Then comes breakfast, the gaoler slides a platter of food into the cell. It looks foul and it tastes worse, one bite and I spit it back onto the platter, Lord knows what it is but I doubt that even the rats would touch it. I know John left money so as I would have something better to eat, but that must have gone straight to the Constable’s pocket. I don’t know when John will be able to come to see me, so all I can do is sit and wait in this awful place.

John enters the parlour, Mercy has already set Samuel on his way to school and she sits at the table alongside Abigail as the child finishes her breakfast. “Will you eat now Master Procter?” “Aye, just let me go and wash and change my clothes, I’ll not go Salem stinking of cattle and looking like a farmhand” Jug of water in hand he lopes up the stairs, washes quickly and pulls on his best clothes. Day by day piece by piece his belongings have been shifted into this room, but without Esther it’s a bare and lonely place.

As he passes the door to Elizabeth’s room, for it is hers and hers alone now, Rebecca steps out quietly and whispers. “You are set on going to Salem John?” “I am” His voice is firm, determined. “Would you care for my company, Esther might like to see another woman’s face?” “It is in my mind to ride in rather than drive Rebecca” Rebecca smiles at him and pats his arm. “I understand.” 

Mercy has laid out his food in the parlour but still he cannot bring himself to eat. “Wrap me something in a cloth Mercy I’ll take it with me” “Do the same for me child” Rebecca appears, clad in her thick cloak and heavy boots. “For I too  have a mind to go into Salem, besides there are some items which Elizabeth needs and the walk will do me good. John shakes his head and smiles at Goody Nurse she is a Woman who will usually get her own way and he is glad for he may be the one to need company once he has seen Esther. “Though I would consider it a kindness John, if you could see your way to letting me sit up behind when we return.” She notes the look on his face and scowls at him. “So you think I am too old to hitch up behind you John Proctor?”, She pokes at him with a boney finger, he say’s nothing though he manages a wry smile, for she’s seventy if she’s a day. “Well let me tell you, I can hold fast and you may push your horse as hard as you dare without a worry.”

“Mercy, I will leave Elizabeth, Thomas and Abigail in your charge if you think you could manage that” “I can manage,” Mercy smiles a broad smile, pleased to be so trusted.

John stuffs the food into his coat pockets, takes his leave of Mercy and Rebecca then strides over to the stable. He chooses the stallion, saddles him up checks and rechecks the girth and leads him out. Ebony is a fine looking beast and much the faster and stronger of his horses, John Proctor aims to make an impression when he rides into Salem this morning and so he does. Straight backed, head high the stallion skittering and prancing, but John has the measure of him. He reins up outside the Courthouse and leaves the horse with a loud warning to anyone around that they should not come near for fear of injury. He makes his way through the courthouse and down to the cells. The Constable and his men are already there.

“Ahh Master Proctor” Constable Willard his voice unctuous and his expression smug, bars John’s way to the cells. “Let me by Willard” Johns voice is a growl, “I have business with a member of my household” “Aye, and the whole of Salem knows what that business is Proctor but you cannot go down it is too early” Willard’s posturing is a sham and John steps closer, a calm but woolfish expression on his face, the Constable feels his own resolve melting away. It crumbles a little more as John twists both hands into the collar of Willard’s Coat. “I think I can  go down, I may have a temper Willard, though no one who truly knows me would say I am a violent man”, John lowers his voice yet more and sets his face only a few inches away from the Constable’s “But this may well be the day I give the lie to that, if you do not let me by”

“You would not dare John Proctor” Willard squeaks out. John tightens his grip, “Do not place a wager on that Willard” and he is so close now that he towers over the Constable, glaring down at him with eyes like chips of blue ice. “The prisoners are just taking their breakfast” “Then perhaps I should make sure the coin I gave you has been well spent” Constable Willard’s blenches and John knows straightway the deceit of the man. “Ahh, so the money ended in your pocked did it?” and he is glad he thought to bring some food, better that Esther should have it and he still has no appetite. “You still cannot got down there Master Proctor” “Indeed? Well you and I differ on that Willard” John releases him from an iron grip and pushes him aside non to gently, the Constable smooths his collar down as John steps past him and goes down to the cells.

“Open up Esther Putnam’s cell” He yells at the turnkey “Sir I cannot, no one but the constable or another officer is allowed to enter.” But John is such an imposing figure that the young man succumbs and is about to open the cell when the Constable rushes down the steps.

“Don’t you open that door” he commands John does no more than snatch the key out of the young man’s hand and opens it himself.

I hear John’s voice even before he comes down the steps and I am up on my feet, gripping at the cell bars. My heart hammers in my chest, my breath is ragged, and I step back in shock as the door is flung wide and John enters. “Oh God John I cannot believe that you are her so soon” I stand still, not quite knowing what to do, not wanting to rush into his arms and make things worse for him than they are. But John solves the problem for me and he steps forward, his arms wide he gathers me to him and holds me fast against this chest. I want to cry but I will not let him see me break so easily, so I laugh nervously.

“I must stink something awful John, and I think the vermin may have already made their home on me. I feel the rumble of a slight laugh in his chest. “My sweet girl I wish I could get you out of here, but I will not give you hope of that.” “You cannot do anything about this John.” I try to turn his thoughts by asking questions about the household.   “How is Mercy settling?”

“You were right to think of her Esther, she is a Godsend and has found her place so well it seems like she has always been there. Thomas thrives and he has such a pair of lungs on him that he can rattle the beams when he bawls.”

The gentle smile on his lips reaches his eyes as he speaks of his new son. My breathing steadies, my heart beats to a calmer rhythm and I slide my arms around him now. He is no longer cautious, no longer restrained, and he drops his mouth to meet mine, his kiss is sweet and soft but only for a moment. I give as I take, I am willing him to kiss me harder and John is a man to oblige. Now his mouth on mine is hot, open and hungry, his tongue twines against mine, fierce and hard in my mouth.

We kiss and kiss and it’s as if we shall never stop. The growls rumbling from his chest are the bass notes to the descant of my moans and mewls, he pushes the cloth from my head, so that he can more easily thread his hands in my hair pulling my head back so that he can kiss my neck. The Constable bangs his stick  hard down one the floor”  It startles me and I try to pull away from John but he holds me fast.

“John Proctor you must leave, do you not realise man that you condemn yourself by your actions?” Before John can answer, a messenger sails down the steps and hands a note to Constable Willard. As Willard reads, it a look of malice settles on his face and he delivers a smile of pure evil. “You must leave now Master Proctor, I have to tell you that all prisoners will be heard in court today”

“Tomorrow surely?” John turns towards him,  brow furrowed, eyes dark and I see the colour drain a little from his face as he laces his trembling fingers through mine.

“No Master Proctor, for the Magistrate is called away to Boston tomorrow on urgent business, he will sit in court today and any sentences and punishment will be delivered before he leaves” “Oh God no” My voices croaks out the words, I know that within hours I am likely to feel the whip on my back. The last thing I see, before the world goes black and slides away, is the fearful look in Johns blue eyes.

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[knittastically]

John and Esther Pt 11 NSFW

Master John Proctor has set a fire raging in me that cannot easily be doused, for every secret look, stolen kiss or soft touch fans it again to a fierce heat.  I have lain with John but once more since that night if lain you could call it. There was no soft mattress, no warm coverlet, no feather pillows, but I remember the smell and soft lowing of the cattle, the scent of hay the heat and sweat of John’s body. The weather had worsened, all the stock, save for the pigs, had been brought inside. They needed to be fed, watered and mucked out each day, the cows were still to be milked, though they had almost dried off. It seemed at first that Susannah’s health had improved enough for her to take up her chores again, but after 3 days it was clear she was still too weak, so with a quiet resignation Mistress Elizabeth allowed me work with John until Saturday. As I buttoned up my coat I glanced across at Susannah. Oh how she hated the thought that I would be with him and she flashed me an evil glare, then slowly drew her finger across her throat as a warning to me. I shivered and ran from the house.

I entered the barn and stood quietly by as John forked out the hay. He had shed his coat and as he worked I watched the movement of his muscles beneath his shirt. As soon as he saw me he flung the pitchfork aside and was across to me, snatching my head cloth away, loosening my hair about my shoulders so that he could rake his fingers through it. He snaked his arms around my waist and lifted me up off my feet into a soft kiss as I wound my arms around his neck. “There is work to be done John Proctor” I laughed at him “Aye there is” He kissed me again. “But only with you Esther my sweet girl, only with you” He laughed back at me and the sound of it was balm to my heart. John Proctor the stolid, dour farmer showed me a side to him that I doubted many others even Elizabeth had ever seen.

Wriggling down his body to set my feet to the floor was a movement which I think pleased him greatly, for I heard him moan softly then he kissed me again with such wild joy it made me dizzy. I gave him back the same just as fierce and hot. Laughing again he drew back from me for a moment and then searched my face before setting his hands to the buttons of my short coat. He had me rid of it in no time. All the while he kissed me with clipping urgent kisses, raking his teeth over my bottom lip, taking my gasping breath into his own mouth as he teased, tugged, stroked and twisted my nipples through the fabric of my dress sending waves of heat through me. “Esther?”  His voice rumbled low and thick with longing. I swallowed hard, feeling my stomach churn with nerves then cradling his head between my hands drew his face down towards mine, set my mouth against his ear and quickly before my courage and boldness deserted me I whispered, “Fuck me John” then nipped his ear hard. He hissed in his breath and as I stared straight up at him his eyes popped wide and dark with surprise then pinned me with a fierce, scorching look but his mouth curved into a smile all the same.

“Where is my sweet Esther?” He whispered “For if this is she, then what has come about to turn her from shy girl to shameless doxy? I coiled my arms around his neck and spoke softly “Esther is here and she loves a man by the name of John Proctor, she has loved him since she first laid eyes on him, but since he bedded she burns for him” John’s mouth was hard on mine almost before I had stopped speaking, his kisses were deep and powerful, tongues snaking around each other, lips raked between teeth. I could feel the wetness between my thighs “I need you John please, I need you now” I whined against his lips “You are a wanton, Esther Putnam, a wanton” he laughed softly.  Then his head snapped back and he growled my name as I slid my hands down between us, stroking and teasing his cock as it strained against the cloth of his britches. I reached for his belt buckle, my fingers shaking as I loosened it enough to ease his britches down some and free him. 

John spun me round to face the gable end, grasping my hands he flattened them hard against the rough  wood before he raised my skirts then groaned as he stroked his fingers lightly over the swell of my arse. With his left arm wrapped tightly around my hips to steady me he nudged my legs wider apart with his own. I felt the tip of his cock tease against my opening once, twice. “Do you want me Esther?” “Yes John now” “Louder my sweet love” “Now John, Now” I yelled at him Straightway he thrust into me deep and hard but I was so wet for him there was no pain. John held himself still inside me letting me feel him and stretch to him before sliding away then plunging into me again and again each time catching that sweet spot inside me. I mewled as he slid his right hand between my legs parting my folds and tugging, pinching and stroking at my nub, he teased and teased working to send waves of heat and pleasure through me. “Together Esther, together” he growled as he thrust harder, faster his hips snapping against me, his fingers working on me until my legs began to shake. I clenched around him and could feel my knees begin to buckle, John held me tighter and as I came hard my head jerked back and I could not help but scream out his name. He matched his pleasure to mine and with a final thrust and a great roar he spent himself in me pulsing fierce and hot. 

We could not move our limbs, our bodies were heavy, our breathing fast and shallow but as I felt my hands sliding down the wall John slid gently from me and raised me up settling my back against his chest and we grew calmer steadier. “My God Esther, I can’t look at you but that I want you” His voice was raw, breaking. “You must know John that we cannot be alone every day, who knows how long it may be before we can be together again.” I turn to face him, there are tears forming and he stops my mouth with a gentle kiss. Then I smile and remind of what he said not so long ago about walls and tavern whores. He looks a little shamefaced, but I press my fingers to my lips then press them against his. “It was my wish John do not chide yourself.” Then for as long as we dare we simply stand in the circle of each other’s arms.

We are 3 weeks into December now and he babe in Elizabeth’s belly has long since quickened though it passed with little remark. I watched as John dropped a single gentle kiss onto her brow. He is content and happy that the child is well and growing and that Elizabeth is healthy, I know he will love his child, but he has no love left for his wife. It is true that they still share a chamber, Elizabeth knows she needs a husband to provide for the family and I think she fears that if she should denounce John, he would reveal her own deceit. Though I am certain he would not and I am just as sure that he has not laid a finger on her since he bedded me. I have seen the truckle bed in their room and there is more linen to wash now. Elizabeth seeks to have my days mapped out minute by minute, and Susannah has set herself as guardian of my nights, pressed between the two I have shared little time alone with John. 

There is a change in me, my courses have never been regular but even so, too long a time has passed since my last and for some days I have felt unwell. Although we seldom speak, Susannah watches me closely and I know she has heard me of a morning as I retch into the piss pot. Though she says nothing, her look sets fear into my heart. It is bitter cold outside and the snows have come hard, the sky is leaden and full of more. With a yoke holding two large pails of slops balanced across my shoulders, I tread carefully from the back of the house over to the pigs, the ground is *slape* beneath my feet and I have no wish to fall on my arse in the snow. John waits near the pens and at the sound of my footsteps he looks towards me with a warm, wide smile as he stands in the whirling snow. It then settles on his dark hair, his beard and his blue coat that he’s buttoned high against the chill wind. 

Carefully he lifts the yoke from my shoulders and lowers the pails to the ground. We are out of sight here and as I set my hand against his cold cheek, he turns his mouth to it and plants a soft warm kiss and a gentle nip to the flesh below my thumb. Stretching up on my toes, I slide one hand to the back of John’s neck to twist my fingers into his scarf and with my other I clutch the front of his coat. Without thought, he drops his lips gently to mine and sighs my own name into my mouth.  We stand locked together as he cradles my head against his chest. “I must not linger John, the Mistress keeps tight check on my time out of her sight” dropping a kiss to my head he holds me even tighter, warming me and shielding me against the snow.

“Oh God I need you Esther” with a voice that is low and breaking his words come out in a rush “I can hardly bear this. I cut him short and steel myself before my courage leaves me but even so my voice falters “John I have something I must tell you, please listen, please do not be angry with me” “Then tell me Esther” John presses his lips to my brow “I can never be angry with my sweet girl” The words I had practiced to myself catch in my throat and I croak them out in a rush, stumbling over them. He brushes his lips against mine to stop my rambling and kisses me so tenderly. “Esther, slowly, slowly be calm, tell me again” Looking up into those blue eyes I knew he had understood me the first time, but he wanted to hear again “John, I think I am carrying your child but my courses are never regular, I might be mistaken, it might be something else” We stand in the whirling snow and he holds me to him, resting his cheek against my head. When I look up at him his eyes are bright, glittering and there is the widest smile on his face. “Esther my love, how could you think I would be angry with you, do you think I would deny you, abandon you?” John puts his hands to my waist and when I slide my arms around his neck he lifts me off my feet whirling me round. There are tears and laughter from us both. 

Just as quickly he turns grim and serious. “Be wary of Susannah, her mind is not sound and I know she bears you ill will” “I’ll be careful John, but I know she has set herself at you” “Aye she does work I do not ask of her, leaves me silly tokens and gifts, tries to have me kiss her, and she is a sly scheming bitch”   “What words would worthy folks use for me John, Whore, slut, trull and all the rest?” I end my question with a shaky laugh “There is no humour in it Esther, you are none of those to me and never think it of yourself” Even through the layers of my clothes his grip on my shoulders is painful, I wince and take a sharp breath. It is enough and he wraps his arms around me again burying his face into my neck his beard soft against my skin. “I beg you be wary, for once she knows you carry my child she will take against you even more, I will do whatever I can to shield you from her and from everyone else but promise me take to care Esther, promise me” I settle my hands against his cheeks and gently stroke my fingers through beard, his eyelids flutter and he answers with a soft purr. I have no time to answer him and we spring apart as we hear Susannah calling.

“Master Proctor, Master Proctor” she comes trotting around the gable end of the barn. “Master Proctor, John,” He frowns and narrows his eyes at her familiarity. “I followed your steps thinking you would be here, the milking is all done with and I’ve scoured the pails for you” Stepping between us quick and sly she grinds her boot heel hard onto my foot, though when I wince and yelp she straight way begs my pardon with false concern and a simpering smile on her lips. Gone is the ratty unkempt hair, it is clean and sleek now beneath her head square. Her hands and nails are kept tidy and neat and she takes more pride in herself than she ever did when I first arrived. But still she is unsettled and disturbed, still she paces the floor at night, muttering and mumbling, and tells me John is sending words straight to her head. Yesterday she pointed to a jumble of pebbles and twigs by the corner of the house, “See how he leaves signs for me Esther, signs telling me where we can be alone, he hates you he tells me so.”  How can I reason with her against this, I have tried but with a great boldness she is setting herself at John and her temper can be unleashed in a flash. *slape* Slippery

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[knittastically]

John and Esther Pt 16

Not finished yet! But thank you to Everyone who is reading and liking my First ever attempt at  writing FanFic. I know that the Crucible/John Proctor may not be every one’s cup of tea but thank you for sticking with it.  I always love to read your comments and if you could REBLOG then that would be much appreciated.  Whatever and wherever you are celebrating at this time of year I wish you a happy, healthy, peaceful time.

Throughout the night unease has been gnawing at away at me and I have barely slept for thinking on what has happened between John and me, so I rise early and dress quickly against the cold. The Mistress had left me an old dress of her own, it is a good enough fit, though I will need help to lace it and the lacing will not be tight as my breasts are large so for now I will pull on my short coat to hide the gap. To my surprise I see a pale shaft of light escaping from under the partly closed parlour door, my head is pounding I feel sick and shaky and I am surprised to see the Mistress already seated at table as I enter the room.

Elizabeth Proctor does no more than glance at me, then returns to her writing as I stand waiting to be given my list of daily chores. There is no doubt in my mind that with Susannah laid up and the Mistress only a month short of her time, spare moments will be few and far between. I think on what I have done and the shame of it makes the heat rise in my cheeks, my workdays will be long and hard and the cause of that can only be laid at my own door. Worse, John had not denied he had bedded Susannah and the thought that he might have done such a thing makes me want to drop to my knees and cry. I am no longer angry but I am afraid, though I hold onto the thought that he came to fetch me back to the farm.

“Esther” Mistress Elizabeth’s voice is cold and harsh as she looks up at me now with her pale face and large eyes. “Until Susannah is well you will be doing the work of two and it would serve you well to pray for her to mend quickly girl, else you may have the work of three.” She is looking straight at me and her gaze is unwavering, Mistress Proctor is a proud woman but I can see the pain in her eyes. There she sits, her belly swollen with a child near due, here I stand, resting a hand over my own belly that is filling with the same man’s child. I have the grace to look away and cast my gaze downwards. As a good Christian wife, Mistress Proctor submits to her husbands will, though she does not have to like it. She can be a formidable woman and has a core of iron, there will be no quarter for me.

“Abigail and Samuel are fit to be out of bed but I will keep Samuel home until Monday, you will dress them and feed them then their clothes and bedlinen are to be washed, as is the linen from your own bed, from Susannah’s and from my own chamber.” We are almost to Spring, almost to the New Year I want all clean before my child arrives. Elizabeth glares at me daring me to mention my own child, I do not but nor do I look away from her and I raise my chin a little in a small act of defiance. It may serve Mistress Elizabeth Proctor well to remember that the babes will be blood kin and no matter what she may think of me, my child is the issue of John Proctor and will have some standing in this house. 

“Master Proctor will help you move the bed back to Samuel’s room and to move Susannah’s bed frame to her new place. I am resolved that for the wellbeing of the household, the two of you will no longer share a space. After that you will scour the floors and scrub the walls of the children’s rooms.” “As you wish Mistress Proctor” I keep my voice calm and low.

John no longer lays with his wife so there will be linen from 6 beds, the extra linen from the children’s’ sick beds and anything else she may decide on. My heart sinks, this is to be a Great Wash, a Buck Wash. It will be hot, heavy work pouring the boiling water over the ash covered bucking cloth until the large tub beneath is full and the linens can be left to steep overnight. That is only the beginning, for tomorrow I will need to draw off the water, re heat it and pour it through the cloth time and again until the linens are clean Though she watches me closely I keep my face set and look right into her eyes. I will give nothing away and she will not wear me down for I will not allow it, she is the first to look away. Elizabeth moves in her chair, shifts her weight and rubs at the small of her back then against each task written in her book she scratches a black check mark. 

“Each night after supper you will sew, there are smallclothes to be finished for the children and the Masters work shirts to be repaired. I will purchase more cloth when I go into Salem on Saturday” I start to speak, then hesitate. “Do you have anything you wish to say Girl?” “If you please Mistress Proctor, I should like to accompany you to Salem” Elizabeth struggles to her feet gives a tight little laugh and challenges me “Whatever would you need from Salem?” “And it please you Mistress” I place both hands on my belly and my voice strengthens as my confidence grows “ There are some small items I should like to buy, threads, lawn, a piece of fine weave linen. I have some coin put aside”

“Indeed and what of the coin I gave you, when I cast you out do you still have it?” “Aye Mistress it is here” I tap at the place where my pocket sits beneath my dress “Then return it Girl you have no need of it now” I feel my eyes pop wide open surprised at her pettiness and I answer her back unable to keep the sharpness from my voice. “You gave it me as severance Mistress Proctor and therefore it is mine to keep” I am determined she will not best me. Elizabeth walks slowly around the table and stands in front of me eyes hard and glittering, I keep my own eyes fixed on hers. “You dare dispute this with me Esther Putnam, you have no entitlement now you are returned to this house through no wish of mine.” She holds out her hand and waits, but I do not reach for the coins “Now Esther, if you please” she snaps at me. Still I will not return the money, Suddenly I feel a sting against my cheek and my head jerks back as Elizabeth lashes out and almost screams at me. “Now I said, else I will name you thief as well as whore”

“Wife, leave it be” We spin round at the sound of John’s booming voice, neither of us heard him come in from the back of the house. “It can do no harm to let Esther keep the coins and let her go to Salem.” Elizabeth nods her head once in agreement although her anger is ill disguised. So he has heard all and though I am still wary and worried I could throw my arms about him and kiss him for his kindness. But he looks at me with cold eyes and his lips are pressed in a thin smile. 

“Sit” he points to the bench behind me and I drop onto it. “Esther your behaviour was unjust and cannot go unpunished, I told you there would be a price to pay for your vicious treatment of Susannah.” The air seems to chill around me and I stare up at him, my eyes narrowed, my chin lifted high in defiance as I wait for his judgement. “You will nurse Susannah” 

I scowl and gasp at him. “No Master Proctor I cannot, I will not do it” my words come out snappish and crabbed as I spring to my feet and stand so close to him that I need to bend my neck to see his face. I wish I had not, the anger flashing across his face would be enough to cow the devil himself.

“ESTHER SIT DOWN, NOW” He roars, my stomach knots and I fight the panic rising in me.           “You will take up her meals, clean her wounds, change her dressings, smooth salve on her weals.  Brush her hair, clean her linens. If she should need assistance in the night then you will go to her and will even help her sit on the pisspot if need be.” I start to speak. Master Proctor shakes his head “No Esther I do not want to hear you” keeping his voice low and calm, arms crossed across his chest he continues. “I warned you that I would exact some justice and you know me to be a man of my word.”“When you are ready fetch me and I will help you move the beds and set up the bucking tub” he strides past me and heads out through the front door to make his way to the barn.

I see a faint look of satisfaction in the small smile on Elizabeth’s lips. “I will fetch the children for their breakfast Mistress Proctor then I will tend to Susannah” I halt next to her as I make for the stairs. My voice is hushed “Mistress Proctor, there are two babes coming to this house and I know you understand me when I say I will not allow my child to be treated any less than yours. John Proctor is father to both and he will acknowledge this child.” Her jaw drops at my boldness, but the line is drawn, I will guard the rights of my babe against all comers. Elizabeth Proctor stares after me as I leave the room. It is only when I reach the stairs that I begin to tremble and feel hot tears in my eyes. “Calm Esther, be calm” I tell myself and take deep, deep breaths before I head upstairs calling for Samuel and Abigail as I go.

I don’t have a tag list as such I just tag my followers if I have missed anyone I apologise and if you don’t want to be tagged on future please let me know. 

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[knittastically]

For those who have already seen this I apologise, this is the (slightly) amended version. Not radically different but still. I told you I am a “Numpty Novice”

There is no Witch Hunt, there is no trial, there may be trials!

Part One John and Esther

Only about ½ a mile from home I reckon, and I’m not worried about walking it in the dark. An almost full moon casts a bright light on the frosted ground and I pick out the path easily. Besides I have a stout stick and I know how to use it, though hope I don’t have to, without it I’ll struggle to walk. Master Proctor’s best milk cow kicked me across the milking parlour two days ago, I’m bruised and have a gash above my right knee where she sliced me with her hoof. Damned beast next time I go to milk her I’ll take a switch to her arse if she thinks to try again.

It’s not usually my task to go to Market, but Master Proctor said I must. Susannah’s away and the Mistress is not well enough, so it fell to me. Three miles there, three miles back and standing in the cold to boot. It’s an escape from my usual chores, I’ve enjoyed the gossip and I know the Mistress will be pleased. The butter and cheese has all sold, and even after purchasing the linen she needed, which now sits in the basket, there’s still a healthy profit. I check that my pocket is tied tightly around my waist and well hidden under my skirts.

Elizabeth Proctor is good Mistress, she gives credit where it’s due but you know when she’s displeased. Although she seems a frail woman she has backbone and needs it to deal with John Proctor, that dour bear of a man. I doubt I’ve seen him smile in the 6 months I’ve been in service. Aye, she can well keep him in check with her quiet voice and iron will, it does not do to cross her.

As I rest to ease my leg, I turn to thinking on John Proctor. He seems forever angry but he works hard to make the farm prosper and I’ve heard him talk to the Mistress about buying more stock, building a new barn. Standing here in the cold I think of the hours of hard, physical labour he puts in every day, ploughing and sowing clearing new ground, tending the beasts, All to keep his wife and children clothed and fed, to pay for servants to ease her burden and to give him a status in the community. Strangely he never takes on a farmhand to ease his own workload but I suppose his son will soon be of an age to help him.

A recollection from a sennight ago drops into my mind. A cold Autumn day and Master Proctor was stripped to the waist sawing logs. The sweat glistening and slick on his chest, the muscles of his arms corded and hard. My breath hitches of its own accord at the remembrance of it, my pulse is racing, I wonder to myself how it would be to feel his skin beneath my fingers. My face burns for shame and I try to banish the picture.

“Esther” my heart pounds and I flinch with surprise “Esther” I know that voice, deep and rich. He is there a few feet in front of me, there is no need of a lantern on such a night and he knows the path well. “Aye Master Proctor”

“What are you about standing in the dark like a simpleton? “Elizabeth bade me come look for you as you’re so late. There is something in his eye’s which gives the lie to what he says.   Supper will soon be on the table girl and I’m of no mind to eat mine cold, with or without salt,” “I had to stop to ease my leg,  I’m sorry, it’s kind of the Mistress to think of me I’m just a bit slower than usual, your damned milk cow saw to that” I add under my breath, but he hears me and I swear I hear him chuckle. He steps towards me with such purpose.

“I’m sorry girl, I should have arranged for you to travel with farmer Hathorn it was not charitable of me to expect you to walk I did not think” His look is fierce and hot, he has not yet washed, and there are smears of dirt cross his forehead. My heart almost stops. The air grows warmer between us.

“John” I shock myself with my boldness. It has always been Master Proctor, Master, or Sir. Never John. I see his brow rise and his forehead is furrowed. Moonlight turns his face to marble and without thought I settle my fingers against his cheek feeling his weathered skin and the softness of his beard where it reaches the corner of his mouth. He shivers and it’s not from cold then rests his own large rough and calloused hand over mine. “John did Elizabeth truly send you to look for me?”

His answer is swift as he hauls me forward against his chest, the rough wool of his coat scratching against my face. My stick clatters to the floor and he takes the basket from my arm dropping it somewhere behind him. “No, Esther, she did not send me.” He whispers his voice so soft and smoky. Oh, the scent of him, sweet hay and tilled earth, stock pens and sweat, fire smoke and wool. I slide my arms under his coat and my hands crawl unbidden up his back feeling the hard muscles there. He yanks my head covering away and flings it into the bushes, where it hangs like a flag of surrender. “Your hair girl”, he growls against my ear, with a breath so hot I fear it will leave a burn on my skin. “Your hair is like fire, I’ve stood beneath your window on Summer mornings and seen the sun light dancing on it.”

“John stop, we must go home, Elizabeth will be...” My words fall into his open mouth and he breathes them back at me mixed with his own sigh. I had never thought such a man could be so gentle. His lips clip mine, his mouth is softer than I could have imagined and tastes of ale and honey. I pull away.

“John not everyone has come away from the market, others will come this way we are not hidden and the moon is bright, John, Master Proctor we must go home before...” He holds me at arm’s length his hands gripping my upper arms. “Before what girl?” His voice is hoarse with emotion. “Before we confess to each other, before we condemn ourselves and are damned before God. Well if damnation is the price I should pay, I will pay it again and again” “You must not say such things” I am almost crying 

He raises his right hand to my cheek strokes his fingers down my skin and across my lips, I can see he’s smiling, such a gentle smile. “Esther can you truthfully say that you have not watched me when you think I’m not looking? I’ve felt your gaze burning my skin; if you speak don’t lie before God but most of all don’t lie to me” John is close to me now, and he folds me back into his arms cradling my head against his chest. “My heart is yours Esther, whether I be damned or not, I do not feel for any other woman what I feel for you” This time, his kiss is not so soft and I relish it, giving it back to him, tasting him, biting his lips, feeling his tongue in my mouth and mine in his. I rake my fingers through his short dark hair whimpering and mewling against his lips as he slides his hand beneath my woollen short coat to cup my breast. He strokes across the woollen fabric with his thumb relentlessly teasing the nipple beneath. Searing heat races down to my belly and thighs, I begin to shake and he holds me even closer whispering my name as he slips a hand between us cupping it between my legs. I can feel the wetness begin to soak into the fabric as he works his fingers hard against me through my dress “Esther” he groans against my mouth. Suddenly he is pulling at the fastenings on my coat and his hands are at the neck of my dress, I realise what he is about. “No John, No, don’t not like this, it is my good work dress, and how will I explain to your wife. Will you shame me so? He steps back suddenly a look of remorse on his face, then stands head down and fists loosely balled at his sides. “Forgive me Esther, I did not mean...” There is distance between us now and cold air swirls around.

As I button up my coat he retrieves my head covering from the bush and hands it to me before lifting the hair up from my shoulders and letting it fall back “Beautiful, he whispers. Will you forgive me Esther?” He knows the answer before I give it but I press my fingers to my lips, then lean in and press them against his. “Forgiven John, Forgiven” His eyes are on me as I cover my hair, an intimate act one which a husband would witness. There is a sweet, warm smile on his lips and it reaches to his eyes. Before he gathers up the basket and retrieves my stick he opens his arms wide and I fall against him for a last kiss before we head for the farm. Elizabeth will be anxious, but I know she will not question John when he tells her that my leg pains me and I needed to rest. John carries the basket in his left hand and for as long as we dare, we walk with our arms around each other. I relish the feel of his strong hard body against me as we head towards the pin prick of light, the lantern Elizabeth has placed above the door to guide us home. Our breaths are white on the air and tilt my head up to him for one last swift kiss. As he opens the door Elizabeth’s small voice floats towards us. “What kept you so late?”

John hands me the basket and he presses his hand against my back, it comforts me, for I have no way of knowing when, I shall feel his touch again. I dare not look at him. Coming into the heat of the house after the icy cold of outdoors makes me dizzy, and the smell of the fire, the food and the tapers, catches in my throat; I feel the colour drain from my face and my stomach churns. The house is quiet, we are so late the children are abed.

Mistress Proctor, is a small bird of a woman who flutters around like a sparrow, but she’s as fierce as a hawk and as unbending as an oak. As she looks up from her needlework I wait for her to chide me for being so late but she does not. “Esther you’re as pale as this linen, sit down before you fall” I sit at the table. “I am sorry for being so late and for keeping you and the Master from your supper but I could not walk faster. I think my leg is not healing as it as it should” I am glad Master Proctor came when he did else I may not have been home yet, but everything was sold at market and I bought you he best linen I could find” I slide my hands through the seam openings of my dress, untie the pocket and hand it over to her. She balances the weight of it in her hand and smiles, then leaves the room to count the money and put it in the strong box.

@fizzy-custard @hannibatchsmuse @buckyoakenshieldxo @trumoo-foryou @hellbull @whohobbs @princess-of-erebor1992 @chiara5cinque @il739143 @lady-jessica-9 @mezzmerizedbyrichard @thorinobsessed @mrs-thorin-oakenshield @princessbelgoof

[knittastically]

My First attempt at something like this

There is no Witch Hunt, there is no trial, there may be trials! Part One John and Esther

Only about ½ a mile from home I reckon, and I’m not worried about walking it in the dark. An almost full moon casts a bright light on the frosted ground and I pick out the path easily. Besides I have a stout stick and I know how to use it, though hope I don’t have to, without it I’ll struggle to walk.

Master Proctor’s best milk cow kicked me across the milking parlour two days ago, I’m bruised and have a gash above my right knee where she sliced me with her hoof. Damned beast next time I go to milk her I’ll take a switch to her arse if she thinks to try again.

It’s not usually my task to go to Market, but Master Proctor said I must. Susannah’s away and the Mistress is not well enough, so it fell to me. Three miles there, three miles back and standing in the cold to boot. It’s an escape from my usual chores, I’ve enjoyed the gossip and I know the Mistress will be pleased. The butter and cheese has all sold, and even after purchasing the linen she needed, which now sits in the basket, there’s still a healthy profit. I check that my pocket is tied tightly around my waist and well hidden under my skirts. 

Elizabeth Proctor is good Mistress, she gives credit where it’s due but you know when she’s displeased. Although she seems a frail woman she has backbone and needs it to deal with John Proctor, that dour bear of a man. I doubt I’ve seen him smile in the 6 months I’ve been in service. Aye, she can well keep him in check with her quiet voice and iron will, it does not do to cross her.

As I rest to ease my leg, I turn to thinking on John Proctor. He seems forever angry but he works hard to make the farm prosper and I’ve heard him talk to the Mistress about buying more stock, building a new barn. Standing here in the cold I think of the hours of hard, physical labour he puts in every day, ploughing and sowing clearing new ground, tending the beasts, All to keep his wife and sons clothed and fed, to pay for servants to ease her burden and to give him a status in the community. Strangely he never takes on a farmhand to ease his own workload but I suppose his sons will soon be of an age to help him.

A recollection from a sennight ago drops into my mind. A cold Autumn day and Master Proctor  was stripped to the waist sawing logs. The sweat glistening and slick on his chest, the muscles of his arms corded and hard. My breath hitches of its own accord at the remembrance of it, my pulse is racing, I wonder to myself how it would be to feel his skin beneath my fingers. My face burns for shame and I try to banish the picture, Esther” my heart pounds and I flinch with surprise “Esther” I know that voice, deep and rich. He is there a few feet in front of me, there is no need of a lantern on such a night and he knows the path well. “Aye Master Proctor” “What are you about standing in the dark like a simpleton? “Elizabeth  sent me to look for you as you’re so late, supper will soon be on the table girl  and I’m of no mind to eat mine cold, with or without salt,” “I had to stop to ease my leg,  I’m sorry, it’s kind of the Mistress to think of me I’m just a bit slower than usual, your damned milk cow saw to that” I add under my breath, but he hears me and I swear I hear him chuckle. He steps towards me with such purpose.

“I’m sorry girl, I should have arranged for you to travel with farmer Hathorn, it was not charitable of me to expect you to walk I did not think” His look is fierce and hot, he has not yet washed, and there are smears of dirt cross his forehead. My heart almost stops.The air grows warmer between us.

“John” I shock myself with my boldness. It has always been Master Proctor, Master, or Sir. Never John. I see his brow rise and his forehead is furrowed. Moonlight turns his face to marble and without thought I settle my fingers against his cheek feeling his weathered skin and the softness of his beard where it reaches the corner of his mouth. He shivers and it’s not from cold then rests his own large rough and calloused hand over mine. “John did Elizabeth truly send you to look for me?” His answer is swift as he hauls me forward against his chest, the rough wool of his coat scratching against my face. My stick clatters to the floor and he takes the basket from my arm dropping it somewhere behind him. “No, Esther, she did not send me.” He whispers his voice so soft and smoky. Oh, the scent of him, sweet hay and tilled earth, stock pens and sweat, fire smoke and wool. I slide my arms under his coat and my hands crawl unbidden up his back feeling the hard muscles there.

He yanks my head covering away and flings it into the bushes, where it hangs like a flag of surrender. “Your hair girl”, he growls against my ear, with a breath so hot I fear it will leave a burn on my skin. “Your hair is like fire, I’ve stood beneath your window on Summer mornings and seen the sun light dancing on it.” “John stop, we must go home, Elizabeth will be...” My words fall into his open mouth and he breathes them back at me mixed with his own sigh. I had never thought such a man could be so gentle. His lips clip mine, his mouth is softer than I could have imagined and tastes of ale and honey. I pull away “John not everyone has come away from the market, others will come this way we are not hidden and the moon is bright, John, Master Proctor we must go home before...” He holds me at arm’s length his hands gripping my upper arms. “Before what girl?” His voice is hoarse with emotion. “Before we confess to each other, before we condemn ourselves and are damned before God. Well if damnation is the price I should pay, I will pay it again and again” “You must not say such things” I am almost crying, He raises his right hand to my cheek strokes his fingers down my skin and across my lips, I can see he’s smiling, such a gentle smile. “Esther can you truthfully say that you have not watched me when you think I’m not looking? I’ve felt your gaze burning my skin; whatever you say girl don’t lie before God but most of all don’t lie to me” John is close to me now, and he folds me back into his arms cradling my head against his chest. “My heart is yours Esther, whether I be damned or not, I do not feel for any other woman what I feel for you”

This time, his kiss is not so soft and I relish it, giving it back to him, tasting him, biting his lips, feeling his tongue in my mouth and mine in his. I rake my fingers through his short dark hair whimpering and mewling against his lips as he slides his hand beneath my woollen short coat to cup my breast. He strokes across the woollen fabric with his thumb relentlessly teasing the nipple beneath. Searing heat races down to my belly and thighs, I begin to shake and he holds me even closer whispering my name as he slips a hand between us cupping it between my legs. I can feel the wetness begin to soak into the fabric as he works his fingers hard against me through the fabric of my dress “Esther” he groans against my mouth. Suddenly he is pulling at the fastenings on my coat and his hands are at the neck of my dress, I realise what he is about. “No John, No, don’t not like this, it is my good work dress, and how will I explain to your wife. Will you shame me so? He steps back suddenly a look of remorse on his face, then stands head down and fists loosely balled at his sides. There is distance between us and cold air swirls around.

John say’s nothing, but as I button up my coat he retrieves my head covering from the bush and hands it to me before lifting the hair up from my shoulders and letting it fall back “Beautiful, he whispers. Will you forgive me Esther?” He knows the answer before I give it. His eyes are on me as I cover my hair, it is an act of true intimacy, something only a husband should witness. There is a sweet, warm smile on his lips and it reaches to his eyes. 

Before he gathers up the basket and retrieves my stick he opens his arms wide and I fall against him for a last kiss before we head for home. Elizabeth will be anxious, but I know she will not question John when he tells her that my leg pains me and I needed to rest. John carries the basket in his left hand and for as long as we dare, we walk with our arms around each other. I relish the feel of his strong hard body against me as we head towards the pin prick of light which is the lantern Elizabeth has placed above the door to guide us home. Our breaths are white on the air and tilt my head up to him for one last swift kiss. As he opens the door Elizabeth’s small voice floats towards us. “What kept you so late?”

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