Reversing her direction in the notebook, Kim glanced at entries prior to Elizabeth’s marriage to Ronald. She stopped at another relatively long entry for 10 October 1681. Elizabeth recorded that on that hot, sunny day her father returned from Salem Town with an offer of marriage. Elizabeth went on to write:
I was at first troubled in spirit at such a strange affair since I know nothing of this gentleman yet father speaks well of him. Father says the gentleman espied me in September when he visited our land for purposes of timber for masts and spars for his ships. My father says it is for me to decide but that I should know the gentleman has offered most graciously to move us one and all to Salem Town where my father shall work in his company and my dear sister Rebecca should go to school.
A few pages on Elizabeth wrote:
I have told my father I shall accept the proposal of marriage. How can I not? Providence beckons as we have been living these years on poor land in Andover at constant threat of attack by red savages. Our neighbors on both sides have suffered such grave misfortune and many have been killed or taken captive in a most cruel way. I have tried to explain to William Paterson but he does not understand and I fear that he is now ill disposed toward me.
Kim paused and raised her eyes to Elizabeth’s portrait. She was moved by the realization she was reading the thoughts of a seventeen-year-old selfless girl willing to give up a teenage love and to take a chance with fate for the benefit of her family. Kim sighed and wondered when the last time was she had done something completely unselfish.
Looking back at the diary, Kim searched for a record of Elizabeth’s first meeting with Ronald. She found it on 22 October 1681, a day of sunshine and falling leaves.
I met today in our common room Mr. Ronald Stewart who proposes to be my husband. He is older than I supposed and has already a young daughter from a wife who died with the pox. He appears to be a good man, strong of mind and body albeit a hint of a choleric disposition when he heard that the Polks, our neighbors to the north had been attacked two nights before. He insists we move forthwith in our sundry plans.
Kim felt a twinge of guilt concerning some of her earlier suspicions of Ronald with this revelation of the cause of Ronald’s first wife’s death. Flipping ahead in the diary to 1690, Kim read more about fears of smallpox and Indian raids. Elizabeth wrote that the pox was rampant in Boston and that devastating raids from the red savages were occurring a mere fifty miles north of Salem.
Kim shook her head in awe. Reading about such tribulations brought to mind Edward’s remarks about how tenuous life’s threads were back in the seventeenth century. It had to have been a difficult and stressful life.
The sound of the door banging open startled Kim. She looked up to see Edward and Stanton returning from their visit to the nearly complete lab. Edward was carrying blueprints.
“This place looks as bad as when I left,” Edward said in a disgruntled tone of voice. He was looking for a spot to put down his plans. “What have you been doing, Kim?”
“I’ve had a wonderful bit of luck,” Kim said excitedly. She scraped back her chair and brought the notebook over to Edward. “I found Elizabeth’s diary!”
“Here in the cottage?” Edward asked with surprise.
“No, in the castle,” Kim said.
“I think we should be making more progress getting the house in order before you go back to your paper chase,” Edward said. “You’ll have the whole month to indulge yourself up there.”
“This is something even you will find fascinating,” Kim said, ignoring Edward’s remarks. She carefully opened the notebook to the last entry. Handing it to Edward and indicating the passage, she told him to read.
Edward put his blueprints on the game table Kim had been using. As he read the entry his face gradually changed from vexation to surprised interest.
“You’re right,” he said eagerly. He gave the book to Stanton.
Kim told them both to be more careful with it.
“That will make a great introduction to the article I plan to write for Science or Nature about the scientific causes of the afflictions in the Salem witch trials,” Edward said. “It’s perfect. She even talks specifically about using the rye. And the description of the hallucinations is right on target. Putting that diary entry together with the results of the mass spec on her brain sample closes the case. It’s elegant.”
“You’re not writing an article about the new mold until the patent situation is more secure,” Stanton said. “We’re not about to take any chances so you can amuse yourself with your research colleagues.”
“Of course I won’t,” Edward said. “What do you think I am? An economic two-year-old?”
“You said it, I didn’t,” Stanton said.
Kim took the diary from Stanton and pointed out to Edward the part about Elizabeth teaching others to make dolls. She asked him if he thought that was significant.
“You mean in relation to the missing evidence?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Hard to say,” Edward said. “I suppose it is a little suspicious… You know, I’m famished. What about you, Stanton? Could you eat something?”
“I can always eat,” Stanton said.
“How about it, Kim?” Edward said. “How about throwing something together. Stanton and I still have a lot to go over.”
“I’m hardly set up for entertaining,” Kim said. She’d not even ventured to glance into the kitchen.
“Then order in,” Edward said. He began unrolling his blueprints. “We’re not picky.”
“Speak for yourself,” Stanton said.
“I suppose I could make some spaghetti,” Kim said as she mentally reviewed what she’d need. The one room that was reasonably organized was the dining room; before the renovation it had been the old kitchen. The dining table and chairs and breakfront were all in place.
“Spaghetti would be perfect,” Edward said. He had Stanton hold the blueprints while he weighted the corners with books.
With a sigh of relief, Kim slipped between her crisp, clean sheets for her first night’s rest in the cottage. From the moment she’d started making the spaghetti to a half hour previously when she’d stepped into the shower, she’d not stopped working. There was still a lot to do, but the house was in reasonable order. Edward had worked equally as hard once Stanton finally left.
Kim lifted Elizabeth’s diary off her night table. She fully intended to read more of it, but as she lay back into her bed, she became aware of the sounds of the night. The most notable was the remarkably loud symphony of nocturnal insects and frogs that inhabited the surrounding forest, marshes, and fields. There were also the gentle creaks from the aged house as it radiated off the heat absorbed during the day. Finally there was the subtle moan of the breeze from the Danvers River wafting through the casement windows.
As her mind calmed, Kim realized that the mild anxiety she’d felt when she’d first arrived at the house that afternoon still lingered. It had merely been overwhelmed by her subsequent intense activity. Although Kim guessed there were several sources of her unease, one was obvious: Edward’s unexpected request to sleep apart. Although she understood his point of view better now than when the subject had first come up, Kim was still disturbed and disappointed.
Putting Elizabeth’s diary aside, Kim climbed back out of bed. Sheba flashed her an exasperated look, since she’d been fast asleep. Kim slipped her feet into her mules and crossed to Edward’s bedroom. His door was slightly ajar and his light was still on. Kim pushed the door open only to be confronted by a deep growl from Buffer. Kim gritted her teeth; she was learning to dislike the ungrateful mutt.