Page 21 of Witchbane

‘The boy’ was two years older than me at twenty. Jem and I swapped amused glances that his father still occasionally referred to him in this way.

‘Thanks to you, Grandmama and I also have one to enjoy soon.’

Pierre rubbed his hands together. ‘Please thank her for me, won’t you?’

I promised I would and left them cutting into the pie, feeling a little happier having spent a brief time with the pair of them in their warm cottage. It was good to know that however bad things got, I still had Pierre and Jem to look out for me and Grandmama.

I left them to it. As I passed Aunt Sorrel’s cottage, then crossed the dark yard back to my own home, I thought about how happy she had been in her marriage to my uncle Jarrod.

Although my grandmother and I sensed her grief, my aunt had rarely shown how deeply she had felt his loss since his death eleven years ago.

Uncle Jarrod was a kind man and an experienced farrier so when a horse he had been about to shoe reared in panic and one of his hooves collided with my uncle’s temple on the way down, we were all devastated. I wiped away a tear. Such a loss to us all. He had also been Pierre’s good friend.

Unlike my uncle’s and Jem’s mother’s traditional burials in our parish churchyard, when my mother had died, my grandmother and aunt, together with the other women in the coven, had gone to the Market Place in the middle of the night, collected as much of her ashes as possible and brought them back to the estate to scatter over the herb gardens she loved so much.

I felt the coolness of a tear on my cheek and brushed it away with the back of my hand. I stilled, suddenly aware that the presence of my mother, which I was accustomed to feeling, was no longer there. Or was it there but somehow different? No, I decided, bereft: my mother had gone.

I calmed my rising panic and attempted to recall when I had last felt a sense of my mother near me here. I gasped at the realisation that it had been several months ago – around the time when the darkness began to creep over my home. An icy tingle raced down my spine. If I was right and her spirit was no longer with me, then whatever had replaced her was powerful enough to force its way into this place where my mother had been laid to rest. The thought frightened me.

Chapter Ten

RUE

‘What do you mean, the Witchfinder’s son is at the inn?’ I couldn’t help wondering how Jem would know.

‘My father saw him there last night. Walked in as bold as brass he did. All golden-haired and full of himself.’

I thought of the man’s hair and how different he must seem from the worn-out farm workers and villagers who frequented The Grey Lady. It wasn’t surprising they were shocked to see someone like him in their midst.

‘And he stayed the night, you say?’ My throat tightened as my concern increased. Why did he stay at the inn when his home wasn’t all that far away?

Jem nodded and took my hand. ‘Left for the church first thing this morning, so I’m told. Then went on his way from there and called in to a couple of farms. My father said he’s looking for you.’

His hold tightened slightly.

‘Me?’

Jem frowned. ‘That’s what my father said.’ He seemed to consider whether to add something.

‘Tell me.’

He shrugged. ‘The lad at the inn boasted that the Witchfinder’s assistant tipped him a whole penny for taking care of his horse.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘No doubt he’s trying to buy villagers’ affection.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ I asked, wondering why I was the next person on Theo Le Cerf’s list.

‘Only that he has money to pay for information about you.’ I covered my mouth with my free hand. ‘Try not to worry too much, Rue. He won’t find anything on you, I’m sure of that.’

I didn’t know how he could be so adamant. ‘I wish I had your confidence.’

‘Look, forget I said anything.’ He shrugged. ‘At least we know he cares for his horse.’

‘I suppose so.’ I hoped this meant Theo wasn’t as unfeeling about others as his father. Then again, I knew of other people who cared far more for their animals than for their wives or children, probably because they were worth more money. So I supposed Theo’s tipping the boy could mean nothing. I had to admit, though, that the penny was generous, and I was pleased for the boy, but I didn’t say as much.

‘What are we to do?’ I asked, concerned. ‘He’s never come this way before to my knowledge. Nor his father for that matter – not since my mother.’

I didn’t add anything further because we both knew what Elias Le Cerf’s presence meant to people like me, my grandmother and aunt.

Jem gave my hand another gentle squeeze. His mother had been a member of the coven before her death and he knew, as well as Pierre did, about the practices the women in my family undertook. ‘Let’s hope it stays that way.’