Witchbane

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

RUE

Ireached out to pick a buttercup from the bank beside me.

The sound of a horse squealing wrenched through the air followed by an immediate thump.

I stilled, trying to work out what could have happened.

My breath caught in my throat as I heard heavy hooves cantering towards me from higher up the lane.

The animal was bolting and coming my way.

My heart raced. I scanned either side of me, looking for a means of escaping the narrow lane, but the banks were too high to scramble up before the horse reached me.

He appeared around the corner at speed, his black ears flat against his head and nostrils flared.

He was terrified. As was I. Panicked, I recalled seeing Pierre stepping in front of bolting horses to stop them escaping my father’s field when I was younger.

Unable to get out of the animal’s way, I had little choice but to do the same and hope for the best.

I stretched my arms wide and stood perfectly still, forcing myself to speak, desperate to calm the horse. ‘Steady, boy,’ I said, my voice shaking. ‘Steady now. You’re going to be fine.’

Startled to see me, the horse skidded to a halt, almost sitting as he slid towards me in the damp soil. I held my breath and stepped slowly towards him, keeping my arms low but in front of me ready to catch him.

‘That’s a good boy,’ I soothed. I reached out slowly and took the reins near his bridle in one hand and gently stroked the muscular neck that was already foaming with sweat. He was terrified and panting.

‘There, that’s it.’

I stroked his neck as he slowly calmed, trying to work out how to turn this enormous animal around in the narrow space without frightening him again.

I knew enough about horses to know that sudden movement could startle nervous animals.

Pierre had always insisted it was safer to be on top of a large animal.

It was slippery in the confined space despite the hot weather, and I thought that the safest place for me to be, if I wasn’t to end up being trampled, was on the horse’s back.

When I thought him calm enough, I took hold of the reins in one hand, bunched up my skirts in the other and, slipping my left foot in the stirrup, mounted him.

Then, taking a steadying breath, I stroked his neck again and, speaking to him calmly, pulled on the left rein and squeezed my left leg over his girth and my right leg further back, to signal for him to turn that way.

I was surprised when he did as I asked and relieved that I remembered enough about riding with my father when I was young to be able to do this.

I relaxed slightly and we were soon making our way back up the lane.

A short while later, I heard a groan, then saw an injured man, presumably the horse’s rider, holding his head with one hand as he tried to sit.

There was blood in the pale gold hair. I brought the horse to a halt and dismounted.

As my feet hit the ground, it dawned on me that I had been riding Theo Le Cerf’s stallion.

I stifled a groan. Of all people needing my help, why did it have to be the one man I had been trying so hard to avoid?

He winced, then looked at me in disbelief. ‘You saved my horse.’

Not wishing him to get the wrong idea I quickly said, ‘I saved the horse because he could have been hurt, not because he belonged to you.’

He blinked several times and stared at me, obviously taken aback by my animosity.

That snapped me out of my defensive reaction.

He was hurt and here I was trying to prove a petty point.

Embarrassed to have behaved in such a silly way, I knelt next to him.

He stared into my eyes and I saw his suspicion.

‘I’m not going to cause you further harm,’ I said, wanting to make up for my initial reaction. ‘Is anything broken, do you think?’

He moved his arms slightly, then his legs and feet, and shook his head. ‘I don’t believe so. Only my pride.’

He was embarrassed that I was seeing him in this state. I wasn’t surprised, I’d have hated it if things were the other way around.

‘That’s good. Now I’m going to have to look at the damage to your head.’ I took the hand he was holding against the wound and lifted it enough to try and see the damage underneath. More blood seeped out.

He grimaced and closed his eyes briefly.

I could see he was in pain and as much as I would have liked to soothe him, I wasn’t going to chance feeling any more for him than I already had done at the dance. We were born enemies whether we liked it or not. His father killing my mother had seen to that.

I pushed my shoulders back, determined to act as professionally as possible. ‘We’re going to need something to help stem that bleeding if you’re to ride home.’

He frowned, the movement in his forehead making him wince. ‘And you have the means to do this?’

‘No, I don’t.’ I pointed up the hill. ‘I do know the woman who lives in the cottage further up. If you’re happy for me to leave you here for a little while, I’ll go and see if she has any crushed yarrow.’

He reached out and rested his free hand on my forearm. ‘Thank you for helping me.’

The heat from his hand on my skin, his earnest look and deep voice made my stomach flip.

If only he wasn’t Elias Le Cerf’s son and didn’t follow the same vile profession.

I concentrated on hiding my reaction to him.

‘As I said—’ I stopped. My voice sounded so tight and high pitched.

I cleared my throat and began again. ‘As I said, you are injured and I would do this for anyone.’

He gave a wan smile. ‘I don’t recall you saying that.’

I pressed my lips together, embarrassed. ‘Maybe you’re suffering from delirium due to the bump to your head.’

He laughed, then winced.

Serves him right, I thought, hoping he’d keep his teasing to himself. I went to stand but he held me there.

‘Please, stay with me, just for another minute or two.’

I stared at him, confused. ‘Why?’

He sighed. ‘Because I’ve been searching for you ever since you ran off from the festival.’

Damn, so he had been looking for me after all. I might have known he would be tenacious. ‘And look where that led you.’ I knew it was beneath me to say such a thing, but I hoped he would take it as a warning not to try and trace me again.

He stared at me silently for a moment. I wanted to ask what he was doing but sensed that’s what he was hoping I’d do. I tried to stand up again but he was still holding my arm.

‘If you don’t let me go and fetch something to bind that cut, you could bleed to death.’

He gave me a doubtful smile. ‘I don’t think it’s that bad.’

I was reluctant to leave him but knew that by staying I would be betraying myself and everything I stood for. I wrenched my arm away from his hand and rose to my feet. Brushing dust from my skirts, I stood up straight and looked down at him. ‘I will be as quick as I can.’

‘Will you not tell me your name before you go?’

I looked at him in disbelief. ‘We are not friends, nor I imagine will we ever be. I am merely here to help an injured man.’

His face fell and I stepped passed him to go to Clarice Coutanche’s cottage.

I knocked on the door a couple of minutes later and waited for Clarice to open it. Instead, her daughter-in-law Aggie was the one to greet me.

She beamed at me as she dried her hands on her apron. ‘Rue, what a lovely surprise.’

Horrified by how loudly she said my name I quickly put a finger to my lips. ‘Shush, I don’t want him to know who I am.’

She peered over my shoulder. ‘Who?’ she whispered, stepping back into the dark room and gesturing for me to follow. She closed the door behind me and listened as I explained my reason for being there.

‘You’re helping the Witchfinder’s son by choice?’ Clarice asked, aghast as she came to join us.

Why was everyone so surprised that I was doing this?

‘I would do the same for anyone in need,’ I snapped, embarrassed to admit what I had done to two women who loathed the Witchfinder as much as my own family did.

I wasn’t exactly sure why I was helping the man I had spent ten years planning to hurt in revenge for my mother’s death, but I had no intention of admitting my shame.

‘Surely as witches our intention is to care for every living thing?’

Aggie grimaced. ‘Including the Witchfinder’s son?’

Clarice pulled a face. ‘She’s right, Rue. This man isn’t just anyone, is he?’

She was right, he wasn’t. I understood her reasoning but couldn’t not help him now that I had committed to doing so. I was weary from all that had happened and wanted to get back to him and help him so that I could return home.

‘I admit to being surprised to find myself in this situation, if I’m honest, but if you can give me the things I need to tend to him so that he can be on his way home, then I would appreciate it.’

They exchanged glances and Clarice’s expression softened. ‘Of course we will. What do you need?’

I relaxed slightly. ‘Thank you. I think some yarrow to help stem the bleeding and also a cloth to bind his head to tide him over until he’s back home,’ I said. ‘I presume you have some I can take?’

Clarice rested a hand lightly on my shoulder.

‘No need to fret, Rue. We’re only jesting.

’ She pointed to a table at the back of the room.

‘Aggie, you’ll find crushed yarrow over there in one of the jars.

Fetch some in a cloth bag and bring a long strip of linen with you.

’ Addressing me once again, she asked, ‘Will you need either of us to come and help you, or are you comfortable to see to him alone?’

Not daring to risk either of them slipping up and saying my name, I shook my head. ‘I can manage, but thank you.’ I gave an apologetic smile. ‘And I’m sorry for snapping. It’s been a tiresome day in one way or another.’

‘That’s fine,’ Clarice said. ‘We understand.’

Aggie came back with the things I’d asked for. ‘Here’s a damp cloth to clean the wound before you apply the yarrow.’

Carrying the yarrow and cloths, I hurried down the lane to tend to Theo. He was standing and leaning against his horse, one arm around the horse’s neck and the undamaged side of his face against the black fur, talking to him so quietly I couldn’t hear what he was saying.

‘Here we are,’ I said.

He stepped away from the horse. I looked up at him. ‘You’re quite a bit taller than me,’ I said, stating the obvious. ‘You’re going to have to lean back against the bank so I can get close enough to be able to clean and dress your wound.’

He didn’t argue and did as I asked. It was only then that I realised how close I needed to be to tend to him. I hesitated for a few seconds.

‘If you’re worried about hurting me, I assure you I’m tougher than I look,’ he said, his voice gentle.

I was relieved he mistook my reaction for concern and I resisted replying that he looked very tough indeed. ‘I’m sure you’re very brave,’ I said with a hint of sarcasm to hide my discomfort.

He laughed. ‘Sometimes I’m not as brave as I’d like.’

His eyes held a meaning I didn’t quite understand and I wondered if he was referring to me in some way. I pushed the thought from my mind and, moving slightly closer to him, removed his hand from his head. I grimaced. The cut was deeper than I had thought.

‘I’ll do my best with what I have.’ I leant nearer to him and carefully cleaned away the dirt from his cut. I felt his heartbeat against my arm and, shocked that I had been resting on him, moved back slightly. ‘Um, sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘Do whatever you need to do.’

When I saw he wasn’t offended by my closeness, I took the crushed yarrow and carefully packed it against his wound.

Holding it there with one hand, I took the wadding Aggie had given to me with the linen strip and placed it over the yarrow with my other hand, then draped the end of the strip near the damaged skin.

‘Please can you hold that?’ I asked, taking his hand and resting it lightly on the linen so that I had both hands free to bind his head properly.

‘You can let go now,’ I said, continuing to wrap the linen around his head.

He took his hand away and it was a few seconds before I became aware that it was resting on the small of my back. The heat of his hand felt comforting and I didn’t ask him to move it, wanting to enjoy his touch while I had an excuse to do so.

Unable to make the task last any longer, I secured the end of the linen strip and went to move back.

His hand didn’t drop away. I lowered my eyes to meet his and he stared at me for a few seconds.

It was as if time had paused. His eyes moved down to my lips.

Surprised by the intensity of the attraction between us, I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words I needed.

Neither of us moved. I felt one of his hands on the back of my head while his other arm tightened around my waist. The next moment I was in his arms, pressed against him, my lips on his in a kiss.

I couldn’t think of anything but the sensation of his mouth on mine and my body pressed up against his muscular chest. It was exciting and intoxicating standing between his slightly bent legs.

When I responded and kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck, he held me closer to him, a quiet groan escaping his lips. I didn’t want our kiss to end.

His lips moved back from mine until they were barely touching. ‘Please tell me your name,’ he whispered.

His question reminded me who he was to me. I couldn’t believe I had allowed myself to be swept away by him. My breath quickened. What was wrong with me? Flattening my hands against his chest, I pushed back. He let go reluctantly, hurt blazing from his eyes.

‘Please, I only wish to know you.’

I didn’t dare speak, mortified by what I had done and on the verge of angry tears. I ran past him, up the lane, hoping he wouldn’t be ungentlemanly enough to follow me.

I’ve let myself down, I thought, crying as I ran the rest of the way home. Not only myself but my mother too. What kind of daughter was I to give in to a handsome face so easily? I was a fool. I had no intention of allowing myself to do that again.