Chapter 18 #2
I saw him look up at my father’s portrait.
My aunt had many times wanted to remove it, but we agreed in the end that it was one of the few valuable items remaining in the house and went some way to retain an air of elegance, though that was fading with each passing year.
I didn’t often look at it because it brought back happy but now painful memories of how wonderful he had been to me as a child.
While I still felt close to my mother when I was outside – in the rose garden and particularly in the herb garden, where I spent hours with her harvesting herbs for her spells – this portrait was a connection to my only living parent.
Looking into his eyes, seeing the half-smile on his kindly face, reminded me of so many precious times we spent together taking long walks across our fields and through the woods; when he taught me to swim in our lake; or surprised me with my first pony on my fourth birthday.
I sighed heavily at the memory of the pair of us going for long rides, or flying the kite Pierre had made for me.
So many magical moments shared between us that made his sudden disappearance all the more painful and confusing.
Theo stared at the painting. He seemed to sense me watching him and looked at me before shifting his gaze to my grandmother.
‘Is that a portrait of Lord Thistlebury?’
‘It is,’ I answered shortly without giving my grandmother a chance to respond. ‘Why?’
He gave an apologetic smile. ‘Curiosity, nothing more.’
‘You haven’t told us why you are here,’ my grandmother reminded him.
‘I apologise.’ He gave a small bow. ‘My father sent me to repeat his instructions to Mistress Underwood.’ He looked at me apologetically. ‘I’m sure you have already shared them with your family, but he wanted to ensure you had not forgotten any part of them.’
‘My granddaughter is more than capable of passing on a message,’ my aunt said, sniffing disdainfully.
‘I am sure she is, but I must follow his orders.’ He clasped his hands together. ‘I wanted to give you time to catch up with each other before returning here.’
Did this man expect us to be grateful to him for staying away for barely an hour?
‘I believe we should go and sit in the kitchen,’ Pierre suggested, no doubt thinking of my grandmother’s aching legs.
We made our way through and sat at the table, listening as Theo repeated everything that had happened earlier. I watched my grandmother’s frown deepen as he relayed the Witchfinder’s instructions once more.
Aunt Sorrel glowered at him when he repeated the threats to my cousins and their freedom. ‘Who does Elias think he is?’ She narrowed her eyes. Like most women, my aunt was far stronger than she looked, and when it came to threats against her family she could be unstoppable.
I saw by the surprised look on Theo’s face that he had not perceived this. He cleared his throat. It occurred to me that there might be more to this visit than he was letting on.
I decided to find out more. ‘What did the Witchfinder really want you to come here for?’ I knew I was pressing him by the impertinence of my question but I was past caring.
His glance fell to the floor, confirming my suspicions, but when he didn’t answer, I added, ‘Are you going to tell us why you’re really here? ’
He thought for a moment as if trying to make up his mind about something. ‘I did come here to do as he asked,’ he said. ‘And I still intend to continue my investigation.’
He had the grace to look shamefaced. Ordinarily I would feel badly towards someone if I had embarrassed them. This time, though, I didn’t much care.
‘I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.’ I heard the nastiness in my tone and saw him flinch.
He shook his head, making his tousled white-gold hair move. On anyone else I supposed it would be very attractive, but he was the Witchfinder’s son and I had no wish to think of him as anything other than the enemy’s helper.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I would not choose to do this.’
‘Empty words,’ my grandmother said.
He passed his hat from one hand to the other before placing it onto the table next to him.
‘I want you to know I believe Rue,’ he assured Grandmama.
‘I’ve thought about this. When I can’t find any evidence for the allegations against you, Rue, I’ll do my utmost to ensure you are kept safe from my father, or from any mealy-mouthed individual who seeks to cause you harm. ’
We sat in silence and stared at him. The man had no idea what he was getting into, but to tell him would be to admit that I was a witch and I had no intention of telling him that.
‘Might I ask about Lord Thistlebury?’ he asked.
Shocked, I glowered at him. ‘Why do you ask about my father?’
His expression didn’t change. I sensed he was finding this meeting as uncomfortable as the rest of us. Perhaps more so as he was asking about a man who I assume he knew had disappeared ten years before.
‘I wondered whether any of you have heard from him over the past decade.’
‘We have not.’ My grandmother’s answer was immediate and uttered with undisguised disgust. ‘Although what he has to do with any of this I cannot imagine. He is irrelevant to us now and should be to you.’ She glanced at me, then hesitated before deliberately adding, ‘And your investigations.’
I couldn’t hide my surprise at her reaction. It had been so long since I had dared mention my father in front of her that I was taken aback when she referred to him. It saddened me that her hatred of him had not diminished.
I pushed my feelings aside, deciding instead to bring our audience with Theo Le Cerf to a close. I stood.
‘Talking of fathers,’ I said pointedly, reminding everyone who his happened to be, ‘as you have witnessed for yourself I have dutifully shared your father’s instructions to my family and you have repeated them.
I believe your time would be better spent continuing your enquiries about me rather than sitting here asking questions about my absent father. ’
‘I don’t believe you to be guilty, Rue,’ he said hurriedly, a wounded look in his eyes that did nothing to soften my hatred. ‘I merely wish to prove your innocence and remove this investigation into you and your family once and for all.’
Good luck with that, I thought, not allowing my feelings to show on my face.
Pierre rose to his feet and walked over to stand by the kitchen door. ‘If you’ll come this way, I’ll show you out.’
Theo’s mouth opened, but he closed it again without speaking. He picked up his hat from the table and stood. ‘Of course.’
My grandmother, aunt, Jem and I watched in silence as he left the room, none of us saying a word until we heard the front door close and Pierre had joined us back in the kitchen.
‘What do you suggest we do now?’ he asked scowling.
Something came to me. ‘I might have an idea.’