Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
THEO
Rue’s family and friends’ loathing of me and my father was palpable.
I understood why but that didn’t lessen my regret about it.
I had only just stepped outside when Pierre slammed the door behind me.
I had done what I had come to do and had little option but to leave Rue and everyone else at the manor in peace.
I descended the stone steps and mounted Warrior, reflecting that I had never felt this conflicted by anything or anyone before.
I rarely felt fear but that’s exactly what I was experiencing as I rode down the drive.
I needed to find a resolution of the allegations against Rue.
To somehow prove her innocence, as I had told them I would.
Recalling the idea that had come to me earlier, I believed that my best chance of helping her was to find her father.
Lord Thistlebury might have disappeared years before, but I believed he would want to know that his child’s life could be in danger.
Even though he had been too bereft to face life at the manor without his wife, after all this time I hoped his grief had lessened enough for him to want to return to support his daughter.
Rue needed as many people on her side as possible.
It’s a tentative plan at best, but it’s the best chance I have, I thought miserably.
I was under no illusion about the challenge of tracking him down. I didn’t even know where to begin looking. I rode on for a few minutes. I patted Warrior’s neck. I had been trained by the best to locate people determined to remain hidden. Up until now it had been the most important part of my job.
My thoughts returned to her father. What if my abilities weren’t as good as I hoped? A dark thought occurred to me. What if Lord Thistlebury was dead? It was highly likely after all this time. And if I did find him, what if he refused to help Rue?
I slowed Warrior to a halt at a crossroads several miles from the manor and sat pondering my next move. Which way to go? I looked at the wooden sign with one arrow pointing to Stanthorpe, another to Merryvale, the third to Oakley and the fourth back the way I had come to Thistlebury.
Rue’s father could be anywhere by now. It was most likely that he was living in one of the other Channel Islands.
I decided to speak to a few acquaintances in Guernsey, Alderney, Sark and even Herm, in case he had relocated to any of them.
Then again, I had heard of people disappearing and living in the next town, or even several streets away from family who believed them long dead. The notion revived my enthusiasm.
Warrior trotted briskly along the road. I didn’t want to tire him but he seemed happy at this pace.
I thought of my father and his reaction to me helping Rue. He would never understand my reasoning, but that was too bad. If she was innocent, as I believed, then despite my loyalty to him I could not find it within myself to aid the persecution of an innocent person.
Then I thought of my mother at home in our house on the outskirts of Stanthorpe.
I needed to share my conflicting thoughts with her.
She was strong but reasonable and, unlike my father, wasn’t too proud to change her mind about something when she received new information.
If anyone would understand my lack of conviction in this matter, it was her.
Twenty minutes later, as Warrior cantered along the edge of a recently ploughed field, I saw the chimney of our house come into view.
‘What are you doing home at this time?’ my mother asked, leaning to her right to peer past me as I entered the front door. ‘Your father is not with you, is he?’
‘I needed to speak to you about something alone.’ She reached up for me to hand her my hat and coat, but I shook my head. ‘I can’t stay long.’
‘What’s wrong?’
I saw her face pale and pulled her into a hug. ‘Nothing to concern you, Mother,’ I assured her, lightening my tone. ‘I need urgent advice, though, and you are the only one who can give it to me.’
‘Come and join me in the parlour then.’
She poured me a tumbler of water from the stoneware jug on the table, then motioned for me to take a seat opposite her chair.
‘Tell me.’
I started to speak but saw the earnest expression on her face and my throat dried instantly.
She was devoted to my father. I had seen for myself how his cruelty was often disguised as love for her and me.
My father could be a brutal man. She had done her best to shield me from witnessing the occasional beatings she received at his hands when she had dared answer him back, or defied him, usually in some imagined way.
I only realised when I was older in Norway that she had sent me away to my aunt and uncle for my protection.
Not that either of us had ever mentioned those events since then.
I had been brought up to believe in the Almighty and his goodness, and to fear the power of the Devil and his followers.
I constantly had to attend church services with my parents, listen to Father read passages from the Bible every morning after breakfast and each night before I was sent to bed, and also absorb his dire warnings about evil taking over the Earth if we were not constantly alert.
He fervently believed he and my grandfather had been chosen by God to purge our villages of the wickedness that witches brought into our midst. He had drummed into me the enormous cost decent people would pay if those practising sorcery became more powerful than the rest of us who followed the Lord’s word.
I drank some water and looked at my mother’s sweet, lined face over the rim of the tumbler.
Whatever he said, I knew she believed in him and his work totally.
What did I expect her to say? How could I put her in a position to even question my father, when we both knew the repercussions should he discover we had shared our doubts about his work with each other?
I lowered the stoneware vessel and sat back in my chair, trying to appear more at ease than I was.
I had no wish to alarm her, or to add to her daily burden of living with a man to whom she only showed an outer calm, despite an intensity of atmosphere between them that I could almost feel. I began to get to my feet.
She reached out a hand. ‘No, son. I can see you’re troubled, and whatever you may think of me and of’—she hesitated and glanced towards the door before continuing—‘our life, I am your mother and I will always attempt to do my best for you.’
My heart ached to hear her trying to reassure me. I leant forward and took her hands in mine. ‘I know that only too well,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘You are the best mother, and I could never wish for anyone more caring than you.’
She sniffed and I could see she was trying not to cry.
‘You are a dear boy to say that but we both know it’s untrue.
’ She looked down at her skirt. ‘I wish I was stronger and more able to stand up to him.’ She looked me in the eyes again, a defiant light in her own.
‘Whatever we may at times feel about your father, we both know he wants the best for us in his own way. Isn’t that why he works the long hours?
Why he exhausts himself in his quest to rid our lives of evil? ’
I had grown up hearing words like these most days, from either my father or my mother.
I had always admired his strength and believed his determination was rooted in his love for us and for our fellow men.
My thoughts went to Rue. How could she be a witch?
Or evil in any way at all? If she was, I felt certain I would sense it, or see it in her face.
No, it wasn’t possible. My heart surely wouldn’t be drawn to someone who practised the dark arts. Could it?
Unable to contain my thoughts a moment longer, I said, ‘I am overwhelmed with guilt, Mother.’
She frowned and gave my hands a gentle squeeze. ‘Tell me why.’
I studied her face, trying to gauge whether she really wanted to know or was dreading being told because she suspected why I was so troubled.
She was the only person I could trust with my concerns.
I decided to pass over my feelings for Rue Underwood, since to share them would tax a mother’s love beyond endurance. I forced myself to continue.
‘I’m sorry, Mother, but’—I refrained from mentioning the dark side of my father that I had never been able to accept, aware my mother preferred to believe he had never been violent to her in those early years—‘I admit that recent events have made me question Father’s work.’
I felt her hand tense in mine. She didn’t speak immediately but contemplated what I had said.
‘Theo, whatever can have happened to undermine your trust in him?’ She closed her eyes and sighed. ‘I take it you’ve seen a darker side to your father than I would have wished, but you must never forget he does have a good side.’
I kept my thoughts to myself on this.
‘Personally, whatever has passed between him and me, I will always be grateful to him for raising me up in the world.’
I hadn’t heard this before. ‘What do you mean? What did he do for you?’
Her cheeks flushed slightly. ‘I was one of twelve children.’ She pulled one of her hands away and wiped her eyes.
‘You have never seen poverty like my childhood. You think your father unkind at times?’ She sighed.
‘You have no idea how a father can treat their children. My mother secured work for me as a kitchen maid in a large house, but I ran away when I was badly treated by my master.’
‘Mother,’ I whispered, enraged to think of anyone hurting my gentle mother. Then my curiosity returned. ‘How did Father help you?’
‘His horse almost ran me down on the road. It was foggy and I stumbled at the wrong moment.’ She smiled slightly as she reminisced.
‘Or maybe at the right moment.’ I saw affection in her eyes.
‘He dismounted and after checking my injuries took me back to his home where his mother and their maid cared for me until I recovered.’
‘And by then you were in love with each other?’ I asked, lost in the romance of the story.
She gave me a sympathetic smile. ‘Maybe not in his case. He had recently been disappointed in love and he supposed it would take time for his feelings towards me to match my own for him. He offered his hand in marriage and promised that no one would ever treat me badly again. How could I not be devoted to a man who vowed to protect me and give me a home and the family I craved?’ She raised one of my hands and kissed the back of it.
I understood for the first time why she had remained loyal to him.
She sighed. ‘How terrible my life would have been had I not stumbled in front of his horse. I am not a man, and if I ever decided to leave him, where would I go? I have no money and few friends.’ She smiled. ‘Anyway, I have all I need here.’
The weight of her trust in my loyalty pressed on me but I was glad she had been saved, even if by him. I now knew for certain that she would never turn her back on my father, and also how much it meant to her that I did his bidding and preserved our family life as it had always been.
‘Darling Theo. I wish you would believe that all your father ever wanted was to look after us as best he could. Now he is bringing you up to follow in his footsteps so that one day you can provide the same life for your own wife and family.’
I forced a smile at the thought, hearing the pride in her voice at the future she pictured for me.
I loved my parents, my mother especially, but I wanted someone to be with me because they loved me and couldn’t imagine a life without me, not because they were grateful to me.
I didn’t dare admit that to my mother, though, since it would demean everything she felt she had achieved, and I wasn’t there to break her heart.
‘You do understand, Theo, don’t you?’ she asked, frowning when I didn’t answer immediately. She gave me a sympathetic look. ‘I understand your misgivings, of course I do, but your father is depending on you to carry out your work.’
I stared at her unblinking for a moment. ‘I do understand, Mother, but I must admit that I wish things were different and I was following my father into another business.’
‘Theo, your father only holds this position because of his skill in discovering these practising witches who hide among us in plain sight. His is an unforgiving role at the best of times and one that could end at any time, if the King or Parliament changed the laws to prohibit bringing witches to justice. Don’t forget that we only have this home because of his position as the Witchfinder here.
If his skills are no longer needed, we shall all be homeless. ’
I hadn’t realised the house was tied to the job, probably because I couldn’t recall my parents living anywhere else. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘It’s unfortunate but true. For your father to keep working as Witchfinder he needs to show there is a need for him to be employed as such.
’ She sighed. ‘We both know his arrests have been far fewer than your grandfather’s.
He constantly worries that those in authority are comparing his rate of bringing witches to justice with that of his father. ’
‘But times are different now,’ I argued. ‘Authorities expect more proof of guilt and are less willing to accept torture when extracting a confession.’
She nodded. ‘That’s true, but there are others who covet his job.
It only pays reasonably well, but there’s also the respect that comes with it, and of course the smallholding attached to this house.
’ She rested her palm against my cheek. ‘Now do you understand a little better why we need you to do your best for him?’
My heart sank. I hadn’t understood the gravity of my situation. Should my father become unwell or too old for the work, I would need to be ready to step into his place so their home would remain secure. How could I argue with that?
I saw she was waiting for an answer. ‘I won’t question Father again, Mother,’ I said, but I was unable to keep regret out of my voice. I wasn’t sure it was a promise I could keep, but I would try my best.
‘Thank you, Theo. Now, you’ve been away from your work for long enough and we don’t want him returning home and finding you here when you should be elsewhere, do we?’
I stood and kissed her on her soft cheek. ‘No, Mother, we don’t.’
I left, conflicted at the thought that my parents’ happiness and security depended on Rue losing her life.
I loved them deeply, but however much I wanted to do the right thing by them, I knew I couldn’t in good conscience take unjustified action against Rue or any other accused person.
Clearly the battle I now faced was one within myself.