Chapter 26 #2
She gave one of the other women a nod. The woman, Mistress Le Tissier, whose first name, Loveday, made me smile.
It was such a pretty, wholesome name; but although she was a lovable person, she wasn’t beautiful and as far as I was aware had never been married.
I felt badly for her that her name didn’t suit her better.
Loveday immediately reached down and with a large feather drew a circle in the dust on the floorboards. It was big enough for all of us to stand inside.
Our space prepared, I watched as Loveday picked up an incense stick and waited for my grandmother to light a candle and place it in the middle of our circle.
Loveday then lit the stick and watched as it began to smoke.
She handed it to my grandmother, who circled it above her head and passed it on to the witch next to her until each of us had handled it.
The stick was then placed in a tiny holder.
Now cleansed, we stood barefoot and silent to ground ourselves in the cleansed space.
Two candles were chosen, a red one for courage and strength and a purple one for spiritual power, which we were going to need in abundance.
My aunt produced a small bowl of oil with herbs in it.
She set it down next to the candles, next to a sprig of basil for protection and one of cinnamon for energy.
My grandmother produced three crystals: clear quartz for clarity, black obsidian for protection and another I recognised as black tourmaline, to repel negative energies and protect us.
As our high priestess, my grandmother opened her book of shadows and the rest of us closed our eyes, waiting for her to begin the chant for our spell that she had been working on with Appoline de la Mare since the day before.
I heard her inhale slowly, but before she could utter a word, the sound of cantering hooves echoed through the air.
There was more than one horse, I realised with horror.
‘Who could those horses belong to?’ I asked, staring from one wide-eyed witch to another as we all stood in silence.
‘Why are they racing down our drive?’ I asked my grandmother, as if she knew.
We all knew that for us to be caught here with this evidence of magick being cast was nothing less than a death sentence.
‘Who can that be?’ Aunt Sorrel asked as she ran to the nearest window. I held my breath as she peered down to the drive and saw her face pale as she turned to us, a finger to her lips. ‘It is that hellhound, Theo Le Cerf.’
‘The Witchfinder’s son?’ one of the women asked, immediately bending to collect her belongings without waiting for an answer.
‘We discussed this earlier,’ Grandmama said, her voice shaky, though I knew she was trying to remain calm.
‘Did we?’ I asked confused.
‘You hadn’t arrived yet,’ Iris said.
Several women began fretfully to pick up their bags and put on their cloaks.
‘He is not alone,’ my aunt hissed from the window. ‘But I can’t see from here who accompanies him.’
‘He must not find us all here together like this,’ Aggie cried. ‘What is the best way for us to leave without being seen?’
‘As I instructed earlier when we discussed the possibility of being disturbed, you are to remain up here,’ my grandmother instructed.
‘No!’ Maisie Trehorel motioned for her two sisters to stand by her side.
My grandmother held out her hands, palm downwards, and lowered her voice to the soothing tone she used when persuading her clients that they would survive whatever ailed them.
‘It is the best option,’ she insisted. ‘Find somewhere to sit and don’t move.
Don’t talk either. We will go down and see what that fiend wants and one of us will let you know as soon as you’re free to leave. ’
A couple began to argue, so I stepped forward. ‘Please. My grandmother knows what to do for the best, I promise you.’
‘We never had these constant interruptions before the Witchfinder employed his son,’ Loveday grumbled.
‘I know,’ my grandmother said. ‘But we can’t do anything about that at this moment.’
They calmed at her reminder. I followed my grandmother and aunt downstairs feeling more fearful with every step. Could the Witchfinder be accompanying his father here?
I reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Pierre standing at the front door silently awaiting my grandmother’s wishes.
‘Wait until we’re in the withdrawing room, Pierre. Count to ten and then answer the door.’
‘Yes, mistress.’
The three of us rushed into the withdrawing room. This had always been a cold room, and we rarely used it these days, preferring the warmth of the kitchen. As I entered, I noticed a distinct odour of damp.
‘Maybe the kitchen would have been better?’ I suggested. ‘He’s been there before, so it wouldn’t seem odd for him to be invited in there.’
My grandmother scowled. ‘It’s too late now. If he was to see us hurrying from this room he might be suspicious. We don’t want him to see us flustered.’
She had a point.
‘Light those candles, Rue,’ my aunt instructed, going to the opposite side of the room and lighting the two candles in brass holders nearest her.
I did as she asked and had only just taken a seat and smoothed down my skirt when the door opened again and Pierre stood there, his eyes wide. He looked directly at me, then at my aunt. His gaze finally landed on my grandmother. He seemed at a loss for words.
‘What is it, Pierre?’ she asked urgently. ‘Something is wrong?’
Other than the Witchfinder’s son darkening our door yet again? I thought sarcastically.
‘Mistress.’ He cleared his throat and raised his chin slightly. I could tell Pierre was in a state. This wasn’t a man to show fear or shock, but something had thrown him and he was struggling to find words. ‘Mr Le Cerf is here with … with…’
‘Do spit it out, Pierre, for pity’s sake.’
He shrugged. ‘With Lord Thistlebury, mistress.’
None of us spoke. I wasn’t sure my heart was still beating. My father was here? ‘Are you sure it’s him, Pierre?’ I asked, recalling my mother’s warning and trying not to give in to the panic rising through me.
He nodded. ‘It is your father, Rue.’
Aunt Sorrel jumped to her feet and appeared to be about to leave the room, but before she could do so, my father appeared.