Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
William was an accomplished carriage driver. I knew that because I had ridden in carriages with him a few times, and he always preferred to drive the horses rather than sit in the carriage itself.
We rode along Pellar’s Lane, the dirt lane that led to Yew Tree Cottage, and then out onto the road that led through St Nantes.
As we jogged along, I tried to calm Hermione, who was shaking with fear and stress.
Violet stared out of the window of the carriage, completely immobile and lifeless like a doll.
If anything, I was more concerned for her than her mother.
Hermione was, at least, an adult, and she was processing her emotions by actually crying and shaking and making noise.
Violet had totally shut down. Anyone would understand why; this level of upset, on top of what she had already experienced.
Albert Trevarron was not a man that would let that go. He wanted blood.
The carriage turned towards the road that led to Tintagel.
The horses whinnied, but I heard William shout yah! yah! and click the reins.
The carriage sped up.
‘It’s all right.’ I leaned forward and pressed her hand. ‘It’s all right. William has the carriage now.’
We sped along, and as soon as William came to a dirt track, he steered the horses up it and away from the main road. Soon, we were passing between trees and fields.
After we had got safely away from view, William stopped the carriage. A moment later, he jumped down and opened the door.
‘Are you all right, ladies?’ He pushed his hair out of his eyes. His face was bruised and there was blood on his knuckles, but he flashed a sudden grin at us. ‘I apologise for the disturbance, before, but we are now free.’
Aunt Bill hopped down from the carriage and walked around, her hands on her waist as she took in deep breaths. ‘Bloody ’ell, that was dramatic. Like a Victorian car chase. Shortened my life by a few years, I’d say.’
‘He will come after us,’ Hermione said, worriedly.
‘He may,’ William said. ‘But we have an advantage, now. He will have to wait for someone to find him.’ A victorious smile played around his mouth.
‘I need some air,’ Nancy said, getting out of the carriage.
‘We need to plan what to do next. I didn’t expect to be caught by milord.
Not ’appy about that, I might say,’ she said, giving William a sharp look.
‘You might be very pleased wi’ yourself for fightin’, an’ I’m not sayin’ that milord didn’t deserve everythin’ ’ee got, but now you’ve put us in a difficult position. ’
‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ William helped us all out of the carriage. It had stopped raining; the storm had moved on already, and the night air was fresh.
‘Nancy’s right. When people find out what’s happened, there will be consequences,’ I said in a low voice.
‘I know. We just need to get Lady Hermione to York as soon as we can.’ William groaned, holding his wound. It still hadn’t fully healed and I dreaded to think what fighting with Albert had done to it.
‘William… let me look at that.’ I tried to lift up his shirt, but he removed my hand gently from him.
‘Tegan, we will get to that later. I am fine.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ I tutted. ‘And, we’d do well to drive this carriage all the way to York without being discovered now, surely. Albert will have the police after us.’
‘He may not. He’d have to be found, first.’ William raised an eyebrow.
‘He’s a powerful man, William. When he is found, word can go out by telegram to all the police forces in the country to find us.’ I fretted. I realised that William had no idea what a telegram was. ‘A message, sent by radio and written out at its destination.’
‘Goodness. This time has some improvements, then.’ He winced as I looked at his wound.
‘It does. Aunt Bill, did you bring any first aid, perchance?’ I looked up at my aunt, who nodded and reached into her bag. She handed me a pouch.
‘Likely Nancy would have better at ’er cottage, but those are some good remedies,’ she said. ‘Iodine for the wound, and a calming tonic that might be good for everyone. And we can make some new bandages if you need them, duck. These petticoats have to be good for somethin’.’
‘Thank you. And, yes please. A new bandage is needed. He’s bled through this one.’ I took the pouch and took off the dressing from William’s wound, cleaning it as best I could and dabbing iodine on it. He cried out, but bade me continue.
Aunt Bill bent over, hiked up her skirt and ripped a strip off the bottom of one of them, and then ripped the edge off that so that the piece she handed me was clean, and not the dirty edge of the skirt that had trailed along the ground.
I wrapped the cotton around him a couple of times and tied it tight. He winced again, but took it stoically.
As I finished my bandaging, my gaze fell on a circle of trees to our right. They stood at the edge of the moorland and next to an ancient-looking church. The yews, which would normally be planted inside the churchyard, were outside of its crumbling boundary wall.
I remembered the church. It had been derelict all the time I remembered being at Aunt Bill’s as a child, but we’d walked up here sometimes.
‘Look. A circle of yews,’ I said, staring at the trees.
The sight stirred something in my memory.
‘Evelyn said that there was a circle of yews in the woods behind St Nantes.’ I pointed to the clearing, in which there was a very noticeable circle of yew trees.
‘This must be the place Evelyn wrote about in her journal.’
‘Ah. The seven sisters,’ Aunt Bill said. ‘I used to come up ’ere when I were a girl. Me an’ you used to come when you were a maid, Tegan, do you remember?’ She looked at me. I nodded.
‘Mother never approved, always told me to keep away. Probably why, if it was a portal,’ Aunt Bill mused.
‘I remember the church being derelict. It looks like it might be operational now,’ I said, walking towards it. The graveyard still looked old – there were stones there with dates reaching back in time to the 1600s and before – but it looked more kept than it had done in my time.
‘Why are the trees outside the graveyard?’ I turned to my aunt. ‘They’re supposed to be inside, aren’t they? Symbolic of regeneration.’
‘Yes, maid. Because they re-roots themselves in the earth, the myths say they never die. An’ they don’t ’ave to, clever things,’ Aunt Bill said, approvingly. ‘Why, I ’eard of a yew tree was over one thousand years old.’
‘That’s remarkable,’ I said. ‘I’m sure Evelyn said something about a yew tree circle having the power to enable time travel.
Like the rose garden at Trevarron.’ I reached into my pocket and brought out Evelyn’s journal, flicking through the pages.
I found the one page that Aunt Bill had revealed by holding the page to the fire.
Aloud, I reread what Evelyn had written in her journal about how to use the yew tree circle as a time portal.
‘Interestin’,’ Nancy said, taking the journal and looking at it for herself. ‘You think this is the place she’s talking about?’
‘It has to be,’ I said, looking up at the sky. ‘And it’s a full moon. Isn’t it?’
‘It were full yesterday. Good enough, though,’ Nancy mused. ‘Are you suggestin’ to go?’
‘It feels like fate to find this place. We have to try.’
‘Now?’ William frowned. ‘But we promised to get Lady Hermione to safety. We can’t very well let Albert Trevarron take them back.’ William said, stubbornly. ‘I would die before I saw that happen.’
‘No.’ Violet looked haunted. ‘Not Father.’
‘Poor darlin’. Been hours since she ate anythin’. Just that biscuit.’ Aunt Bill shook her head. ‘’Ere, my duck. I got a bread roll you can ’ave.’ She produced the roll from her pocket; Violet tore into it hungrily. At least she had returned a little from her freeze state, before.
‘Yes, we did promise, and we still can.’ I looked around at all of us. ‘Nancy, you’re the only one that belongs here. Violet and Hermione do, but their life is unbearable at Trevarron. Aunt Bill, William and I are just visitors in this timeline. You…’ I trailed off.
‘Unfortunately, Lord Albert Trevarron will make my life a living ’ell from now on, for ’elpin you. I know.’ Nancy looked grim. ’Twas the chance I took.’
‘And we appreciate you taking it.’ I took her hands. ‘But you have a choice. You could come with us, if we go through the time portal.’
‘My love. I cannot leave. This is my time,’ Nancy said, slowly. ‘No. I ’ave to stay, an’ take what’s comin’.’
‘I… I’m sorry, about … I almost went back with him,’ Hermione stammered. ‘I appreciate what you have all been doing for us. It was just that… when he was there, so angry…’ She trailed off. I pressed her hand in mine.
‘Hermione, please don’t apologise to us. We know you’re terrified of Albert.’ I paused. ‘We know… we know what he did to Mary Elizabeth.’
Hermione started, as if she had been slapped.
‘She was ill. She passed away,’ she said, in a low voice.
‘You know what he did, Hermione,’ I said, as kindly as I could.
Even though Nancy had told me that the story about Mary Elizabeth was just a rumour, I knew it was true.
I knew it in my bones, and I knew that Mary Elizabeth had shown me, in my dream.
‘You must have heard the rumours, at least, if you didn’t. ’
I didn’t believe for a moment that Lady Hermione hadn’t known what her husband was doing with her older daughter, but I also believed that Hermione could have willed herself not to know. She could have pushed the knowledge down into her subconscious, put it into a box and shut the lid down tight.
‘You mean…?’ Aunt Bill breathed, and a look of horror crossed her face. ‘Oh, no.’