‘Never,’ said Lady Cornwall.
Lady Bennet knew how obstinate her sister-in-law could be. ‘Then I shall ignore you for the rest of the evening and tend to my most welcome and endearing guests.’
She angled her body away from her sister-in-law, leaning more towards Cordelia. She wanted to throw Margot out of her house, but that would upset her brother. She also didn’t want to have to throw her two nieces out in the process. She had always felt sorry for them, being under the influence of their callous mother.
‘Anyhow,’ said Lady Bennet to Cordelia. ‘As I was about to tell you before I was rudely interrupted, apparently it was Elizabeth Seymour who nursed Theodora back to health.’
‘Really,’ said Cordelia. ‘Aye, well, I’m well aware Elizabeth Seymour is one of the few in their circle to actually have the gift. She is a genuine healer, that one. Most of that circle is fake.’ She took heed of Lady Bennet’s expression as a warning not to go down that track. It was evidently giving Lady Cornwall and her daughters ideas of witchcraft. Judging by the looks on their faces, Lady Bennet was right.
‘Those two matriarchs must have patched things up,’ Cordelia said, changing the subject. ‘They have been archenemies for over fifty years.’
Lady Cornwall couldn’t help herself. ‘If you like to hear gossip, you should know that the old women rallied together to deal with you and your daughter, Mrs Clarke. They are well aware you two are witches.’
Cordelia and Lady Bennet ignored the old lady.
‘You would think Elizabeth Seymour would have taken a turn. She looks the worst for wear,’ commented Lady Bennet.
‘Aye,’ said Cordelia. ‘But, after all, it is Theodora who is the older out of the two of them.’
‘I never would have guessed,’ replied Lady Bennet. ‘Elizabeth looks withered and leather-skinned.’
Lady Cornwall had had enough. ‘Oh, stop this idle gossip. My ears will not be tainted with your character assassinations.’
Lady Bennet was rather disgruntled at her sister-in-law’s indignation, considering she was the worst for defaming other people’s reputations. She never saw good in anyone.
‘There are more interesting subjects to talk about,’ complained Lady Cornwall. ‘For instance, my husband—your brother, Maude—has been appointed by the king to train his horses.’
‘Really,’ asked Lady Bennet, genuinely interested in her brother’s affairs.
‘Indeed. You know how brilliant he is with horses. He will be soon joining the king’s court. Next year in July, if things go to plan.’
‘Oh, that’s great. But what about you and the girls? Will you be moving with him?’
‘We will be joining him later. He wants to get settled in first and to build a rapport with his majesty.’
‘Oh, I am so proud of my brother. Give him my best wishes.’
‘Of course, my dear.’ Lady Cornwall had played her sister-in-law. Knowing how dearly Lady Bennet loved her oldest brother, she had used him to gain Lady Bennet’s full attention.
‘Of course, when I move to the palace I will need new accessories. I will have to look the part. I rather enjoy the queen’s style of fashion. What do you think, Maude?’
‘Yes, I agree. Queen Anne has splendid taste. It rather suits her youthful glow.’ Lady Bennet tactfully tried to drop hints to her sister-in-law that Queen Anne’s fashionable attire would not suit a lady of her experience.
‘As you know, she has spent time in France and is highly influenced by the fashions over there.’
Lady Bennet knew of her sister-in-law’s ways. Margot was letting the lowly guests know how superior she was. Her topic was moving into the high society world that Cordelia and Beatty would never be privy to.
It happened so flowingly but still unexpectedly that she was soon ruling the conversation. Apart from her self-promotions, she couldn’t wait to impart her self-righteous judgement, condescending disapproval, and complaints. The poor were a waste of space and the courtiers were grovelers, falling over themselves for the king’s attention. Everything was wrong with today’s society and the younger generations did not have the integrity her generation had. She felt they were making a mess of the world and only she, of course, could know how to right the wrongs.
The day’s undertakings led Beatty to discover another side of Lady Bennet she greatly admired: her quiet strength and fearlessness, which surprised and enchanted Beatty. She was in awe by how little Lady Bennet was intimidated by her insolent and matronly sister-in-law. The old lady’s attempt to be righteously indignant and take the moral high ground cut no ice with her much younger sister-in-law.
Somewhere along the line, Lady Bennet and Cordelia picked up the conversation and managed to cut Lady Cornwall entirely out. They were so absorbed in their friendship they didn’t realise they were excluding her.
The old dame gave up the ghost and sat quietly alongside her girls, who had made no attempt at all to make conversation. Their only show of communication involved sniggers and dirty looks.
‘Will this be Antonia and Freya in the future?’ thought Beatty. ‘Gosh, I hope not.’
For the duration of their visit, Lady Cornwall spent most of her time watching Beatty like a hawk. Beatty could sense a stir in those piercing eyes. She moved uncomfortably in her chair. She felt the woman would be interrogating her with intrusive questions soon.
Her forewarning proved to be right.
Lady Cornwall first addressed Cordelia and Lady Bennet. ‘Lady Bennet, Mrs Clarke. I would appreciate it if you remain quiet while I question the girl. We have wasted enough time with chatter.’ The old lady took one sip from her tea and then turned her attentions on Beatty.
‘You girl, are you a witch?’ She minced no words.
‘No,’ Beatty answered plainly.
‘Have you bewitched my nieces?’
‘No, I have not.’
‘Can you fly?’
What a silly question, thought Beatty. ‘No, ma’am. I cannot fly. No man or woman can fly.’
‘Don’t get impertinent with me, girl. Have you ever conversed with the devil?’
‘No.’
‘Do you have familiarity with any evil spirits?’
‘No, of course not.’ At this point, Beatty was finding it hard not to show her irritation.
‘Are you hurting my nieces? Or have you employed someone or something to do it? Speak up and tell the truth, girl.’
‘No, ma’am. I swear I’m innocent. I’m not hurtin’ your nieces, nor am I contractin’ someone or somethin’ else to do it.’
‘I do not believe you.’
‘I’m innocent.’ Beatty wanted to scream, to lash out at the old lady. Mainly, she wanted to cry. ‘I’m not hurtin’ your nieces and I’ve made no contract with the devil.’
‘Why do you not tell us the truth? Why do you torment these poor girls?’
‘I’m innocent of your claims.’
‘I ask you again, have you harmed these poor girls by witchcraft?’
‘No.’
The lady wouldn’t cease. She was determined to get a confession out of Beatty.
Beatty answered no to every senseless question. Before long, she turned her head away and snubbed Lady Cornwall. She had had enough. She would not give further attention to her ridiculous queries.
However, the old wretch was far from giving in.
‘Tell me this, have you ever had sexual conduct with the devil, girl?’ Lady Cornwall asked.
Everyone gaped. A lady did not talk in such a way.
Beatty caught her breath. She was flustered with embarrassment. The shock turned to outraged dishonour. She was about to say something, but it was Lady Bennet who finally snapped.
‘Margot Cornwall,’ she yelled. ‘How dare you imply such an allegation.’ Her face was florid.
Lady Cornwall looked down her nose at the group. Governed by the support of her daughters, she felt justified.
The least impressed of the party was Beatty’s m
other. Cordelia sat next to her daughter, seething. Beatty could hear Cordelia’s heavy breathing, which she was inclined to do when she was fuming. Seeing her mother’s chest rising up and down, she knew what they’d be in store for if she didn’t calm her mother down. She reached for Cordelia’s hand and squeezed it.
‘Bite ya tongue, ma,’ Beatty whispered in her ear. ‘You could get me into more trouble.’
Her ma looked at her and nodded without a word. From the expression on her face, Beatty knew she understood. Thankfully, Cordelia settled.
As for Mrs Cornwall, she was far too poised with pride and arrogance. The old woman ignored her sister-in-law’s outburst and proceeded to interrogate the girl.
‘I ask again. Are you a witch, as my nieces claim?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Lady Bennet said, once again coming to Beatty’s defence.
Lady Cornwall tightened her lips, betraying annoyance at her sister-in-law’s defiance.
Maude Bennet was a strong believer that witchcraft was nothing but silly, superstitious nonsense. Her patience exhausted, she met Margot Cornwall’s eyes with equal dare. ‘Margot Cornwall,’ she said. ‘Why do you give such power to the devil? You talk as if diabolical powers are running the world, when in truth, as a Christian, you should be attributing all power to God. Is it not God who has power over the devil and not the other way around?’
Lady Cornwall felt scrutinised. How dare Maude question her piety, she seethed. She was so upset she refused to have any further dialogue with her sister-in-law. She decided her husband would be hearing about this. She would leave him to have words with his favourite little sister.
She sat silently with her daughters, all three pouting. They were unaware their silent treatment was not a form of punishment but a gift to the others. Their muteness allowed Cordelia and Lady Bennet to fall freely into idle chat. They almost forgot the other ladies were there, and without inhibition earned some sniggers from the pouters sitting across from them. The hostile reactions brought the two women back to their surroundings.
The indifference that hung in the air was felt by all. They had quietened right down. Lady Bennet lightened the moment by offering another serve of tea and biscuits. All that could be heard thereafter was the tea cups and saucers clinking.
The silence was broken by growling sounds in the background of a deep and guttural nature.
‘Here we go again,’ thought Beatty.
‘What is that horrible noise?’ Lady Bennet said, turning to her girls.
‘It is Freya, mother,’ Antonia said. ‘She cannot help it.’
‘Freya, do stop that,’ her mother ordered. She would not have a repeat of last time.
Freya looked around at every face, bewildered, as though she had come out of a trance.
‘You were making noises,’ Antonia said. ‘You were growling. Mother ordered you to stop it.’
Freya was close to tears. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘Stop these silly little games, Freya,’ chided her mother. ‘Stop it right now or I shall send you to your room. Do you understand?’
Freya’s gaze dropped. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ She hung her head, surrendering herself to her mother’s will.
She and her sister went back to sharing a book.
As for the adults, to ease the tension between the women, Lady Bennet suggested they play some cards. She rang for the maid to bring in the card table and the deck of cards. When the game commenced, it brought them all together, though the atmosphere remained a little on the edgy side. At least Lady Cornwall had ceased her insistent inquisition. Lady Bennet’s plan to distract her sister-in-law was successful. She knew her sister-in-law loved to play cards.
Just when there was peace, the growls started again.
At first, Lady Bennet rolled her eyes and pretended to ignore them, but she jumped to her feet and looked across at the girls when a scream came from her eldest daughter. She stopped breathing when she spied Antonia in distress and Freya convulsing on the floor.
Antonia was up on her feet. She covered her mouth as she looked on with horror at her sister thrashing. Spittle was coming from Freya’s mouth. The troubled girl’s body began to contort. First her face stretched out of proportion, taking on odd shapes, becoming inhumanly recognisable. Her arms bended into shapes unimaginable. Her head turned in unbelievable degrees. Her torso interchanged from rising off the floor to bloating like a balloon.
Everyone could do nothing but look on with startled expressions.
Lady Bennet sprang to her feet and raced over to help her child. She tried to stop Freya’s torso from rising off the floor. It was a losing battle as she tried frantically to peg her down. Freya’s head started to move left to right, evolving into a frenzied to and fro. Lady Bennet tried to grip Freya’s face, but Freya grabbed hold of her and threw her across the room.
Cordelia rushed to Lady Bennet’s side to help her up. The other guests had not moved.
Beatty dared not to go anywhere near the scene. It would be hard enough to defend her innocence. Her presence in the room alone would invite accusations.
Freya’s condition escalated to convulsions on the floor and Antonia lapsing into a trance. ‘My sister said she won’t get better until that witch is banished from her presence,’ Antonia said. Her masculine voice was alien.
Beatty felt all eyes fall upon her. She turned to Lady Bennet. ‘May I please excuse myself, ma’am?’
Lady Bennet nodded and gave her a warm smile.
‘Halt,’ Lady Cornwall called, approaching Beatty. ‘How could you not see this evil girl is behind your daughters’ sickness?’ she said, chastising Lady Bennet for her ignorance. ‘Can you not see she is a witch, Maude?’
‘I am not a witch,’ Beatty declared.
‘Here,’ Lady Cornwall said, pulling a pair of scissors from her bag. She had come prepared, Beatty noted.
The old woman took hold of Beatty’s hair, snipped a portion off, and handed it to her sister-in-law. ‘Throw this in the fire,’ she demanded. ‘It will weaken the witch’s powers. And this will too.’ She scratched Beatty’s face. Warm blood seeped from her cheek.
Lady Bennet, the rational thinker, was not going to be browbeaten by her haughty sister-in-law. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Margot.’ She threw the clump of hair into the fire, not to break the witch’s spell, but to be rid of it. ‘You give witches far too much power.’ She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt and handed it to Beatty.
Beatty wiped the blood from her cheek. Aside from the girls, she’d never felt such rage towards anyone before. ‘Why are you treatin’ me like this?’ she asked. ‘I haven’t done anythin’ to you, have I?’
‘And you never shall,’ Lady Cornwall said. She slapped Beatty hard. Beatty wanted to slap her back, but she refrained. She took the sensible path by turning and leaving the room.
Beatty was sitting at her chair, doing her needle work, when her mother returned.
‘How did it go?’ Beatty asked.
‘You wouldn’t believe it,’ Cordelia said. ‘Freya came good as soon as you left the room. So did Antonia.’
‘If it be a game with ’em, ma, they’re really puttin’ on a show. They’ve been at it for a while.’
‘Let me see, it was close to six months ago when Freya first fell ill.’
‘Really? It feels longer than that. Old Lady Cornwall is convinced I’m doin’ witchcraft on the girls. Ma, what’s goin’ to happen to me?’
‘Well, I’ve persuaded her to examine the situation over a course of time before accusin’ me daughter of witchcraft. Either the girls will give up their game or should there be something really going on, hopefully, the Squire will discover what it is.’
‘I hope so, ma. Can’t take much more. Me friend in London was accused of bein’ a witch. They hung her.’
‘Let’s hope it don’t come to that, Beatty.’
‘Oh, aye, ma. What does Lady Cornwall expect of me then? How does she wish to examine the situation?’
&nbs
p; ‘She wants you to drop in every day while she’s here. She’s stayin’ on for three weeks. She wants to journal everythin’. She’ll send for you each day. Some days she wants to journal while Mr Bennet is home, so he can see what is happenin’. Like Maude, he believes magic and witchcraft is nonsense. He believes there is a logical reason Antonia and Freya have taken ill and that reason must be discovered.’
‘Oh, he be a scientist alright. No denyin’ that.’ They both laughed.
Beatty visited the Bennets’ residence at Lady Cornwall’s command. Each week the drama escalated. Often, one of the girls would go into fits and when Beatty left the room the fits would stop. After a while, the routine changed. Beatty’s presence no longer had an effect.
When Beatty left the room, the girls would carry on convulsing. The fits were beginning to take their toll on the poor girls; they would go on for a good half an hour to three quarters of an hour. Even Beatty was convinced that something had a hold on these children. She just had to prove it wasn’t coming from her.
Freya’s fits seemed more severe than Antonia’s. She had been suffering the longest.
The horror was taking its toll on Beatty too. Often the girls would go crazy and attack her. Beatty looked like a battle-scarred soldier.
One day when Beatty was ordered to the abbey, the girls weren’t falling into fits. It was a normal day for once. Beatty was about to leave when Freya’s altered personality manifested. She crawled under the table and nobody could coerce her out. The guttural noises coming out of her made the hairs on Beatty’s arms stand up. The animalistic metamorphoses usually entailed the worst attacks.
Antonia had also gone into a trance. In her stupor, she was the voice for Freya.
‘Freya commands the witch to come to her. She says the only way she can stop the spell is to scratch the witch’s face.’
Beatty refused. She could feel Lady Cornwall glaring at her in contempt, but she wasn’t the one being thrown into the lion’s den. Lady Bennet usually stayed away from these experiments, but on this occasion, she was present.
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