by Anne Herries
‘That is odd,’ John said. ‘It is not our way. We fight with fairness and honour. If a troop of his Majesty’s men were in the woods, they would have fallen on the enemy and killed as many as they could, but to ambush one man from hiding—that smacks of cowardice and ’tis murder, not war.’
‘It was not you?’
‘What kind of a man do you think I am?’ John looked offended, and his sister was quick to apologise.
‘I did not truly think it, but I knew you were here and...’ She frowned and shook her head. ‘It would seem Captain Colby has an enemy. Perhaps a man with whom he has quarrelled.’
‘It seems likely,’ John said. ‘With Drew still unable to travel I would not have risked it, especially when there were more than twenty of them. I saw them pass by, but Captain Colby was not harmed then.’
‘How strange.’ Babette was thoughtful as she went into the hut. She saw that Drew Melbourne was sitting in a raised position and fully conscious. He greeted her politely and thanked her for what she had done while he lay unconscious.
‘John tells me I may owe my life to you, Mistress Harvey.’
‘I did very little,’ she said. ‘I see you no longer need my fever mixture—but may I dress your arm for you again?’
‘Thank you, if you will.’
He tried to rise, but she begged him to stay where he was and knelt beside him, binding him swiftly with clean linen and more of her healing salve.
‘That feels much easier,’ he said. ‘I am in your debt, mistress. I must think of a way to thank you.’
‘I need nothing but news of your recovery,’ she said and rose. ‘I must go at once, for my uncle is suspicious and I would not bring danger to you. Jonas will come to tell you when the way is clear for you to come to the house.’
‘We have decided not to ask my uncle for help,’ John said. ‘I found a man of Royalist persuasion who offered to help us and purchased a horse from him. We shall leave as soon as Drew can ride.’
‘But you wanted me to return to the castle?’
‘I shall send the coach to fetch you once I am home,’ he said. ‘My uncle might betray us if he knew we had been hiding in the woods. Say nothing to arouse his suspicions further, Babs—and wait for me to send for you.’
‘Yes, if you wish. Excuse me, I must go.’
Leaving him, she walked swiftly through the woods and then ran through her uncle’s fields and the orchard, noticing that there were more plums ready to be picked. Shaking a tree, she caught some in her apron and filled her basket. It would serve as an excuse if she were questioned when she returned home.
She wished that she might have gone home at once with her brother, for she no longer felt welcome in her uncle’s house.
* * *
‘Are you healing well, sir?’ Sir Matthew said on entering the bedchamber where his cousin lay propped against a pile of feather pillows. ‘My niece has made you comfortable?’
‘Perfectly,’ James said and looked at him hard. ‘She is a good woman and skilled in simple healing ways. You must not misjudge her or take my jest seriously, sir. I but called her a witch in fun. I do not think it, believe me. She is honest and innocent.’
‘So every man may think when bewitched,’ Sir Matthew said and shook his head gravely. ‘I did you a disservice, Cousin, when I suggested that you might wed her. ’Tis the reason I did not wish for a match between her and my son—her mother was a witch and, though I had seen no sign of it before, I fear she has taken after her.’
James was shocked, for he saw that his cousin was serious. ‘No, how can you think it, sir? The girl is innocent and her healing is only meant to help, not harm.’
‘Aye, when she chooses. But witches may change and bring about fearful things when they are angered. Her mother ill wished a man and he died. I know it for a fact, for I witnessed it myself. I saw his face after she lay her spell upon him and I saw him wither and die over the next few months...he was naught but skin and bone at the end. And Lady Harvey ill wished him because he dared to lay his hands on her daughter. He swore to me that it was but an innocent kiss, but the witch though he meant to molest her child and so she put her curse upon him and he died.’ Sir Matthew made the sign of the cross over his breast and muttered something inaudible.
James felt cold all over. He did not believe in such spells, but he knew that many did and the power of suggestion could corrupt a man’s mind and twist it so that he believed—and perhaps in that way he might think himself to death.
He pushed himself into a sitting position against the pillows to give his speech more authority. ‘I do not think Mistress Babs a witch and I would be grateful if you will not repeat such things to anyone. She is the woman I would wed and I do not wish her reputation to be mired by this nonsense.’
‘Think it nonsense if you choose,’ Sir Matthew said, ‘but when you leave, take her with you if you will have her—for I shall not suffer her here a day more than I need. She is my wife’s niece and I do not wish her harm, but I cannot trust her.’
So saying he went from the room, leaving James to frown and worry at the foolishness and wicked harm some men did with their superstitions. His remark made when he was hardly in possession of his senses had only added to the suspicions already lodged in his cousin’s mind. He had tolerated the girl here, but the old story lingered in his mind to haunt him. Sir Matthew had been determined his son should not fall for Mistress Babs’s charms and now James knew why.
The man was a superstitious fool and there was no way James could leave Babs here at the mercy of a man like that. If anything should happen—the cows go sick or a man take a sudden illness—they might blame her and... A shudder went through him, for he knew what might happen to an innocent girl if such a rumour took hold. And all because he had laughed and called her a witch, because her smile made his heart leap.
When he left she must go with him. If she wished he would take her to her home, though if he had his way he would carry her off to his own house and keep her safe, away from superstitious minds and evil tongues.
* * *
Babette entered the kitchen with her plums, placing them in a bowl close to the sink in order to wash them later. Her aunt looked at her oddly, her normal friendly smile missing as she asked, ‘Where have you been, Niece?’
‘I went for a walk and then collected these on my way home. I saw they were ripe for picking and if we leave them they will not last long. Would you like me to stew them for supper tonight or bottle them?’
‘Leave them to me,’ her aunt said and looked uncomfortable. ‘Your uncle says he will eat nothing you have prepared. I am sorry, Babette—but he has told me to send you home as soon as you can be ready.’
‘I know that I am no longer welcome here, Aunt,’ Babette said, saddened by her uncle’s attitude. ‘All I did was save the captain’s life. Had I left it to the physician he would have died before he arrived because he was losing too much blood.’
‘I am grateful for what you did, as your uncle should be—but he is a superstitious man. He thinks...’ She lowered her voice. ‘He thinks you use witchcraft in your healing. I tried to tell him you use only simple herbs, but he does not believe me. He has always said your mother was a witch and now—’ Aunt Minnie stopped as Greta entered the kitchen and shook her head. ‘Take a tray to Captain Colby, Babette. He was asking for you earlier.’
Babette picked up the tray of food and drink and carried it up the stairs to the captain’s room. Her throat was tight with emotion and she felt like weeping. Aunt Minnie was her only relative other than her brother and cousin, and now her uncle had banned her from his house. She would have to return to the castle and she did not even know if she would be allowed to stay here until John sent for her. If not, she and Jonas would have to go alone.
She knocked at Captain Colby’s door and was bid enter. C
arrying her tray in, she set it down on a table and poured some ale into a cup, taking it to the bed. She set it down on the chest beside him and went back to fetch food, but he caught at her arm, turning her. The touch of his hand made her stomach clench, and she tried to pull away, but he would not release her yet.
‘Will you not look at me, mistress?’
Babette glanced at him, blinking back the tears that stung behind her eyes. Before he came she had been happy here, but because of his foolish teasing her uncle now believed her a witch and she had lost her home. He had truly been her enemy, though perhaps not intentionally.
‘Something has upset you,’ he said, eyes narrowed as he looked at her. ‘What has your uncle said to you?’
Her throat was tight as she said, ‘I am no longer welcome here. He wants me gone as soon as...as soon as you are able to fend for yourself. Since you are so much better, he will probably bid me leave tomorrow.’
‘If he does, I shall leave with you.’ He swore angrily, saying as she flinched, ‘Forgive me, but the stupidity of credulous men who harbour such foolish ideas makes me furious. You are not a witch, Mistress Babs. You have done no harm to any and a great deal of good to me. It was my stupid tongue...and yet it was the reason he sought to promote a match between us. He already suspected you and wanted to keep his son safe from your influence. I think he thought you might bewitch the boy when he came home from college.’
‘I do not even care for my cousin...’ Babette wiped a tear from her cheek, tossing her head defiantly. ‘What have I done that he should think so ill of me? I have not flaunted myself, wearing only plain dresses and no jewellery—why should he think me so wicked? What have I done to deserve his distrust?’
‘I think it was rather your mother he thought a witch...until my foolish jest and the way you saved my life by your quick thinking. I am at fault and so I shall make reparation. I shall leave tomorrow and take you with me. My men and I will escort you to within a safe distance of your home.’
Babette felt tears sting her eyes. Once her pride would have rejected his offer instantly, but now she knew that she needed his protection and she was grateful for his offer. Yet even as she looked at him, her thoughts were of his own needs.
‘You must rest longer, sir. You lost much blood.’
‘And would have lost more were it not for your quick action. I cannot lie here and see you mistreated.’
Her uncle might send her away, and alone the journey would be hard and dangerous. She must allow him to help her, though it went ill with her pride.
‘You may not be fit enough to leave in the morning.’
‘I shall be fit enough to ride,’ he said and smiled. ‘I have been worse, yet still managed to do my duty. Do not concern yourself for me, Mistress Babs. Had I not made a stupid remark in jest you would not have been turned from your home.’
He spoke but the plain truth, and she needed his help.
She nodded, turning away from him before the tears could shame her. Leaving his chamber, she ran up the stairs intending to wash her face in cool water before returning to the kitchen. As she reached the door to her room, Angelina came running to her in tears.
‘You mustn’t go,’ she said. ‘I was lonely and bored before you came—and I shall be again. Please, take me with you. I want to come and stay with you, Babs. I love you.’
‘I wish that I might ask you to stay,’ Babette said. ‘With all my heart I wish you were my sister and not my cousin. Your father would not allow you to come with me, Angelina. He thinks I am... He thinks me a bad influence on you.’
‘He is wrong. Mother was always telling me to be more like you and praising you, but now she seems almost afraid to speak your name within his hearing. What have you done that was so terrible?’
‘I have done nothing save cut the ball from Captain Colby’s shoulder and given him a fever mixture to make him well. Please do not believe ill of me, Angie—no matter what people say of me. I promise you that I mean neither you nor your family harm. I love you and my aunt...’
‘But not my father?’ Angelina raised her head. ‘I do not love him, either. He is stern and cold and I want to laugh and run in the meadows with you—not sit here and read my Bible.’
‘You must obey your father and mother,’ Babette said. ‘If there were some way that you could come to me, I should welcome you—but only if it is allowed.’ She embraced her cousin impulsively and kissed her cheek. ‘Do not weep, dearest. One day a man will come and you will fall in love and then you may escape.’
‘I do not wish to marry a man of my father’s choosing. I want to come and live with you.’
Her cousin was in tears and, in comforting her, Babette lost the desire to weep. At least her cousin did not believe ill of her—and her aunt was unhappy at the situation. She might not believe that Babette was a witch, but she had to obey her husband.
Sir Matthew considered himself to be a just and fair man; he led a clean life, worked hard and worshipped God and expected his household to do the same—and for some reason he believed that Babette was a witch and in league with the Devil. Such a man could not harbour a servant of Satan in his house, though he had tried not to let his feelings show...perhaps because he feared her anger.
‘You’d better wash your face before your father sees you,’ Babette said. ‘Say nothing to Sir Matthew. Perhaps one day we may think of a way to bring you to me, but until then you must be meek and attend to what he tells you.’
‘Yes, for otherwise he would lock me up and give me only bread and water to drive out the evil,’ Angelina said. ‘I shall smile and be as meek as always—but I’m angry at what he has done and as soon as I can I shall escape and come to you.’
Babette made no answer. Her cousin was talking wildly. She was too young to wed yet and her parents would not dream of letting her leave them until the right husband was found for her. Had Sir Matthew not taken his niece in dislike he might have allowed his daughter to visit her, but in the circumstances it was unlikely—nay, it was impossible.
As Angelina gave her a small secret smile and turned away, Babette went into her own room and began to pack. As she folded her clothes and put them into her trunk, she saw that some of her things had been disturbed. Someone had moved the book of recipes that her mother had given her—she suspected that it had been read in the hope of discovering that she was using some form of the black arts, perhaps. They would find nothing incriminating in her notes. Her mother had been a good woman, a woman who gave selflessly of her time and knowledge to help others and she’d taught Babette to be the same—but she was not and had never been a witch.
Why her uncle should think it she had no idea, but it seemed fixed in his head and there was nothing she could do to change it.
* * *
Captain Colby ventured down to the parlour that evening. He looked pale and Babette guessed that he was in some pain, but he bore himself well and gave no sign of it. Babette’s aunt had told her that her uncle wished her to take her place at table and be waited on. She was not to serve any of them with food or to help in the preparation of their supper. It was as if her touch might contaminate others. While it hurt her, she sat proudly and let her aunt wait on her.
‘May I pass you some bread, Mistress Babette?’ Captain Colby asked and passed the plate so that she could take a piece. She thanked him and selected a chunk, taking care not to touch the rest of the bread. ‘Would you like cheese? Perhaps I may cut it for you?’
Babette thanked him for the attention. Her uncle had taken his bread first and she noticed that he turned the plate so that his wife selected from the opposite side to the one Babette had taken hers from. Aunt Minnie was pale and silent throughout the meal. Angelina defiantly took bread from the side her cousin had touched, her eyes flashing with pride as she looked across the table.
‘Will you have more ale, Co
usin?’ she asked and got up to serve Babette. Her father gave her a reproving look, but she tossed her head and filled her own cup before taking her seat. ‘I think the apple pie will not taste as sweet this night, Babs. Mother’s pastry is not as light as yours—and it is so stupid—’
‘Be quiet, Daughter.’
Angelina glared at her father, but before she could speak Babette shook her head, reminding her. She subsided into sullen silence, making her father look at her reprovingly.
‘I shall be leaving in the morning,’ Captain Colby said. ‘Mistress Babette has granted me the pleasure of escorting her to her home. I must thank you for your hospitality, sir—and you, Lady Graham. You have been most generous to my men and me.’
‘We were glad to have you, sir.’ Aunt Minnie looked close to tears and, after one glance in her niece’s direction, kept her eyes on her plate. ‘I shall miss...’ Her words were lost in her emotion. She was speaking to Babette, but dared not say what was in her heart.
* * *
Babette rose when the meal was ended to help clear the table, but Aunt Minnie shook her head at her. Feeling close to tears, she turned away and went out into the hall, intending to return to her room before she gave way to a storm of weeping.
‘Mistress Babette.’ Captain Colby’s voice stopped her as she would have gone up the stairs. She hesitated, and he took hold of her arm. ‘Do not let him distress you. He is not worth weeping over.’
‘I am not weeping,’ she said, her head up, though the tears were burning behind her eyes. ‘It is mere foolishness...and so unfair.’
‘It is my fault,’ he said. ‘I brought out his worst fears.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she cried. ‘Had you not come here it would not have happened. You are my enemy and you have ruined my life.’
Wrenching away from him, she won free and ran on up the stairs. When she reached her room she gave way to the storm of emotion that shook her, but later, when the tears were spent, she regretted what had been said. Captain Colby would be within his rights to abandon her to her fate—but she knew that he would not.