Charms of a Witch

by Marina Oliver

  'Was he dead?'

  'Yes, and must have been dead for some time.'

  'That was a gruesome experience, but accidents happen. I am sorry you had to see it. Why does it concern you so?'

  'I know it could have been an ordinary misfortune, but when I tried to persuade Jem to pull him on to the bank, and said we must get the Minister to bury him, Jem behaved oddly. He pushed the body out into the river so that it floated away, and refused to meddle, as he said.'

  'Why should he do that? Do you think he had aught to do with it?'

  'No, I cannot think that.'

  'The man was going to the Black Goat, but there is nought strange in that, 'tis the only inn for miles around.'

  'No, 'twas what Jem said. He warned me not to speak of it, and then gave hints of witchcraft.'

  *

  'Witchcraft? Here?' Peter asked, startled.

  Lucy nodded. 'He seemed to think there might be some in the village, and this man's death was part of it.'

  'Why should he think that? There are many ways a man could meet his death without bringing witchcraft into it. Did he mention anyone?'

  'No. He simply told me to be careful not to talk of it.'

  'It seems he suspects someone in the village, and did not want you to say aught that they could overhear. That, or he knows more than he says about the man's death, and is trying to frighten you off the matter.'

  'But there could not be witches here,' Lucy said.

  'It could be,' Peter said, 'but methinks there are not many of them. Unless this man Matthew Hopkins has begun to uncover a vast army that worked in secret.'

  'Who? What do you mean?'

  'Matthew Hopkins. Have you not heard of him?'

  Lucy shook her head.

  'You are living a somewhat isolated life here,' Peter smiled at her. 'This man claims to have been sent to hunt out witches, and he has accused many folk, in the north of the county, near Manningtree. He travels about. Let us hope he does not come here, for he takes trouble wherever he goes.'

  'Brookley is too small a place for him to visit. But thank you for listening. I feel better for having told you.'

  'Do not think of it. Jem was right to tell you to forget it. But what of this Jem? Could he be involved, do you think?'

  'I do not think so. He seems kind, but he did act strangely.'

  'Be careful of him, Lucy. I do not say this from jealousy, I have no right to be jealous, but I wish you would give me the right.'

  'I will be careful,' Lucy promised hurriedly. 'Now, Peter, what of you? Do you return to London soon?'

  'No.' Peter smiled triumphantly. 'After Christmas I go to join the King.'

  Lucy's eyes widened in amazement. 'But I thought your father did not approve?'

  'He is still not certain of it, but Gavin changed his mind.'

  'Gavin? Oh, yes, I had forgot. He has visited you then?'

  'Aye. Mr Gavin Anstey came two weeks since.'

  'And he persuaded your father to let you join the King? He must have a honeyed tongue?'

  'That, yes, and my mother's persuasions.' Peter smiled wryly. 'You know her plans are to marry him to Sarah?'

  'Of course, we all knew. Did she advance those plans at all?'

  'I do not know. He is mightily pleasant, and methinks Sarah was taken with him. My mother certainly was, whatever his money and prospects. But he is with the King's army, and he spoke so fervently of the King's cause, implying that those who hung back would be as responsible for defeating the King as Parliament. My father could not withstand his arguments and my mother's pleadings. When I said before Gavin that I wished I could join the army, father agreed, albeit reluctantly.'

  Lucy reached across the table and took Peter's hand in hers impulsively. 'I am glad, Peter, that you will have your wish, but I confess I am afeard of what will become of you.'

  'The way Gavin talks, the war will soon be over. Support is being rallied for the King in all parts of the country. I am to persuade what friends I can to join me, and we will ride to Oxford after Christmas.'

  'Tell me of this Gavin Anstey.'

  *

  'He is somewhat above middle height, dark as you are yourself, a perfect courtier, and possesses such force one cannot help but be aware of him, even if he is sitting silently on the far side of the room. Everyone defers to him. He is not a man to cross, but a good friend, I would wager.'

  'Did he like Sarah?'

  'He was polite, paid her the usual compliments, but as far as I could tell did not avail himself of the many opportunities my mother made to leave them alone together!'

  Lucy chuckled. 'I can imagine Mistress Francis contriving such things. But tell me of them.'

  'Why, he stayed with us but three days, but each day she ensured that Sarah was alone at breakfast when Gavin came down. The rest of us would be hustled out. Once I had to escape out of the window!'

  Lucy gurgled. 'Which way did your mother go?'

  'She made certain she could escape to the kitchen the moment one of the maids told her Gavin was approaching. Really, he should have recruited her for the army! Her spy network was excellent! Twice Sarah was sent on errands of mercy, and as, very carefully, no-one else was available, Gavin was compelled to offer to escort her. Sarah was forced to play and sing each evening.'

  'Did she enjoy all this contriving?' Lucy asked, amused.

  'She was content at first, but after a while even she found it most embarrassing to be pushed so obviously in Gavin's way.'

  'But she allowed your mother to continue?'

  'Oh yes, Sarah has not the same strength of will as you possess to defy my mother.'

  'Mistress Francis is not my mother,' Lucy put in gently, 'or I might have been unable to defy her.'

  'I think you always would if you felt it right. As for Sarah, she knows where her best chances lie. Gavin took it well, but she was prepared to work along with my mother.'

  'So he is young, we knew that. Handsome, even by your account. You did say that, did you not?'

  'Do not expect me to be a judge of other men's looks, but the women all seem to fall into raptures over him.'

  'Is he rich?'

  'Tolerably,' Peter replied.'He has his own estates, and there are his expectations from Sir Humphrey, as well as the title. And in these times there are few chances for a girl. My mother is simply taking the best to hand, and Sarah realises this and does not wish to remain unwed for much longer. Normally she would have wed long before this.'

  'He seems to have all the necessary attributes for an acceptable suitor! Rich, handsome, well mannered, pleasant, soon a title. Sarah will be most fortunate to catch such a paragon of virtue,' Lucy said mockingly. 'It is no wonder your mother is in raptures. But to be serious, give Sarah my love and best wishes. I wish her happy.'

  'I will tell her so. And I will come and see you before I leave for the army.'

  'That would be kind, if you have time.'

  'I will make time. But now I must ride home, or 'twill be dark, and there is no moon tonight.'

  Lucy bade him farewell, and resumed her daily tasks, though saddened by the increasing fragility of her grandmother. They celebrated Christmas quietly, both from inclination and unwillingness to draw attention on themselves in that sternly Puritan district, which looked on Christmas as a pagan festival.

  Early in January Peter came to say goodbye, and to urge Lucy again to marry him. Smiling but firm, she refused, and reluctantly he rode away.

  *

  Peter left Delmead to ride to the King at Oxford with somewhat mixed feelings. On one hand he was delighted to be achieving his ambition of joining the King's army, but on the other he was worried at leaving Lucy. He was by no means as certain as she that Jem Perkins was innocent in the affair of the dead man. But there was little he could do about it, and as he drew nearer to Oxford he began to think less about the problems he left behind him, and more of life with the army.

  On reaching Oxford he made enquiries and was directed to
Gavin Anstey's lodgings. Despite the overcrowded situation in the town, aggravated by a severe fire some time earlier, and Royalists crammed into every available space, Gavin had managed to acquire two large and comfortable rooms for himself in a pleasant looking private house.

  When Peter was admitted he was told Mr Anstey had been called away, but was expecting him and hoped to be back shortly. Gavin's own servant was summoned.

  'Will you come into Mr Anstey's parlour, sir? He told me to prepare dinner for you.'

  'I thank you, but would it not be better for me to wait until he returns?'

  'The fact is, he can never be sure what time he is returning, and he bade me ask you not to wait. He hopes to be back soon, but the King may detain him.'

  'Very well.' Peter accepted the situation, and sat drinking wine while he waited for the food to be prepared. This took very little time, and in truth Peter was glad, for it was near midday and he had set off very early that morning, and was hungry.

  While Robert, the manservant, was serving dinner, he chatted to Peter, telling him the gossip and the news of Oxford.

  'I expect you will meet Mistress Fernley tonight,' Robert said as he finally cleared the dishes away.

  'Mistress Fernley? Who is she?'

  'She owns this house, did you not know?'

  'I had not heard the name before,' Peter answered. 'What is she like?'

  Robert grinned at Peter. 'A fine buxom lady, saving your presence, sir, and a wealthy widow woman too.'

  'Young, I take it?' Peter suggested.

  'Oh, aye, not more than three or four and twenty. Her husband was killed at Edge Hill, but she did not spend over-long grieving for him.'

  Peter raised his eyebrows encouragingly.

  'He was old for a lively young wife like Mistress Fernley.'

  'How long has Mr Anstey had these lodgings?'

  'He came here a year since. Mistress Fernley took a fancy to him. He was lucky, for few people in Oxford have a whole room to themselves, let alone two. But, as I said, you will probably meet her tonight. They often sup together.'

  Robert had by now collected all the dishes, and bearing the loaded tray he took himself off to the kitchen quarters, leaving Peter to ponder this information, and wonder about Gavin's relationship to the wealthy young widow and whether this would have any bearing on his mother's plans to wed Gavin to his sister.

  *

  Gavin, in the meantime, was waiting impatiently in the King's anteroom, having been summoned there several hours before. Eventually the King's secretary beckoned to him and ushered him into the King's study.

  Charles, seated behind a huge table, looked up and smiled at Gavin, waving him to a chair.

  'Mr Anstey, I thank you for waiting on me,' he said, with his never-failing courtesy. 'There is a special task I would have you undertake.'

  'It is my pleasure, Sire.'

  'I understand you have recently visited near Chelmsford?'

  'That is correct.'

  'You have connections there?'

  'There are cousins. I am heir to one of them, and there is another branch of the family nearby.'

  The King nodded. 'You visited them recently?'

  'Yes, I did.'

  'Could you return, pay another visit without rousing suspicions?'

  'It would be natural for me to do so,' Gavin answered, smiling wryly at Mistress Francis' inevitable interpretation of his reappearance in the area. 'What would you have me do there?'

  'It is a rather nebulous matter,' the King answered slowly. 'We have messengers travelling through Chelmsford on to Burnham-on-Crouch, where there are arrangements for taking them to The Hague. This route has worked well in the past, but now it seems likely we have been betrayed. Messengers have disappeared, the latest, Thomas Porter, in December. Some have been robbed, both of money and of papers; or the papers have been copied, for the information has fallen into the hands of Parliament. We used the route for bringing money back into the country, but on the last two occasions the money was stolen.'

  'Have you any idea where this has been happening?'

  'Very little. The messengers who have been robbed have not known where the robbery took place. 'Tis between Chelmsford and Burnham, but exactly where we know not. Some messengers have disappeared completely. We suspect they have been murdered, but one last week, though severely hurt, managed to reach the house of friends.'

  'Could he tell you aught?'

  'He was very weak. He had been stabbed several times. The only thing he said before he died was the word Brookley.'

  'Brookley? That is the village where my cousin lives. You think this betrayal goes on there?'

  The King nodded slowly. 'It is the only information we have, but we must follow it. We have few enough ways of contacting our friends abroad, and if we can discover who has betrayed us this time we may be able to continue using this route, while evading the suspicious area.'

  'I can visit Brookley and endeavour to discover what has been happening,' Gavin declared confidently. 'When would you have me start?'

  'The next messenger to travel that way will leave in two weeks time. He will carry nought of value. You cannot remain long in Brookley without arousing unwelcome interest, so I would have you go in ten days time. Establish yourself there, try to discover what you can, and remain until the messenger has passed to Burnham. Or is intercepted. You may discover something, and your presence may help the messenger get through safely. He will contact you when he arrives.'

  'How will he do that, Sire?'

  'You will be staying at your cousin's house?'

  Gavin nodded. 'Anstey Manor.'

  'The messenger will be instructed to call there two weeks from today. If he has not contacted you, let us say two days after that, return here immediately, whether you have discovered aught. If all goes well, and he contacts you, accompany him to Burnham unobtrusively, and then return here.'

  'I understand, and will do my best, Sire.'

  'I regret the details and the instructions are so vague, but I know I can rely on you to take whatever steps are appropriate.'

  *

  The King nodded dismissal and Gavin rose, bowed, and left the room. He made his way thoughtfully back to his lodgings, and welcomed Peter, taking him immediately to be introduced to the cavalry colonel under whom Peter would be serving.

  'You will lodge with me in the meantime,' Gavin informed Peter. 'Mistress Fernley has put another room at my disposal.'

  'It is very kind of her,' Peter said gratefully. 'I understand there is small prospect of my finding lodgings in Oxford.'

  'Little prospect of comfortable ones. You will meet Althea tonight.'

  Peter was intrigued, and he was suitably impressed by the flamboyant red-haired beauty Gavin introduced him to that evening.

  Althea Fernley was an assured young woman, completely at ease in their company, treating Gavin with familiarity, and welcoming Peter to her house in a most friendly fashion. Peter, while responding willingly to her overtures, spent some time wondering how his sister, pretty but undistinguished, could possibly compete with such a vivacious and sophisticated rival for Gavin's affections. Observing them, he was certain that Mistress Fernley was bidding for Gavin's attentions, though he was not so sure of Gavin himself. He treated Althea always with courtesy, often with flattery and compliments, but Peter thought he detected a little coolness, an abstraction of thought, which he could see made Gavin appear more desirable and mysterious in the eyes of the widow.

  On the following day Peter began in earnest learning his duties, and training with the rest of the recruits who were gradually coming into Oxford. Gavin, apologising for his own preoccupation, explained he had a great deal of work to do and would be unable to spend much time with Peter. But Peter soon made friends and discovered his own way round the city, so when a week or so later Gavin briefly informed Peter he would be leaving Oxford for a few days, without specifying where he went, Peter was too busy to be unduly curious and merely wished
him good fortune and a pleasant journey.

  *

  Chapter 5

  Jem continued to visit the cottage, bringing presents of game for Lucy and her grandmother, and the occasional combs or ribbons for Lucy.

  They never referred to the body they had found in the river. Jem appeared to have forgotten it, and Lucy was still puzzled by his attitude, but unwilling to press him for further explanation. Several of Mistress Dean's neighbours called to see her, and by now Lucy knew many of the villagers, but they still did not accept her as one of themselves. They were distant in their greetings, and withdrawn when she was in the same room with them while they were visiting her grandmother.

  Lucy had several times heard mention of Agnes Perkins, Jem's mother, but she did not visit the cottage, and Lucy had only seen her at church. They had never spoken, and Jem merely nodded at Lucy after the services. Several times, however, the visitors mentioned her, and Lucy realised she was a power to be reckoned with in the village, the women seeming to defer to her opinion and being unwilling to go against her.

  It was the beginning of February when Mistress Dean died. Lucy had risen early and come downstairs. She blew the embers of the kitchen fire to a blaze, and then went into the parlour to see her grandmother, as her custom was. She opened the shutters and drew the curtains of her grandmother's bed, and then something in the stillness of the room caused her to catch her breath suddenly.

  She leant over the form of the old woman in the bed, and peered close in the dim morning light. There was no movement. Trembling slightly, Lucy laid her hand on the old woman's brow, but it was cold. Lucy felt her face, her shoulders, and found her grandmother was cold.

  With a sob, Lucy realised her grandmother had died. She ran from the cottage to that of their good neighbour, Mistress Smith, and that kind woman immediately took charge. Forcing Lucy to sit by her own brightly blazing kitchen fire, she went to Mistress Dean's cottage to see for herself. Within a few minutes she was back.

  'You are right, child. Poor dear, she has gone. Her last days were made pleasant with you to care for her. Now here is some warm ale, drink it up.'