Charms of a Witch

by Marina Oliver

  Exhausted with her emotion and her endeavours, Lucy went to bed and slept deeply, not waking the following morning until the sun was high in the sky.

  She rose, dressed, and broke her fast, and had just been on a tour of inspection, wondering what she had best do first, when Jem appeared at the door. He looked at the roof, and then back at Lucy.

  'I regret I was unable to prevent this,' he said to her. 'They take care not to tell me their intentions, knowing I favour you.'

  'They are mad,' Lucy answered in a low voice. 'You could not stop them, Jem.'

  'I can if you agree to wed me, then you would be under my roof. I could protect you all the time. My servants could protect you.'

  'Mayhap you are right,' Lucy said wearily, and Jem looked up, a gleam of hope in his eyes.

  'Then you will marry me?' he exclaimed.

  'No, Jem, I did not mean that. I do not think 'twould make any difference. They hate me so much it would but bring you into danger too. You cannot fight the whole village.'

  He laughed shortly. 'There is nought they can do to me. I can look after that.'

  'No, Jem!' Lucy's voice broke, but he scarcely noticed.

  She was sitting on a stool, and he strode across the kitchen to stand glowering down at her. 'I have reached the end of my patience, Lucy. You will marry me, and there will be no more delay!'

  She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised.

  'I have been too patient with you. My mother intends to denounce you to the magistrates as a witch. Until now I have prevented her. I have persuaded her to be content with her own devices against witchcraft. I shall do this no longer if you do not agree to wed me. I will give you until tomorrow. Tomorrow do you hear me?' he shouted. 'I will come at this time. Think well on it, Lucy Dean, and do not expect Sir Humphrey to interfere this time as he did for your mother!'

  Lucy looked at him, her attention caught. 'What do you mean?'

  'Did you not know?'Jem asked scornfully. 'When your mother was charged as a witch, Sir Humphrey twisted the law somehow so that she was acquitted. That should prove to you that my father is not yours. Your mother went to live with Sir Humphrey after that. 'Twas said that he had lusted for her before, and that was why he protected her from the law. He is your father, I have no doubt, but he is not like to interfere again. He has shown no interest in you, and 'twould be too dangerous for him at this time. Well, until tomorrow.'

  *

  Before Lucy could ask any more questions about her mother, he left the cottage, and she sat for a long time pondering his visit. She wondered how Sir Humphrey had obtained her mother's release, then she began to consider her own situation.

  'I cannot marry him,' she whispered to herself, in sudden fear. 'I must leave, I must get away from here.'

  She set to thinking about how this could be done. Apart from Jem's threats there was little point in remaining at Brookley, where the hostility against her was so fierce. Even if she could bring herself to marry Jem, she would not be happy here. Lucy determined to go to London, where in a large city she could hope to lose herself. She was certain she could obtain a positiom either as a governess or a sewing maid. Her education had given her good qualifications for both.

  Once her mind was made up she lost no more time. She quickly sorted through her clothes and packed the most useful into a bundle. She concealed the hoard of gold coins which was her grandmother's savings in the middle of the bundle. She then packed some food in clean napkins.

  She thought it probable she could reach Chelmsford that night, for on the main road she might be able to beg a lift from some carter. In any event she would endeavour to be out of Jem's reach, and once in Chelmsford she could easily travel to London.

  These preparations took very little time. Lucy decided not to say farewell to Mistress Smith, for this might prove a means whereby Jem could trace her. She had not yet had time to write her letter to Sir Humphrey, but decided it would be better to write when she reached London, and could give an address where he might contact her if he wished.

  With a last look round the cottage, Lucy fastened her cloak about her shoulders, picked up her bundle and set off, walking away from the village along the deserted road to Chelmsford. But the road had not been as deserted as she thought. Two children had been playing nearby, and had hidden behind some bushes when they had espied her.

  'It's the witch,' one of them whispered excitedly.

  'Be she leaving?' the other asked.

  'It looks like it. We have driven her out!'

  They watched as Lucy disappeared down the road then, whooping with glee, they ran back to the village to spread the good news. Eventually this news was imparted to Jem by one of the village women who passed him as he was working in his fields.

  'Your bird has flown, I see, Jem Perkins!' the woman said, satisfaction in her tone.

  'What do you mean?'

  'The little witch. She has gone.'

  'Gone? What do you mean? How do you know?'

  'She was seen some while back on the road to Chelmsford, carrying her bundle.'

  'Is this true?'

  'I would not be inventing lies,' the woman answered huffily, and walked on.

  Jem looked after her for a few moments, and then with a curse ran to the inn where he kept his horse. Swearing at the tardiness of the ostler, who had not immediately come to his call, Jem saddled his horse himself, and impatiently pushed the man aside as he began to slip on the bridle.

  'I'll do that. Be off.'

  The ostler, offended, retreated to the far end of the stables whistling defiantly, but Jem ignored him. He led the horse outside, swung into the saddle, and set off on the Chelmsford road. He rode for some time and was beginning to think the information was false. It was now raining and he was very wet. He wished he had spared the time to investigate at Lucy's cottage instead of riding furiously past it, but then he saw a small figure in the distance and smiled grimly. As he came nearer, his smile deepened. It was indeed Lucy.

  Certain of his quarry he eased the horse's pace, and Lucy was unaware of him until he was very close, then she looked round at the sound of the horse's hooves. She gave a puzzled gasp, seeing him.

  'Yes, my dear, did you think to escape me?' he said as he drew level with her and swung out of the saddle.

  'It is no use, Jem,' Lucy said wearily.

  'I am not flattered that you choose to run away from me,' Jem said curtly. 'I will make you pay for that.'

  'I am leaving Brookley, I have no wish to see it again.' Lucy turned away, and began to walk forward, but Jem caught her by the arm and swung her round.

  'Listen to me. I want you, and I intend to have you. Will you come back willingly, or must I take you by force?'

  Holding her firmly, he looped his horse's reins over a low branch, and was able to grasp both of Lucy's arms.

  'Jem, you are hurting me!'

  'This is nought,' he taunted her. 'I will hurt much more if you defy me.'

  Lucy began to struggle, Jem holding her easily with his great strength. Helpless in his grip, her hopes of escape dashed, Lucy began to plead, but it had no effect. With great ease Jem held her as she struggled and kicked. Silently he watched her, gloating with triumph, and he was so intent on this he did not hear the other horseman ride up to them.

  *

  The first thing he knew was when he felt a strong grip on his collar, pulling him away from Lucy.

  'Release the young lady,' a cool voice directed him, and Jem, surprised and almost choked, let her go and struggled to face this newcomer. It was Gavin Anstey, and he loosed his hold on Jem and surveyed him contemptuously.

  'I do not care to see young ladies treated so,' he remarked.

  'It's no business of yours, my fine fellow,' Jem said truculently, but Lucy, who had backed away from Jem as soon as he had been made to release her, sprang forward anxiously.

  'Oh, please sir, do not leave me!'

  'Be quiet!' Jem flung at her. 'It is nought but a lover's tiff,' h
e said, glaring at Gavin.

  'Do not believe him, sir,' Lucy cried. 'He is trying to force me to go back with him, and I do not wish to. He has plagued me so much to marry him, that I am forced to leave my home to escape him!'

  'Do not fear, Mistress.' Gavin smiled down at her, then he turned to Jem. 'The lady does not desire your presence. Pray take yourself somewhere else.'

  Jem began to bluster, but Gavin looked him firmly in the eye.

  'I am not used to repeating the orders I give,' he said quietly.

  Jem glanced at the pistol holster on the saddle, and the sword at Gavin's side.

  'You will regret this,' he snarled, and turning away, he snatched his horse's reins and vaulted onto its back. Brutally he pulled the animal round, and dug his heels into its flank, causing it to rear before setting off at a gallop along the road to Brookley.

  *

  Chapter 9

  Gavin smiled and dismounted. He hitched his horse to the same branch and looked across at Lucy.

  'I thank you sir. Believe me, I am deeply grateful,' she said, smiling at him, and Gavin's heart gave a lurch as he looked into her piquant face.

  'I was happy to be of assistance, Mistress,' he said, smiling down at her. 'How can I help you more? Let us move under the trees, they will give us some shelter from this rain.'

  Lucy smiled, and they moved to this inadequate shelter.

  'What you said, about being forced to leave home. Is it true?' he asked her.

  Lucy nodded, her eyes clouding. 'I left mainly because of Jem, but there were other things that would have driven me away in the end,' she said wistfully.

  'Tell me,' he said encouragingly.

  Lucy glanced up at him. She felt strangely drawn to this dark, handsome man, grateful for his rescue of her, warmed by his help and friendly tone, and desperate for someone to confide in after the long months of loneliness since her grandmother's death. Lucy found herself telling this stranger much of her story. Without mentioning her early life, she merely said she had recently come to live with her grandmother, but the old woman had died. She went on to tell him something of Jem's courtship, and her dislike of it, then, more hesitantly, she told about the suspicions of her that had swept through the village.

  'They said my mother was a witch,' she whispered, 'but she died at my birth, and I was brought up by strangers. They have tried to drive me out. They have used anti-witch devices, they have burned the thatch of my cottage, and – and – ' she paused, but conquered her emotion, 'they drowned my kitten. They called him my familiar!'

  Instinctively wanting to comfort her, Gavin slipped his arm round her shoulders, and Lucy looked up at him.

  'Was that the kitten I saw you rescue from the pond some weeks since?' he asked gently.

  The tears which threatened were held back by surprise as Lucy stared at him.

  'How did you know that?'

  'I was there. I had been in the smithy, while my horse was shod, but you did not see me,' he said, smiling at her. 'I rode out and was just about to intervene myself when you rushed in amongst them. I recognised you immediately today.'

  'How could they be so cruel to a poor defenceless animal?' Lucy asked tremulously.

  'The world is a cruel place for people as well as animals,' Gavin replied. 'But let us look forwards, not backwards. What do you intend doing now?'

  'I shall go to London, and I hope to obtain a post as a governess, or if that is impossible, as a sewing maid.'

  Gavin considered her closely. 'Have you thought long on this?'

  'Why, no, 'twas only this morning. Jem threatened that if I would not marry him, he would allow his mother to denounce me as a witch.'

  'A delightful lover!' Gavin commented grimly. 'So this was a sudden decision on your part?'

  Lucy nodded. 'I did not see what else to do.'

  Gavin remained silent for a while. 'I think perhaps I can help you,' he suggested hesitantly .'Would you permit it?'

  Lucy looked at him, puzzled. 'I do not understand, sir?'

  'Methinks you should consider this very carefully. Your cottage? You say the thatch was burned, is it habitable?'

  'The parlour is, but not upstairs.'

  'What say you to returning there for a while? I will not leave you unprotected there, but this is not fit weather to stay in the open. We can consider what to do, and if you wish to leave, I will escort you.'

  'I hate the thought of returning to Brookley,' Lucy said slowly.

  'I cannot protect you unless you do. You will be safe enough with me, I promise.'

  Lucy considered. 'Very well, sir,' she said at last, deciding she trusted this man.

  'Good. Can you ride pillion?'

  Lucy nodded.

  'Then let us start.'

  'I thank you. I am much in your debt.'

  'Nonsense. 'Tis I that have benefited by this encounter, simply by meeting you.'

  Lucy blushed, and looked away quickly. Gavin smiled.

  'Come, we have lingered long enough.'

  *

  Lucy smiled enchantingly at him, and his heart did another breath-stopping lurch. He tied Lucy's bundle to the saddle, and mounting, leant down to pick Lucy up with ease and place her behind him.

  'Hold me tightly round the waist,' he said, and Lucy, seeing there were none of the usual straps pillion passengers could hang on to, had to put her arms round his waist. She was heartily thankful that he could not see her face, for she was blushing furiously at the close contact, and she hoped his cloak was thick enough to prevent the thumping of her heart being obvious to him.

  Gavin, also disturbed by her nearness, spoke little as they rode back to Brookley. When they reached the cottage, Lucy slipped hastily from the horse's back before Gavin could help her, and led the way into the kitchen. Gavin surveyed the ruined thatch with anger as he followed.

  'Have you food?' he asked.

  'Yes, there is plenty.'

  'Then let us dry our cloaks and eat while we talk.'

  He made up the fire while Lucy prepared food, and then they sat down at the kitchen table.

  'I have not yet asked your name, to know whom I might thank,' Lucy said, laughing.

  'Nor I yours,' he said, smiling at her. 'Somehow it did not seem important. I am Gavin Anstey.'

  Lucy stared.'Gavin Anstey! Why, you will know Peter Francis?'

  'Yes.'

  'I am Lucy Dean. Peter may have spoken of me.'

  Gavin nodded, a smile on his lips. 'He has indeed,' he said.

  'How is he? I have not seen him for an age!'

  'He is well, revelling in army life.'

  'I am glad. He was so anxious to join the King.'

  'You were brought up by his parents, were you not?'

  'That is so,' Lucy agreed. 'But I have no claim on them.'

  'Then you came here to care for your grandmother, who was ill?'

  'Yes. You may think it odd but I did not know aught about my grandmother until a few months ago.' She told him how she had discovered who she was, and Gavin nodded.

  'Some little of this I have heard at the Manor. Not from Sir Humphrey, he never speaks of your mother, but from some of the older servants, who have mentioned her. Why did you not return to Mistress Francis when your grandmother died?'

  'When I first determined to come to my grandmother, she told me I could not go back.'

  'I see,' said Gavin slowly. 'She turned you out, in fact?'

  'Not so, I left of my own accord,' Lucy protested.

  'Mayhap, but you had no choice of returning. I see how 'twas. And Jem? His mother runs the Black Goat, does she not?'

  'Yes, but Jem is a farmer. He was kind to my grandmother long before I came here, but then he began to court me, and would not believe I did not wish for his attentions.'

  'So alone, and unprotected, you had to deal with him? And the rest of the villagers. This idea of witchcraft, where did it arise?'

  'I know nought for certain. I understand my mother was accused of witchcraft. J
em said Sir Humphrey managed to obtain her acquittal, but he would not tell me more, and no one else will.'

  'Why should the villagers turn on you?'

  'They say I have inherited the powers of my mother, and she were a witch. Some say I was sired by the devil. But methinks 'tis more than that. Jem's mother has been urging them on. She is jealous and resents Jem's attentions.'

  'It is odd, but not unknown for a mother to cling to her son.'

  'There is yet more. You see, Agnes was jealous of my mother because she thought her husband was in love with her, and could be my father.'

  Gavin's eyes narrowed suddenly. 'Jem knows this, and still persists in courting you?'

  'He maintains that on his deathbed his father swore it could not be true, but apart from other reasons for my not wishing to marry Jem, that would frighten me.'

  'But is not Sir Humphrey said to be your father?'

  *

  'It is suspected,' Lucy said slowly, 'but no one really knows. My mother became a maid at Anstey Manor, and died there when I was born. 'Tis through Sir Humphrey's generosity Mistress Francis took me to rear with her own family.'

  'Not much generosity on her part, I'll hazard,' Gavin said wryly. 'Sir Humphrey must have had some potent means of persuasion. Do you not think he is your father? Why else should he do that for you?'

  'I do not understand it,' Lucy confessed. 'I tried to see him, I wished so much to know the truth about my mother, of what she was accused, and how she escaped the punishment for witchcraft. I do not believe her to have been a witch,' she added hastily.

  'And what happened? You were turned away from the Manor without satisfaction?'

  Lucy nodded. 'Aye. The servant who answered the door said Sir Humphrey never saw anyone. Despite my pleading, he would not even tell him I was there. But he did suggest I wrote a letter. I intended to after I had reached London.'

  'You said you wished for a post as a governess, or sewing maid. Do you think you could maintain yourself so?'