Page 32 of Witchbane

‘That is correct.’

He tilted his head back and groaned before looking at me once more. ‘Theo, I have shared my suspicion that the women who live there practise witchcraft.’

I was going to ask why he hadn’t arrested them as well, but decided against it, not wishing to cause anyone else to incur my father’s displeasure.

‘And what of this magickal mixture that stopped the heavy bleeding from the wound?’ he asked. ‘You don’t believe that to be mysterious?’

I had no idea and hadn’t missed his use of the word magick. ‘I believe it was herbs of some kind. You know as well as I do Mistress Underwood sells tinctures and the like in the market.’

He glared at me, as if wondering whether I still followed his opinion of witches or had become less fearful of them. I used his silence to try and explain why he shouldn’t be so harsh on Rue Underwood.

‘Father, Mistress Underwood clearly resents your part in her mother’s demise, and also my connection to you. She doesn’t trust us, and I can perfectly understand why.’

‘Theo—’

I interrupted him, determined to have my say. ‘No, Father. This must be said. Mistress Underwood had every reason to let Warrior gallop past her in that narrow lane. Instead, she risked severe injury stopping him.’ I still couldn’t understand exactly how she had done it. ‘She then calmed him and brought him to me. I was bewildered after hitting my head and was in no position to insist she help me. However, regardless of her feelings towards me or’—I gave him a pointed look—‘you, she did her best to stem the bleeding, dress my wound and see that I was capable of riding back home. Surely that should be enough to prove she is a decent woman, one with a conscience, rather than someone willing to do others harm?’

I waited for him to argue and was surprised when he did not.

‘Father?’

He gave a bored sigh. ‘No doubt she had her own motives for making the most of the occasion when it presented itself to her.’

I was wasting my time. Whatever was behind this persecution of Rue Underwood, there was probably far more to it than I was aware. My father was not a stupid man; he was cunning, cynical and rarely changed his opinion of someone once it had been formed. I could tell he wasn’t open to argument, and to reason with him further would only make him suspicious about my feelings towards Rue. I doubted he had failed to notice my concern for her when helping her sit. I recalled how I spoke gently to her and calmed her, and I was annoyed with myself. Why had I been so careless as to act in that way? I would have to be far more careful in my behaviour if I was to help prove Rue’s innocence.

I had seen for myself the way she had turned silent, her eyes filling with unshed tears, when he referred to her family history. I decided it wouldn’t seem odd to enquire further.

‘You’ve known Mistress Underwood’s family in the past, Father, but am I to understand that you had more to do with them than the late Lady Thistlebury’s arrest and execution?’

I saw a satisfied smile cross his face. I hated this side of my father and had to concentrate not to reveal my distaste.

‘You will recall your first time attending the execution of a witch?’

I remembered it only too well, having spent many years tormented by nightmares over the incident. Before I had a chance to confirm it, my father continued speaking.

‘It was almost ten years ago. Lady Thistlebury had been tried and found guilty of sorcery.’ He sighed happily. ‘I had no option but to carry out her execution.’

I shuddered at the memory, at the thought of Rue as a little girl having to witness such a dreadful scene.

‘The little girl—’ I said, but was unable to continue as I saw her again, being held back by a man, her large turquoise eyes red from sobbing as she pleaded for mercy for her mother. The hatred as she looked from my father to me was something I had never forgotten. I recalled Rue looking sideways at me earlier, her unspoken accusation clear.

I felt sick. I might not have known who she was at the festival, but she quickly discovered my identity that day. I now knew why she hated me so readily, I thought miserably. I would feel the same way about her if things were reversed. Poor Rue. To witness something that horrific being done to a stranger had been enough to turn my stomach, so how deeply must her mother’s death have scarred her? And now I was adding to the years of pain she had been forced to endure.

If only I hadn’t gone to the festival and danced with her, held her in my arms, laughed with her. The carefree sound of her laughter had a musical quality. She had seemed so full of life, her spirit free as she embraced the dancing. And now I had tracked her down and brought her in front of my father, who seemed only too happy to replay her dark history. The second in her family to be accused by him of sorcery.

I would have loved to be able to reminisce with her the few moments of joy we had experienced that one time, but I now saw she would never believe there wasn’t at least a part of me that was like my father.

I closed my eyes and thought of her almost passing out in his office. No wonder she had been fearful. I thought of her trying to make her way home to what was left of her family, thanks to my father’s actions all those years ago. I knew I needed to go after her.

‘If only her father would reappear,’ my father said thoughtfully. I wasn’t sure if he was speaking to himself or to me.

‘Why?’ I asked intrigued. ‘What difference would that make?’

He stared at me for a moment, a strange look in his dark eyes. ‘I might not be as interested in the girl if the father would come and respond to questions I wish to have answered.’ I went to speak, but he narrowed his eyes. ‘Or maybe I want to see how he has fared these past years. Whether he’s still the proud man who showed off his beautiful wife before her practice of witchcraft brought shame on his good name.’

‘You wish to taunt him?’ I asked, shocked.

He waved for me to go. ‘I do not. Anyway, that is of no matter. The chances of him being found after a decade are slim at best.’