Page 56 of Witchbane

‘I know,’ my grandmother said. ‘But we can’t do anything about that at this moment.’

They calmed at her reminder. I followed my grandmother and aunt downstairs feeling more fearful with every step. Could the Witchfinder be accompanying his father here?

I reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Pierre standing at the front door silently awaiting my grandmother’s wishes.

‘Wait until we’re in the withdrawing room, Pierre. Count to ten and then answer the door.’

‘Yes, mistress.’

The three of us rushed into the withdrawing room. This had always been a cold room, and we rarely used it these days, preferring the warmth of the kitchen. As I entered, I noticed a distinct odour of damp.

‘Maybe the kitchen would have been better?’ I suggested. ‘He’s been there before, so it wouldn’t seem odd for him to be invited in there.’

My grandmother scowled. ‘It’s too late now. If he was to see us hurrying from this room he might be suspicious. We don’t want him to see us flustered.’

She had a point.

‘Light those candles, Rue,’ my aunt instructed, going to the opposite side of the room and lighting the two candles in brass holders nearest her.

I did as she asked and had only just taken a seat and smoothed down my skirt when the door opened again and Pierre stood there, his eyes wide. He looked directly at me, then at my aunt. His gaze finally landed on my grandmother. He seemed at a loss for words.

‘What is it, Pierre?’ she asked urgently. ‘Something is wrong?’

Other than the Witchfinder’s son darkening our door yet again? I thought sarcastically.

‘Mistress.’ He cleared his throat and raised his chin slightly. I could tell Pierre was in a state. This wasn’t a man to show fear or shock, but something had thrown him and he was struggling to find words. ‘Mr Le Cerf is here with … with…’

‘Do spit it out, Pierre, for pity’s sake.’

He shrugged. ‘With Lord Thistlebury, mistress.’

None of us spoke. I wasn’t sure my heart was still beating. My father was here? ‘Are you sure it’s him, Pierre?’ I asked, recalling my mother’s warning and trying not to give in to the panic rising through me.

He nodded. ‘It is your father, Rue.’

Aunt Sorrel jumped to her feet and appeared to be about to leave the room, but before she could do so, my father appeared.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

THEO

Istood behind Lord Thistlebury studying the stunned women from over his shoulder. I knew by their ashen faces that none of them had ever expected to see him again. They hadn’t lied when they insisted they hadn’t heard from him in ten years. Obviously they had presumed him dead.

Rue stared at the man who had abandoned her and this home without warning. She frowned as she gazed at him, probably trying to familiarise herself with this older version of the father who had left her when she needed him most. I thought of his likeness hanging in the hallway. I had no idea when the portrait had been painted, but even so I was surprised how old he looked for his age. Even if he had been thirty when he married Martha Tredwell, he would only now be in his fifties. Then again, he had been through much in the past decade, and I knew only too well how people’s emotions showed on their faces. My own father had deep frown lines on his forehead from scowling, and lines either side of his mouth that was so often downturned in anger.

I couldn’t miss how the tension in the room increased as no one spoke. I waited for one of them to break the silence but Rue seemed to be transfixed by shock. I turned my gaze to her grandmother, who glared at her son-in-law with such hatred that I worried she might leap up and hit him.

But then, I thought, if she was able to do that, she would already have done so.

Her lips pursed. ‘How dare you come here?’ she said shaking her head slowly as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

‘Ophelia…’ Lord Thistlebury began. He took a step further into the room.

Ophelia pointed a gnarled finger at the door behind us. ‘Get out. Now! You have no right to walk into this house after all this time. You are not welcome here.’

He turned his attention to Rue’s aunt. ‘Sorrel, I mean no harm by coming here.’

If he had hoped for Sorrel Norman to soften towards him, he was mistaken. She gave him such a blistering look that I half expected him to vanish in a puff of smoke. She turned her back on him and stepped closer to her mother’s side in an unmistakable sign of unity.