Witchstruck (30 page)

‘Be quiet,’ I managed feebly, then wondered why my lips felt so numb and my legs were shaky.

Alejandro gave me an assessing look, then pulled his priest’s thick robe over his head and handed it to me. ‘No, put it on,’ he insisted when I tried to protest. ‘I stole it from the local priest. Anyway, your need is greater than mine. You look half dead.’

‘That’s not funny. I nearly
was
dead.’

‘And whose fault is that?’ With a frown, he watched me hand back Will’s now very damp jacket and drag the priest’s robe down over my head instead. ‘Why did you ride away from me in the woods, Meg? You must have known Dent’s men would catch up with you.’

‘The horse bolted under me,’ I lied, avoiding his gaze, and knew he did not believe me. But it was the only answer I had for him.

His gaze searched my face, his voice terse. ‘I didn’t think you were going to make it.’

‘Not . . . your . . . fault,’ I managed, shivering so violently now that my teeth were chattering.

‘It was harder than I’d thought to find Juan. We had a daring rescue planned. It involved Will holding them off with his pistol and Juan setting fire to the Bull Inn as a distraction while I grabbed you. But in the end, we didn’t need to do anything.’

‘The princess’s letter,’ I reminded him in a mutter, telling myself not to behave like a fool over him.

Alejandro drew a deep breath. ‘The princess’s letter,’ he agreed, his look suddenly very grim. ‘Did Marcus Dent take it away from you when you were arrested?’

For a moment I could not remember. It seemed so long ago since we were in the woods together, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Marcus Dent and his men. Yet it could only be a few short hours. Then my head cleared and I saw in my mind’s eye the black stallion drinking from the stream, his wet muzzle and resentful glance. Then the fallen branch in the undergrowth, its hollow end now stuffed with mud and leaves . . . and something rather bulkier.

‘I hid it,’ I gasped, and grabbed at his arm. ‘It’s still in the woods.’

Alejandro led me to the cart and helped me up onto the seat beside a wildly grinning Juan. ‘We’d better hurry, then.’

TWENTY-ONE

Summons

RIDING IN THROUGH
the gates at Woodstock Lodge just after dusk, we found the place in uproar. Torches had been lit in the courtyards, candles burned in all the windows, and there was the sound of shouting from inside the house. Two guards stood at the gate, their expressions uncertain in the thickening dusk.

‘Who goes there?’ one of them demanded, lowering his pike as Alejandro tried to ride through.

‘Alejandro de Castillo,’ he replied in some surprise, and reined in his horse. ‘John, is that you? Let us pass, I’ve brought Meg Lytton back to the Lady Elizabeth. Her brother’s with us too, Will Lytton. I’m sure Sir Henry Bedingfield will not begrudge him a bed for a few nights, the man’s been badly hurt.’

‘I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t recognize you at first.’

Alejandro stared up at the brightly lit building. His eyes narrowed, and I saw his hands clench compulsively on the bridle. ‘What’s happened here? What’s to do?’

‘I shouldn’t really say . . .’

‘Come, man, I’m one of the Lady Elizabeth’s priests,’ Alejandro said persuasively. I had never heard him sound so warm, so approachable. Perhaps he was the one with the gift
after
all, I thought bitterly. ‘I was sent here by Queen Mary herself. What cannot be said to me?’

The guard glanced at me and Will on the cart behind Alejandro’s, then nodded reluctantly. ‘Very well, sir. The Lady Elizabeth has been summoned to court. An urgent letter arrived this afternoon, along with some of the Queen’s men. She is to leave at first light, under heavy guard.’

Suddenly I could not breathe. The Lady Elizabeth, ordered urgently to court? This could only mean one thing. Proof of her treason had at last been found and she was indeed to be questioned again, just as the princess had feared. I only hoped no word of her incriminating letter had reached the Queen during our absence.

Alejandro caught my eye and shook his head minutely. ‘Thank you, John,’ he told the guard, and nudged his horse forward through the gates. ‘I had best get Meg Lytton back to her duties as quickly as possible then. The Lady Elizabeth will be needing her.’

As Alejandro dismounted in the courtyard, I jumped down from the cart and ran to him. ‘Could they know of the letter? Do you still have it safe?’

He patted his cloak reassuringly. ‘Safe enough, and so it will remain until the Lady Elizabeth destroys it herself. Now hush, no more until we can be private. They may be listening.’

He insisted I went up to reassure the Lady Elizabeth while he helped my poor brother inside. Following them
into
the narrow hallway, I could see there was nothing I could do to help Will, and knowing how terrified Elizabeth must be at this latest blow, I gathered my somewhat soiled and torn skirts and ran up the stairs.

The guard outside Elizabeth’s door was a man I did not recognize. One of the newcomers from London, perhaps? I explained who I was and he shrugged, not seeming to take much notice of me.

I knocked, but there was no reply. Since the door was slightly ajar, I pushed it open and entered the princess’s candlelit bedchamber on tiptoe.

Elizabeth was on her knees by the window, hands clasped fervently together as though in prayer. She gasped at the sight of me and lurched to her feet. Blanche Parry, who had been packing the princess’s travelling chests, turned to see who had come in and cried out in shock.

‘Meg!’ The princess was pale, her dark eyes wide, her lips trembling. ‘We thought you were dead.’

‘I nearly was,’ I replied drily, and threw back the hood of my cloak.

Elizabeth stared at my shorn hair. ‘Your hair!’

‘The witchfinder Master Dent felt I was too vain. So he cut off my hair.’

‘Yes, we heard about the charges. Thomas Parry sent word from the Bull that you had been arrested and condemned to die this very afternoon.’ Elizabeth looked horrified. ‘How is it possible that you have escaped with your life?’

‘Master Dent withdrew the charges of witchcraft at the last minute,’ I told her loudly, for the benefit of the guard in the hallway. ‘He declared it a malicious accusation and allowed me to go free.’

I pushed the door shut and sank into a curtsey that almost killed me. My body was aching as though I had been kicked by a mule.

‘Lady Elizabeth,’ I began carefully, not sure if my whisper might be overheard by the new guard outside, ‘we have done that which you required us to do.’

Colour rushed back into the princess’s cheeks. ‘Get up,’ Elizabeth insisted, helping me to my feet. ‘Please get up. This is excellent news. It is what we have been praying for. I don’t know how to thank you.’

I looked at her, then at Blanche Parry, who had turned back to her packing with a smile.

‘I heard you had been summoned to court,’ I murmured. ‘Do you think . . .?’

Elizabeth laid a warning finger on my lips and shook her head. ‘My dear sister the Queen has kindly sent a small troop of guards to protect me on my return to court,’ she explained cautiously, again in case the guard was listening. ‘It seems the Queen desires to speak with me at once. I am glad you have returned. You can help Blanche to pack for me. Nothing must be left behind at Woodstock, for I . . . I do not think I will ever come back here again.’

I suddenly realized what she meant. The princess was
leaving
Oxfordshire for good. And that meant I must leave too.

‘I cannot go home,’ I whispered. ‘You cannot send me home, my lady. My father . . .’

‘I cannot afford to keep you at court,’ Elizabeth told me, and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Meg, truly I am.’

‘Then I will serve you unpaid.’

‘Meg, dearest, do not be foolish. How will you eat? And clothe yourself? Life at court is hard enough for a wealthy noble, let alone a penniless servant with a mistress in disgrace.’ She knitted her fingers together, her eyes suddenly tortured. Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Besides, I may not be at court for long. If I am found guilty of whatever accusation has been brought against me this time, my sister will have me removed to the Tower again. And thence . . .’ The Lady Elizabeth broke down and turned away to hide her tears.

‘She cannot do that,’ I said, not knowing how to comfort her.

But I very much feared Elizabeth was right, and this urgent summons to court was in truth a warrant for her arrest. Men had come to escort her back to London under armed guard, to face more questions at court. What else could that mean but another accusation of treason?

‘The people love you too much to allow any such unjust treatment, my lady,’ I said more firmly, and tried to cheer her up with a carefully worded message. ‘Alejandro has . . .
what
you lost, and will bring it back to you soon. You will see with your own eyes that no one can use that against you.’

She nodded, and dried her eyes with a white lace handkerchief. ‘Thank you.’

There was a quiet knock at her door. I opened it at Elizabeth’s command and felt a warm sense of relief when I saw Alejandro in the corridor.

‘Come in,’ I murmured, noting that the guard outside Elizabeth’s door was watching us suspiciously. ‘Her ladyship is expecting you.’

He slipped inside the room, and I closed the door behind him. Let the man listen if he would. I knew Alejandro’s natural caution too well. The guard would hear nothing he could use against Elizabeth.

Alejandro strode straight to the window and drew the shutters across it. Then he dropped to one knee before the princess and withdrew the letter from within his cloak, handing it to her without a word.

She took the letter with trembling hands, opened it and read it through to the end, her lips working. She gave a little gasp as she saw what had been added after her signature, and I saw her brows contract with sudden fury. The princess would have spoken then, but Alejandro cautioned her to silence with an abrupt gesture and pointed instead to the candle.

Elizabeth nodded, seemingly not offended by this impolite behaviour, and took the letter to the candle.
Holding
the edge in the flame, she waited for the parchment to be well alight, then cast it into the cold hearth.

We stood and watched the letter burn until there was nothing left but a pile of papery ashes.

‘Thank you,’ she said simply, and gestured Alejandro to rise.

He bowed. ‘It was my pleasure to serve you in this, my lady.’

‘Even against your mistress’s wishes?’ she asked in a whisper, her eyes lingering curiously on his face.

‘I am a Spaniard and I serve King Philip,’ he commented drily. ‘Not your royal sister.’

Elizabeth’s brows rose. ‘You think the King would approve of your actions here?’

Alejandro hesitated. ‘His Majesty is a man, my lady,’ he replied carefully, and his gaze flicked to my face and away. ‘He would understand that when a woman asks him for help, an honourable man must act as he sees fit – even if that involves breaking a few rules.’

Elizabeth glanced from him to me. A knowing look crept across her face. ‘I see,’ was all she said.

Blanche coughed behind her. ‘We leave at first light, my lady,’ she reminded Elizabeth, and scattered another handful of dried herbs into the chest to keep the clothes dry and sweet-smelling until they arrived at court. ‘And there is still much to be done.’

‘I will help you, my lady,’ I said at once, and took up a
petticoat
that needed to be folded. ‘Then I must go and pack my own things for the journey home.’

Alejandro frowned, and looked at Elizabeth, who bit her lip.

‘Oh, very well,’ the princess exclaimed, a little scarlet point burning in each cheek. ‘You can come with us to court, Meg. You have certainly earned my thanks and I would be churlish indeed to turn you away. But I do not know how I will be able to afford your board and lodging.’

‘Leave that business to me, my lady,’ Alejandro said mysteriously, and bowed low over her hand. ‘Now I too must go and prepare for our removal to court. Father Vasco’s health has improved these past few weeks. He should make the journey well enough.’

‘My brother!’ I had clean forgotten about Will. Now he would have to go home after all, for he was too weak to remain here alone.

‘Don’t fret,’ Alejandro told me. He had a twinkle in his eye. ‘Your brother can travel with Father Vasco as an additional guard against thieves and sturdy beggars. My master King Philip provides plentifully for our expenses, so there should be enough in my purse to cover the cost of his food and lodgings on the way. The roads are so dangerous these days, don’t you agree?’

When he had gone, Elizabeth turned to me with a teasing little smile.

‘Now, let me see. You were away two days and one night,’
the
princess murmured, and helped herself to a sweetmeat. There was mock disapproval in her tone. ‘So where did you sleep that night, I wonder? Not in the arms of the soon-to-be-ordained Alejandro de Castillo, I trust?’

‘No, of course not!’ I gasped, but felt myself blush deep scarlet, much to the two women’s amusement.

I folded one of the princess’s second-best gowns very roughly, then had to stop and refold it more carefully, trying to ignore Blanche’s sniggering laughter.

Alejandro was coming with us to court too, of course. I had forgotten that in my rush of fear for the Lady Elizabeth. But it did not matter if he came with us or not, I reminded myself sternly. In a few days’ time, I would be at court, and surrounded by dozens of young men who would not soon be priests and who knew nothing of the charges of witchcraft laid against me. Besides, my duty lay with the Lady Elizabeth, whatever dreadful trials she might face in the coming weeks and months. I would forget Alejandro de Castillo, and he would go back to Spain and take holy orders.

Later that night, while the princess slept, I sat cross-legged on the warm hearthstones with my charm-stone before me, and heated a tallow candle in the dying flames. Once the stinking tallow was warm and pliant enough, I fashioned a rough doll from it. Using the blackened tip of a half-burned stick, I drew Marcus Dent’s thin features on the wax doll as best I could, murmuring his name as I did so. The spell
would
have been stronger if I had possessed something that belonged to the witchfinder, but in the absence of some shred of clothing or hair from his head, I would have to make do with a crude representation of his body. The power of the charm-stone, which Dent had kept close for so many months, should do the rest.