The Devil's Slave. Tracy Borman
on the stones of the path as he strode to meet the stable boy. She felt the panic rise in her chest as she waited, straining for any echo of their conversation. But she could hear only the chattering of the birds as they flitted between the branches of the trees that bordered the estate.
She started at the slam of the front door. A moment later, her brother appeared, flushed and agitated. He closed the door behind him and guided Frances roughly to the far side of the room.
‘Did he find Ellen?’ she asked urgently. ‘Is she safe?’
‘She is in safe-keeping, that is certain.’ Edward snorted.
Her relief drained away as she looked at her brother, a muscle in his jaw pulsing.
‘The Reverend Pritchard has detained her on suspicion of witchcraft.’
‘No!’
The tincture. The priest had condemned such practices from the moment he had arrived in the parish, eager to win favour with his sovereign. Frances herself had come under his suspicious gaze on more than one occasion. Only her father’s intervention had saved her from any reprisals when she had last lived here. But her beloved Ellen had not been so fortunate. Frances chastised herself for placing her in such danger.
Edward was regarding her closely now. ‘She was tending some sick woman in the village. A potion was found on her person, though she tried to conceal it when the priest came to minister to the woman.’ His eyes bored into Frances’s and she forced herself not to look away. ‘I wonder that Ellen would have taken such a risk,’ he added.
‘He has no right to detain her against her will,’ Frances murmured, her teeth clenched.
‘He has every right!’ Edward shouted, then glanced quickly back towards the door. ‘He has every right,’ he repeated, more quietly this time. ‘The king has pronounced that witchcraft in all its forms is heresy, punishable by death, and has charged every priest in the kingdom to be vigilant. If they discover anyone practising such foul arts, they have full powers to arrest them and have them brought before the assizes.’
‘But Ellen is innocent,’ Frances urged. ‘It was I who made the potion. She was simply administering it on my behalf. You know full well that I would have tended the woman myself, had it been possible.’
Edward looked at her with a mixture of horror and disgust. ‘I suspected as much,’ he said, ‘though I hoped I was wrong. It seems you will stop at nothing to bring this family to ruin and disgrace, sister. Is it not enough that you will taint the house with your bastard? Now you would have us all branded for witchcraft.’
He had brought his face so close to hers that she felt his spittle on her cheek as he spoke. ‘You will tarry here no longer,’ he continued. ‘You will accept Sir Thomas’s proposal and go with him tomorrow.’
‘You cannot force me to leave Longford.’ Frances tried to keep her voice steady, though she felt sick with fear.
‘Even Father would not stop me if he knew what you had done,’ her brother retorted.
‘He would not wish me to leave Ellen to her fate,’ she countered, ‘particularly as it is clear you will not lift a finger to help her.’
‘If you intervene in this matter, it will be the surest means of condemning the woman to death,’ Edward declared. ‘Do you think I know nothing of your own arrest for witchcraft? Such news travels fast, even outside London. If Pritchard thinks to risk visiting you here at Longford and discovers the real source of your affliction, he will mark you as Ellen’s accomplice and have you both hanged.’
Frances’s heart was pounding as she tried to come to terms with the full horror of the situation. Though her brother’s words were born of malice, she knew he spoke the truth. The only way she could help Ellen was to make sure that the priest did not hear of her involvement.
‘That is, of course, unless the old woman has already betrayed you,’ Edward continued.
‘Ellen has sworn to tell no one I am here,’ Frances said. ‘I would trust her with my life.’
‘You may have to. Who knows what a woman will say under threat of torture?’
‘I know it well enough, brother,’ Frances hissed. ‘I have felt the torturer’s blade pierce my skin until the blood poured from my body. Yet still I would not confess to a crime of which I was innocent. I pray that God will give Ellen the same strength.’
Edward stared at his sister as if she was suddenly a stranger to him. ‘Once Ellen has been taken from the Reverend Pritchard’s custody, it will not be long before he comes to make enquiries here,’ he said slowly. ‘You must be gone by the time he arrives.’
Frances fell silent, considering. When at last she spoke, it was with greater resolve. ‘I will do as you wish, brother, but only upon this condition. You must go to Salisbury assizes to plead for Ellen yourself. As the head of the household, it is your duty to defend your staff. Father will think you unsuited to your position if he hears that you have neglected your responsibilities.’
Edward looked at her with resentment. He had always hated to be bested. ‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘I will perform my duty on Ellen’s behalf. But you will not set foot in this house again. After tomorrow, Longford will be as dead to you as the man who sired your bastard.’
Frances shivered and drew her cloak more tightly around her. A bitter east wind howled through the ramparts of the castle as she cowered against the thick stone wall of the postern gate. To her left, the motte dropped steeply away, and below she could see the dark waters of the swollen river glisten as they caught the moonlight.
She stole another glance over her shoulder. Nobody was there, yet she had the creeping sensation of being watched. She crouched closer to the wall, as if it could shield her from view. He had followed her to Thomas’s estate, she knew. She had spied him on the road from Oxford, the deep blue velvet of his cloak marking him out as Cecil’s man. Though she had not seen him for several weeks after her arrival at Tyringham Hall, she sensed that he was close by. Then, one bright autumn day when she had been walking in the woods that lay to the north of the Hall, her infant son cradled at her breast, she had caught the flash of gold as he slid silently behind one of the large chestnut trees that were scattered across the estate.
For a moment, she thought of running. It was madness to have come here. Even if Cecil’s man had not followed her, Thomas might discover the reason for her journey. She had seen the doubt in his eyes when she had told him of the relative who lay sick at Northampton, but he had not questioned her as to why she felt the need to visit someone of whom she had never previously spoken. He had, though, sent one of his servants to help her pack – seeking assurance, no doubt, that there were no herbs or tinctures among the few clothes and other belongings she chose to take with her. His interference had annoyed her, though he had done little else to deserve her censure.
As a husband, Thomas had been attentive, ensuring that she had everything for her ease and entertainment. His library, which was far more extensive than her father’s at Longford, had been at her disposal from the moment she had arrived at Tyringham Hall. It had been one of her greatest diversions, second only to her precious son for the comfort it had brought her. She had spent countless