gentleman. I saw him when he left—but from a window.’
‘He will return when my parents are here,’ said Fennimore, ‘and then I expect he will stay for a few days.’
How I lived through that meal I did not know. Bastian must go home or I would break down. I could not bear to see him and Carlotta together. It was asking too much of me.
After supper the minstrels played soothing music from the gallery, and Thomas Jenson, who taught us music and had a beautiful voice, sang madrigals with us. Of course there was the inevitable one about the faithless lover, which did not help me.
As soon as I could I said I was tired and I would go to my room, but my sister had to come up with me and to tell me that I looked pale and strained and that I had been very wrong to ride out alone. Chiding me with this tender scolding was more than I could endure, and I begged her to leave me alone that I might close my eyes and try to sleep.
Sleep! As if I could sleep.
I lay there for half an hour when there was a knock on the door. I closed my eyes, thinking it was Angelet returning, but it was not. It was the maid Ginny with some posset Angelet had sent up for me.
I looked at Ginny. She was twenty-one, very wise. She had had a child when she was fourteen and kept him with her in one of the attics, because my mother said that it was not right that a mother should be parted from her child. There had been many lovers since for Ginny but no more children. ‘Foolish girl,’ said my mother. ‘She will find herself in trouble again one day.’ But I understood her. She wasn’t so much foolish as helpless.
‘Mistress Angelet said you was to take this, mistress,’ she said now. ‘Her said it ’ud make you sleep.’
‘Thank you, Ginny,’ I said.
She gave it to me. It was hot and soothing.
‘Wait a bit while I drink it.’
‘Yes, mistress.’
‘Have you ever talked to a witch, Ginny?’
‘Oh yes. I went to one when I had my trouble. It was too late, though … she could do nothing for me.’
‘That was Jenny Keys, wasn’t it? They hanged her in the lane.’
‘Yes, mistress, it were. There was naught wrong with Jenny Keys. She’d helped many a girl from her trouble and it was beautiful to see the way she could charm off your warts. She did good, she did. My granny used to say, “There be white and black witches, Ginny, and Jenny Keys be a white one.” ’
‘Some didn’t think so.’
‘No, there be some terrible people about. Jenny Keys could turn off a bad spell. Why, when my young brother had the whooping cough Jenny Keys cured him by tying a bag of spiders round his neck. I don’t reckon Jenny Keys ever laid a spell. Some of them do, though, and there’s always them as will tell against a woman who’s a witch. Tain’t safe, being a witch … black or white.’
‘What happened to Jenny Keys?’
‘There was people who hated her. They started to talk about her, build up against her, like. A cow died in calf … so did the calf, and the cowherd he were so mad he said he’d caught Jenny Keys ill-wishing it. Someone else said she’d gone along for a remedy and had seen Jenny Keys in her cottage with her black cat there at her feet and she was roasting a bullock’s heart stuffed with pins. She was saying:
“ ’Tis not this heart I wish to burn But Jack Perran’s heart I wish to turn Wishing him neither rest nor peace
Till he be dead and gone.”
And when Jack Perran died all sudden in his sleep—people started whispering. They started remembering other witches and how in the times of King James there’d been regular witch baiting. They reckoned a lot of them had been driven under ground at that time but now they was coming out again. They reckoned they ought to make an example of one. They talked … they remembered … they spied on Jenny Keys. Then came the day when they took her and hung her on a tree in Hangman’s Lane.’
‘If she was indeed a witch perhaps it was right.’
‘Perhaps it were,
‘He will return when my parents are here,’ said Fennimore, ‘and then I expect he will stay for a few days.’
How I lived through that meal I did not know. Bastian must go home or I would break down. I could not bear to see him and Carlotta together. It was asking too much of me.
After supper the minstrels played soothing music from the gallery, and Thomas Jenson, who taught us music and had a beautiful voice, sang madrigals with us. Of course there was the inevitable one about the faithless lover, which did not help me.
As soon as I could I said I was tired and I would go to my room, but my sister had to come up with me and to tell me that I looked pale and strained and that I had been very wrong to ride out alone. Chiding me with this tender scolding was more than I could endure, and I begged her to leave me alone that I might close my eyes and try to sleep.
Sleep! As if I could sleep.
I lay there for half an hour when there was a knock on the door. I closed my eyes, thinking it was Angelet returning, but it was not. It was the maid Ginny with some posset Angelet had sent up for me.
I looked at Ginny. She was twenty-one, very wise. She had had a child when she was fourteen and kept him with her in one of the attics, because my mother said that it was not right that a mother should be parted from her child. There had been many lovers since for Ginny but no more children. ‘Foolish girl,’ said my mother. ‘She will find herself in trouble again one day.’ But I understood her. She wasn’t so much foolish as helpless.
‘Mistress Angelet said you was to take this, mistress,’ she said now. ‘Her said it ’ud make you sleep.’
‘Thank you, Ginny,’ I said.
She gave it to me. It was hot and soothing.
‘Wait a bit while I drink it.’
‘Yes, mistress.’
‘Have you ever talked to a witch, Ginny?’
‘Oh yes. I went to one when I had my trouble. It was too late, though … she could do nothing for me.’
‘That was Jenny Keys, wasn’t it? They hanged her in the lane.’
‘Yes, mistress, it were. There was naught wrong with Jenny Keys. She’d helped many a girl from her trouble and it was beautiful to see the way she could charm off your warts. She did good, she did. My granny used to say, “There be white and black witches, Ginny, and Jenny Keys be a white one.” ’
‘Some didn’t think so.’
‘No, there be some terrible people about. Jenny Keys could turn off a bad spell. Why, when my young brother had the whooping cough Jenny Keys cured him by tying a bag of spiders round his neck. I don’t reckon Jenny Keys ever laid a spell. Some of them do, though, and there’s always them as will tell against a woman who’s a witch. Tain’t safe, being a witch … black or white.’
‘What happened to Jenny Keys?’
‘There was people who hated her. They started to talk about her, build up against her, like. A cow died in calf … so did the calf, and the cowherd he were so mad he said he’d caught Jenny Keys ill-wishing it. Someone else said she’d gone along for a remedy and had seen Jenny Keys in her cottage with her black cat there at her feet and she was roasting a bullock’s heart stuffed with pins. She was saying:
“ ’Tis not this heart I wish to burn But Jack Perran’s heart I wish to turn Wishing him neither rest nor peace
Till he be dead and gone.”
And when Jack Perran died all sudden in his sleep—people started whispering. They started remembering other witches and how in the times of King James there’d been regular witch baiting. They reckoned a lot of them had been driven under ground at that time but now they was coming out again. They reckoned they ought to make an example of one. They talked … they remembered … they spied on Jenny Keys. Then came the day when they took her and hung her on a tree in Hangman’s Lane.’
‘If she was indeed a witch perhaps it was right.’
‘Perhaps it were,
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