ESME
At the coven house, the great mother waits with one small bag, and the entire coven at her back.
William steps down to assist Prudence, but the coven witches begin weaving a protection spell, murmuring in low tones and circling the carriage.
As he looks from me to the ten women circling the conveyance, William's eyes are wide.
Prudence looks in. "This is a fine carriage. I don't think I've been in one as nice in all my life, and that's a considerable time."
I hold in my amusement. It wouldn't do to laugh. "It is quite fine, Great Mother."
Despite his astonishment at the coven’s behavior, William uses great care to help Prudence. "Madam, if you would like to ride forward, I'm happy to ride backward."
"How kind. I would prefer to see what is ahead." Prudence settles into a forward-facing seat. She pats the space next to her. "Come and sit by me, Esme. You will enjoy the ride far better, and Sir William will keep your new friend company."
Giving William an apologetic smile, I do as I'm asked and moved to the bench next to Prudence.
With a soft smile, William tells me it's all right, then returns to watching the witches cast. "How long does this take, Miss Ware," he asks Sara Beth. "Should I continue with my polite attempt at standing amongst women, or shall I abandon my post?"
Sara Beth's lips twitch, and she almost smiles before stopping at the carriage door. "Are you capable of such an abandonment, Sir William?"
He cocks his head and laughs. "To be honest, I have no notion. I have never attempted such a feat."
Sara Beth blushes slightly.
For the first time in my life, jealousy jolts me, but I push it aside as stupidity. William is not mine, and even if he were, such emotions are a waste of energy. A man as good as William would never stray.
Blush gone as if it had never been, Sara Beth says, "We are finishing the protection spell, and you can be on your way in a moment." She rejoins the coven as they make one more turn around the vehicle.
Each witch stops at the door and bids Prudence good travels before Sara Beth leans in. "Your counsel will be missed here, Great Mother. I will send a bird if we are in need. I beg you to take care of yourself and come back to us."
Prudence pats Esme's knee. "Esme will see me cared for, Sara Beth. I will return. We too shall send word should we have need. You are ready to fly on your own. Have no doubt."
The idea that the strong and overt Sara Beth doubts her abilities has never crossed my mind. Seeing worry in her eyes makes me like her more. We still have many years of doubt to overcome, but at least at this moment, I can see her humanity. It makes me worry less about her trying to harm me, or worse, William.
Sara Beth makes a curtsy. "I will do as I believe you would, Great Mother."
"Seek your own counsel and that of your sister witches. You will do well, as your heart is just." Prudence's thin lips pull up in a warm smile.
Sara Beth turns and goes inside the coven house.
Henry rounds the back to ride on the boot.
William climbs up, and Samuel stows the step before helping Anne to the driver’s seat. He joins her there and coaxes the horses forward.
Prudence asks, "When did you take on a familiar, Esme?"
A loud meow sounds from the green bag next to William.
"Simon found me a few days ago, and no one has come to claim him. He has a good face and a fine instinct for trouble, I think." The sweet kitten has been good company since staking a claim to my home and shop. It will be interesting to see how he likes a country setting.
William tugs the tie at the top of the bag and pulls it open.
With a mighty meow, Simon pushes his black and white head through the gap. Intelligence shining in his green eyes, he gives us each a look before he settles his gaze on Prudence.
"Oh, I see." Prudence reaches across and lets the kitten sniff her hand. "He's a fine young cat. He'll serve you well for many years."
Simon purrs and rubs his head on Prudence's wizened fingers. He pulls himself completely out of the bag and leaps across to William’s lap, where he curls up and purrs so loudly, he can be heard over the rumble of wheels as we make our way out of Windsor.
Once we are out of the city, the ride is pleasant. Sun streams down, warming the world. With six people, a kitten, and luggage, we are moving at a leisurely pace. A soft breeze brings scents of summer grass and flowers.
"This is quite nice. I've rarely left Windsor,” I say, casting my gaze around. “When my father was alive, we would sometimes take rides out to the park to picnic. Mother never wished to go after his death. I once visited a small farm near Eton to help heal a boy. It had this nice earthy scent. My small herb garden cannot compare to the scent of earth in the wild."
"You may like the cottage, my dear." Prudence gazes out the window. "It is full of the elements."
"Maybe I will." The idea of practicing magic in an environment outside my kitchen is thrilling.
William clears his throat. "Esme, I would like to tell Madam Bishop of my experience this morning, if you have no objections."
My heart pounds. When he came to me without his body, I was surprised at first. It takes a special connection or incredible power to travel with one's mind. "If you wish it, you should do as you deem right."
Attention no longer on the scenery outside, Prudence watches William.
Simon yawns then jumps across the carriage to sit in my lap. It's as if he knows I'm uneasy about sharing something that could indicate an intimacy between us. Though it might also mean that William is far more powerful than will be comfortable for the coven's liking.
After a hesitation and another clearing of his throat, William tells of how he left his body and traveled to my home with only the thought of me.
Prudence frowns.
"I shouldn't have told you?" He lowers his gaze to his hands fidgeting in his lap.
"You should, my child. Of course, you should. I only worry that whatever such a gift means may leave us all heartbroken." Prudence brushes a wisp of hair back from her wrinkled forehead. "I have only been able to bring my mind out of my body to seek out one person, and he was not to be mine. It brought both of us misery. I do not wish that for you or Esme. If you can port yourself at will, the skill is considered dark and doesn't bode well."
"Is a skill dark?" William runs his hands through his hair. "In war, skills and deeds were never deemed evil if they were used and done with noble intent. If a man is capable of destroying another, but he chooses to use his abilities to help rather than harm, is the ability still evil?"
At that, Prudence laughs. "I am schooled, and rightfully so. You are right, Sir William. You might use any skill for good. The character of the man or woman makes all the difference."
"Why is this particular skill thought to be evil?" he asks
Her breath rattles a little when she lets it out. "Because the witches who have used those skills have done so with malice. To gather information to destroy witches of the light and take their power." Shaking her head, she brightens. "It could also mean you and Esme O'Dwyer have a strong bond, and the need of each other will always bring you together."
Heat floods up my cheeks. I should have seen such a comment coming, but I was caught up in the darker scenario. "We only met two days before I brought him to you, Great Mother. I assure you there has been nothing between us to shame me."
William's laughter makes me blush even harder. "I think it is safe to say, Madam Bishop, that I am fond of Miss O'Dwyer, and her blush is by far the prettiest thing I have ever seen. However, she tells true."
Prudence shrugs and smiles. "I make no judgment, children. Even at your age, life is short, and good company is hard to come by."
The carriage slows, and the driver yells down, "There's a cart blocking the road, sir. We'll have to stop."
As soon as we stop, William opens the door and jumps out. "Let's see if we can help, Samuel. Henry, please stay here with the ladies."
Both men call out, “Yes, sir,” as if they'd never consider disagreeing with William.
Henry is a tall strong man and stands near the door, with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Are you his protector?" I ask.
Gray eyes that have seen too much turn toward me. It’s hard to mistake the pain and loyalty along with sorrow inside Henry. "We were soldiers together. Now, I'm his valet, miss."
It's difficult to look at so much pain. "But he trusts you, Anne, Samuel."
He nods. "Anne can cook and is a fine maid. Samuel is a good driver and excellent with all animals. I suppose I have certain skills."
"But loyalty is the skill your employer values most of all?" I can feel the way these two from different worlds have bonded in a friendship, despite the roles they each play.
Focusing down the road toward whatever is taking place to right the cart, Henry says, "Sir William is an employer worthy of a great deal of admiration and loyalty, to be sure."
Prudence shifts. "Young man, will you assist me down so I might stretch my legs?"
Henry offers his arm as a crutch for the elderly witch to climb down.
Unwilling to leave Prudence's side while on an unknown-to-me road, I secure Simon in his bag and follow her out. If anything should happen to the great mother while I am with her, the coven would be inconsolable. While I have no wish to join them, nor do I wish to be on their bad side.
My eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright summer day, and I stand at the side of the carriage for a moment. To the left is a rolling field of grain, and to the right, some deep-green woods. The road ahead is well trod, and already a posting vehicle is stopped behind us. Bags of feed have tumbled onto the road, and at least one has broken open.
A man in his fifties with thinning gray hair and a pot belly shakes his head at the wheel, which has come loose from the cart.
Samuel is dragging the remaining bags from the cart, while William examines the wheel.
With Henry at her side, Prudence strides forward. "What is it, Sir William?"
"His pin’s come out. Samuel says we have a spare or two, but we'll need the cart empty before we can lift it to the wheel. I'm just checking to make sure there isn't some other reason the pin came free." He points to where the cotter pin should have been.
"Samuel," Prudence's commands, "go and fetch the replacement pin. I think you've toiled enough with those sacks."
Pushing his brown curls from his eyes, Samuel looks from Prudence to William.
William rises from his knee and nods at Samuel, who rushes to our carriage. He looks at me as soon as Samuel dashes toward our carriage.
The cart driver is shaking his head. "I don't think even your strong back can lift this with ten sacks left in, Sir William. War hero or not, it's too heavy."
"We're going to give it a try, just the same, Mr. Moore. The road is backing up with traffic, and we wouldn't want it to get ugly with the post just behind us." William shrugs.
Samuel darted back, holding up the pin.
"Mr. Moore, is it?" I say, turning the cart driver away from what is bound to be better for him not to see. "I am Esme O'Dwyer. Sir William is conveying my grandmother and me to our home. I'm so glad we met you and had the chance to stretch our legs. I do hate long drives. Where were you heading today before this unfortunate accident?"
He points down the road at nothing. "Have to get this grain to Sorrel's farm. He's going to dock my pay for being late." Mr. Moore's face reddens, and he shakes his head.
I place my hand on his arm and send him a soft infusion of calm. Behind Mr. Moore, Samuel is lifting the cart with no strain at all, William is placing the wheel on the axle, and Prudence is pointing as if she's directing them. What none of them can detect is the shimmer of gold swirling from Prudence’s hands as her magic lifts the cart and all its content from the road.
Mr. Moore calms, and his skin returns to a healthier color. "I suppose it will be all right."
"Of course, it will. Look, they've nearly fixed it." I ease Mr. Moore around to see the cart resting on the wheel.
William pushes the pin into place and secures the end. "We'll help you reload, Mr. Moore."
I rush over to Prudence and take her arm so that Henry can help with the sacks. "Are you alright, Great Mother?"
Prudence pats my hand. "Just fine. I'm not so old I can't lift a cart for a few minutes. In fact, while my body has weakened over the years, my magic has only grown. An odd twist of fate. Perhaps we can go back to the carriage, child. They'll be done here in a moment or two, and your little cat will be none too happy to be trapped in that bag."
On the driver's seat, Anne is gaping.
I give her a smile and hope she will grow used to magic. Time will tell.
Inside, Simon is on the floor, with his head and one paw already out of the bag. He looks up when I open the door and gives an unhappy cry. "I don't want you to get lost in the middle of nowhere. Forgive me?"
Once I help Prudence to her seat, I climb up and loosen the top of the bag.
Simon fights his way out before I've completed the task, hisses at me, then curls in a ball in my lap and purrs.
At least he is as forgiving as he is quick to anger.
I pet his head and scratch under his chin until the carriage rocks with Samuel climbing up.
William gets in. "That was rather handy, madam. Thank you."
The carriage rocks again as Henry takes his seat in the boot. A moment later, we're moving again.
Prudence smiles, showing crooked yellowed teeth. At her age, it is a miracle she has teeth at all. "It was nothing. I needed to stretch my muscles a bit. Sara Beth hardly ever lets me cast."
"Whyever not?" I ask.
With a sigh, Prudence closes her eyes. "She fears it will exhaust me."
William leans forward and speaks urgently. "And has it?"
She waves off his worry. "Not at all. I'm nearly one hundred and fifty years old, my boy. Living is far more exhausting than magic."
Eyes wide, he looks at me.
I shrug. I knew she had to be at least that old. She was an old woman when my mother was a girl. Mother told stories about the formidable Prudence Bishop and how she'd outlived all her contemporaries.
"When she was a girl," Prudence says, "I thought her the most beautiful witch I'd ever seen."
"Who, Great Mother?" I ask.
"Was it not your mother you were just thinking about? Your thoughts were so loud, Sir William probably heard them, too." She looks across at him, but when he appears bewildered, she shrugs. "Or perhaps not."
"I was thinking of her and of you," I admit.
"You have her look. Soft hair and green eyes that would turn a bad man good, and a good man bad, the other witches used to say. Of course, your father was a good man and a witch in his own right. He might have changed the coven for the better, but Betty Ware was dead set against men in the coven." Prudence shakes her head, and a sad smile pulls at her mouth. "Betty wasn't wrong about much, but I think she made a mistake where your parents were concerned. Your mother was formidable and loyal to a fault. We needed her. Betty needed her."
"Were they friends?" My mother never mentioned Betty Ware in any way that would indicate a liking for the woman. She snapped with anger whenever the coven was mentioned, and after a while, Father never broached the subject.
She looks at me with passion in those blue eyes. "Oh, yes. The closest of friends during their childhood."
"What happened to separate them? Was it father?" My chest aches with the idea that Mother lost her coven and her best friend.
Prudence gives a long sigh. "In a way, it was. Connor O'Dwyer was very handsome and charming. When Louisa Shepherd met him, she fell in love, and so did he. Her family was against the match, as she came from money, while he had none. Even with witches, it's thought best to stay with one’s own rank." She frowns. "Determined to have Connor, Louisa went back to Ireland with him, and they married. When she learned she was with child, they returned to England. I think she hoped to be welcomed back. It was a naive hope. By then, Betty had come to lead the coven, and she was angry with her old friend for abandoning England. Many had died in battles during the years your mother was in Ireland. Betty blamed Louisa for those deaths. It was a bit harsh, but Betty was headstrong. She refused to allow a man into the coven, and your mother refused to rejoin her sisters without him."
"Did Betty believe my father would turn to the dark?" I want to cry, but hold it in. My mother had been selfish, but if she had not, I wouldn't be here.
"I don't think she did. It was more that your mother had left, and she was angry and hurt. Your father was known to be a good man. He might have added to the coven. When you were still a small child, perhaps three, the coven was attacked by a dark witch. He killed three witches and dumped their bodies at the door to the coven house."
I gasp. "I never heard this."
Prudence pats my knee, and Simon reaches out a paw to touch her hand. "You are not in the coven and have missed much of its history. Betty was too proud. Rather than ask your parents for help, she devised to burn the dark witch herself. Her heart was true, but her power wasn't up to the task. When she performed the spell, she set herself and part of the coven house ablaze and nearly died. She was never the same after that. She had no power and remained sickly until she died last spring."
Sitting forward to hear every word, William asked, "What happened to the dark witch? Who defeated him?"
"He is not defeated, my boy. He lives." A weary breath pushes from Prudence as she watches out the window. We pass through a village.
"Why didn't he destroy the coven?" I ask, despite my worry that this story is taking its toll on Prudence.
Turning, she locks her sharp blue gaze with mine. "The coven survives because your mother and father came, and cast the dark witch away. They didn't have the power to destroy him, but they hurt him, and for twenty years now, he has not returned."
Confusion and anger wash over me. "And even after that, the coven wouldn't let my father in?"
"I had hoped the tragedy, along with the risk your parents took on behalf of the coven, would have brought the O'Dwyers home. It was my most passionate wish. But too much time and bad feelings had come between them all. I begged your mother to petition for reentry, but she wouldn't. I beseeched the sickly Betty to extend an invitation and bring them home, but she was like steel. So, they never found peace in their friendship or their witchcraft, and both suffered."
The carriage falls silent for a long moment.
William says, "That is a very sad story. Is the daughter as unwavering as the mother?"
I can't tell if he's asking Prudence about Sara Beth, or if he's asking me if I would rather die than bend.
Prudence shrugs, then saves me from having to reply. "Time will tell."