The Devil's Mistress by David Barclay (summer reads txt) 📗

“Oh dear.” Sloop covered his mouth with a gloved hand. “Poor John. I see Father Time has caught up to you, old friend.”

“What are you on about?” Sands demanded. “We got a murder on our hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at him. Does that look natural to you?”

“I don’t know,” Sloop admitted. “Where is Doctor Moberrey?”

“We don’t need him. The man was poisoned.”

Sloop’s cheeks bloomed red, his grief turning to anger. “For heaven’s sake, man. What makes you say that?”

“I saw something last night.” Sands’s pitiless dark eyes turned to Isabella. “She put something in his drink. I saw the vial on her. Been consorting with witches, she has. Got all manner of fowl brews and potions.”

Isabella let out a short bark of laughter. She wanted to ask the man if he was insane. Then she saw every servant in the kitchen had turned to her, their eyes wide with mistrust.

“Look at her on her knees, there,” Sands said. “Praying to some unholy beast, most like. Dress all torn up. Been in the woods again, she has.”

“You bastard,” Jacob yelled. The boy had felt the sting of the man’s whip on more than one occasion, but there was clearly no fear in him now. “Perhaps it was you who poisoned her father.”

“Easy to say from one such as you, isn’t it? You’ve been under her spell for months.”

“This is a serious accusation, Master Sands,” Sloop said. “You understand the penalty for lying to the council?”

The man looked indignant. “‘Course I do.”

“Are you mad? There are no such thing as witches,” Jacob yelled.

“Then why have you been taking her to the wood?” Sands said. “And what’s that potion she’s been using?”

Sloop cut both of them off with the wave of his hand. “Enough. We shall settle this at once. You there, go and search Lady Ashford’s quarters for any sign of treachery,” he said, turning to one of the watchmen. Then, to Isabella, “As for you, dear. I’m dreadfully sorry, but if you will consent to a quick search, we can put this business behind us.”

It took Isabella a moment to find her voice. “No. No, of course not. This is my house! This man works for me!”

“We will settle all of this,” Sloop said, amicably enough. “Let us just please have a look.”

A pair of hands gripped her from behind and pulled her to her feet. The other watchman, a burly fellow near her father’s age, was holding her fast.

“Get your hands off her,” Jacob said.

Sloop pretended as though he hadn’t heard. “My apologies, lady, but this is just a precaution to put the man’s mind at ease.” He ran his hands over her abdomen, his knobbly fingers lingering in all the wrong places. He was smiling when a hand stopped at the side of her breast. “What is that?”

Isabella’s mouth opened, but she could not find the words. A cold and inescapable dread had seized her.

Sloop looked at the watchman. “Retrieve that.”

The man reached into her top, probing her crevices until he found the vial. He held it up for all to see. The crowd gasped.

“The Devil’s work!” someone cried.

“Told you, she’s a witch,” Sands yelled.

What happened next happened very fast.

Chapter 13

Jacob swung his fist, connecting with Sands’s jaw in a deafening crunch. “Run, Elly!”

For a beat she stood paralyzed, watching the world erupt around her in a sudden, frenzied rush. The master of the house fell to the ground. The servants stumbled and shouted. Then the burly watchman reached for his pistol with a thunderous shout. “Out of the way!”

The spell broke. Isabella pushed through the crowd and went rushing toward the side yard.

“Seize her,” Sloop called. “Get her before she runs!”

Isabella was already running, slipping out through the door and into the open air. Her mind was a wasp’s nest of confusion and anger. She had no idea where to go or what to do.

Lily whined at her from across the yard. The sound awakened something in her—a distant plan, not quite formed—and she ran to the horse. The watchman was five paces behind and might have caught her were it not for a random puddle just beyond the chicken coop. One of his feet stuck in the mud, and he went toppling to the earth.

Isabella held up her hands, trying to calm the mare as she approached. She untied the rope and leaped into the saddle.

The watchman recovered and came huffing down the path. Sloop and Mister Sands had also come from the house, but they were even farther behind.

Isabella spurred the mare. “Go! Hurry! Into the woods!”

The watchman reached for the saddle but tripped a second time and went down again.

Isabella looked over her shoulder. The man was getting up, but it was too late. Lily was galloping toward the tree line, and the house was disappearing behind her.

When they were sufficiently out of sight, Isabella tugged on the reins and brought the horse to a slow trot. Her heart was beating so fast, she could hardly think. Ahead lay the familiar fork in the path, only this time, she needed to make a practical decision instead of a metaphorical one. In one direction lay the town of Blackfriar, along with everything she had ever known: the people of the town, the mill, her friends, her neighbors. In the other, only darkness. Silence. The vast expanse of the Virginia wood, stretching north through Nanticoke Indian territory up into Delaware.

She couldn’t go to the town. Even if the townsfolk hadn’t heard the accusation, it would only be a matter of time before rumor and suspicion spread. On the other hand, she knew nothing about the wilderness, nor how to survive the wood. Then, she realized she wouldn’t have to survive on her own. There was someone else she knew. Someone who had much to answer for.

Isabella put her head down and kicked Lily into a gallop.

It was getting on dark by the time she