The Enchantress (Book 1 of The Enchantress Saga) (51 page)
Read The Enchantress (Book 1 of The Enchantress Saga) Online
Authors: Nicola Thorne
‘It is no good, Analee. He has eyes only for you.’
‘Now listen,’ Analee said practically. ‘I have done all I can; there is still something
you
can do.’
‘I? What can I do?’
‘Well the only thing left is a gypsy spell ... oh I know I have denied magical powers; but some things are passed down in gypsy lore and I have known them since I was a little girl, they came from my grandmother, who was foreign. Whether they work or not depends often on the intention of the one who wants to win the man’s love. You
must
believe it. Well, Stewart was successful was he not?’
‘Yes, but you said ...’
‘Maybe I was wrong? Maybe it was the spell? We can only try. Now listen, this is what I want you to do. It is simple and you must repeat it after me. Will you do it?’
‘I will do anything to win Brent’s love.’
Analee squeezed Mary’s hand and leaned forward.
‘Now when you have your woman’s time I want you to take some of the blood and add it to the powdered pips of apples and pears, quinces and berries, and fruits you have in your sister’s garden or wherever you are. These you must previously have burnt and ground to a powder. This you add to the little phial of blood you have procured and then you get some pieces of Brent’s hair or, if you can, parings from his nails and add these to the mixture which you must then put in his food. Oh do not wince ... It sounds unpleasant but ‘tis tasteless if the food is well flavoured. You can add this mixture to his food up to three times, after that ...’
Analee got up.
‘I have told Brent I am with child by my lord and want nothing more to do with him. We are building our own life together, we and our children, which Angus urgently desires. He is of the government, bound for important duties in the army, at Court perhaps. Our lives must sunder, Mary. But I will always have a place for you in my heart. I hope you escape to happiness, and wish you and your family well. Now I am going ...’
‘But it is dark ...’
‘No matter. McNeath will drive carefully and we shall lodge at the first hostelry we come to. When Brent finds I am gone you will see he will soon realize how lucky he is to find such a wife as yourself. And you
will
be happy Mary. I know it. You have remembered the spell? Say it again.’
Mary nodded and repeated it until Analee was happy. Her eyes were on Analee – the enchantress, the witch.
Moments later she heard the rattle of the coach, the barking of dogs.
The Marchioness of Falconer was returning to her lord, to the great mansion of Falcon’s Keep in the heart of the Cheviot Hills. The Cheviots marked the end of the Pennine Range so that Analee had in some senses finished her journey. The past was behind her. Like the Allonbys, the Delamains, the defeated Jacobites and their fugitive Prince, she, Analee the gypsy, was beginning life again.
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