Free Witchrise by Victoria Lamb

the house
.’
    He was staring. ‘Go on.’
    ‘I saw my brother—’ I began, then stopped myself. I had been going to say ‘crying’ but it seemed unjust to betray William’s privacy, for if he had known anyone was watching, he would never have wept. And over Alice too, the Lady Elizabeth’s maid. I had not realized his feelings for the girl ran so deep, though I remembered now they had grown close during the autumn we passed at Hatfield.
    ‘Reading a book,’ I finished lamely.
    Richard’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Reading a book? How very exciting.’ He clearly did not believe me.
    ‘Listen, I was there,’ I insisted, ‘in my father’s house. I saw my brother reading a book, and stood as near to him as you are to me, and he never saw me. It was no dream, nor was it a memory. It was a true seeing.’
    For a long moment Richard looked at me without speaking, seeming to consider that possibility. Then he took up the grimoire and studied it, running his finger across my mother’s spell.
    ‘If what you say is true, this spell could . . .’ Richard hesitated. ‘It would be a powerful work of magick indeed.’
    I held out my hand. ‘Help me up, please.’
    He did not argue this time, but stood and took my hand. His grip was strong, reassuring. ‘Lean on me.’
    ‘I thank you.’ My legs were still trembling from the power of the spell, and the heavy folds of my gown were always a hindrance, so I did not consider it a weakness to ask for his help. ‘Now you can kneel where I was, and try my mother’s spell for yourself.’
    ‘What?’
    I almost smiled at his stunned expression. ‘Why so surprised? You will not need to “believe” if you can see for yourself that the spell works.’
    Richard shook his head. He handed me back the manuscript, this time taking more care not to damage the fragile binding. ‘Forgive me, but I cannot. I do not have your skill as a witch.’
    ‘I have seen you use magick.’
    ‘Nothing akin to this.’
    ‘Oh, come!’
    He folded his arms, looking at me grimly. ‘I am serious, Meg. Catherine Canley’s book is not for me. It is women’s magick. To be permitted to observe but not to speak. To see great works, but not influence them yourself. My art lies in quite another direction.’ He paused. ‘Besides, her spells may only work for you because you are her daughter.’
    That had not occurred to me. But it was possible.
    ‘Women’s magick,’ I muttered, and tucked the book under my arm, for I felt too tired to continue that day. It seemed that ‘far seeing’ was a physically exhausting spell, even though no actual movement was required on the part of the one travelling. ‘And what is a man’s magick, pray?’
    Richard grinned, knowing how much such jibes infuriated me. ‘Everything that is not for a woman to perform. Which is most things.’
    I resisted the urge to hit him with my mother’s book, for I knew he only spoke thus to tease me. ‘Come on, I’m eager to get back to the house and see William. If he tells me he was in his chamber all morning, reading a book, we will know it was a true vision.’
    ‘Which it was.’ Richard believed me
now
. ‘Wait, you’ll need this.’ He threw my cloak about my shoulders and took a long moment to fasten it against the cold.
    I studied him, amused by the look of concentration on his face. He must have cut his hair in recent days, for the dark unkempt curls that used to brush his shoulders had been shorn, his hair razored short up his neck. The forelock which always hung over his forehead like a pony’s was still in place though, giving him a vaguely dishevelled look, as though he had only just risen from his bed.
    Richard was an attractive young man, I mused. Then I could not believe I had just thought such a thing. But it was hard not to at least acknowledge it when he was standing so close.
    ‘Through if your brother was out on his horse this morning,’ Richard added cheerfully, unaware of my thoughts, ‘or helping