Free Face Down under the Wych Elm by Kathy Lynn Emerson

Kent and up the Thames to London. She'd stop at Maidstone on her return voyage, he said, to add on a cargo of that bulky local commodity, fuller's earth.
    "Cheaper to move freight by water,” Master Garrard proclaimed. He became expansive on this dull subject, telling his captive audience ‘twas a penny a mile by water when the cost ranged from fourpence to twelvepence a mile over land. Even sailing the long way around the coast, he insisted, produced a great savings.
    Bored by such talk, Jennet was glad when she had an excuse to escape.
    On her return from the privy at the far side of the kitchen yard she found herself moving more and more slowly, reluctant to go back inside. Just as she paused to look up at the stars, a man stepped out of the shadows, startling her by grabbing her arm and causing her to drop the candle she carried.
    "Unhand me, sirrah!” Jennet opened her mouth to scream but closed it again when he made a shushing sound. More intrigued than frightened, she held her peace.
    "Hear me out, I beg of you.” He spoke in a whisper.
    "Why should I?” Her heart beat at a furious rate. At last, something interesting was happening.
    "Because you are curious?"
    He had her there. “Well, fellow? What have you to say?"
    She squinted, trying to discern his features. By the faint beams of the lantern hung by the door she could see that the stranger was tall, a head higher than most men she knew, and beanpole thin, even scrawnier than Master Garrard. By the feel of them, large, strong hands were appended to those sticklike arms.
    "I know who your mistress is and why she came here and where she means to go on the morrow.” For all the cockiness of this whispered speech, he stumbled a bit over the words.Nervous? Fascinated out of any remaining apprehension, Jennet made no further attempt to free herself. “Everyone in this household knows as much by now."
    "Warn her off. Do not let her go to the witch's cottage."
    "Why should I take your advice? Who are you?"
    He glanced from side to side, as if to make sure they were not observed. His grip tightened on her arm. “The cottage is located near the Street of Demons."
    Jennet sucked in a breath. “How did it come by such a name?"
    "How do you think? The entire area is a lonely and remote place well known to be the haunt of ghosts, smugglers, and witches."
    "Who are you?” Jennet demanded again. “What do you know of witches?"
    "I mean to know everything."
    For some reason, that statement alarmed Jennet more than anything else her captor had said. She pulled, freeing herself from his grasp with surprising ease, and retreated a few steps. When there was a little distance between them, she spoke. “If Constance Crane was not afraid to visit her cousin, there can be no real danger."
    "Constance Crane is also a witch.” The words exploded in quick bursts. Then he muttered something else that Jennet could not catch.
    "What did you say?"
    "Evil haunts this region,” the stranger repeated.
    "Who are you?” she asked for the third time. The longer she was alone with him, the more he began to unnerve her, and yet she was resolved to learn more of his purpose.
    "There are witches everywhere,” he said.
    "Why should I believe you when I do not know who you are?” Jennet was appalled to hear a quiver in her voice.
    The man seemed to consider her question. The silence lengthened between them and she shivered, although the night was warm. The notion that this fellow might himself be a witch ... or worse ... made her heart speed up and her breath catch.
    When a door opened nearby, they both jumped.
    Hands pressed to her lips, Jennet spun toward the sound. It was Lionel, on his way to the privy. The knowledge that he would hear her if she cried out gave her renewed courage. She turned back to her companion, meaning to insist he answer. If he did not, she'd order Lady Appleton's henchman to apprehend him.
    But there was no longer anyone behind her. The stranger had vanished into