Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet 36 by Kelly Link Gavin J. Grant (editors)

Author:Kelly Link, Gavin J. Grant (editors) [Link, Kelly, & Grant, Gavin J. (editors)]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781618731395
Publisher: Small Beer Press
Published: 2017-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

Marguerite gasped, and began to cry again. “Hush, foolish child!” the witch hissed. “Hush and listen. I have lived with thee now nearly a year, and at first I thought thee merely a nuisance—yes, I admit it, I had and have no mother-love for thee. But I have watched thee these long months, and I have seen that thou art clever, despite having been taught nothing but cooking and useless makework, and intended for nothing but kitchen, childbed, and chapel. I have an offer for thee, and till I have done speaking thou shalt say nothing, but listen only, and consider carefully what is best. If thou sayest nay, I shall leave thee immediately and in the morning, thou shalt remember nothing of what I have said, and shalt soon leave thy father’s house a young bride. Understand?”

Marguerite blinked, and nodded. As her sight adjusted to the darkness, she saw Yseult more clearly. Her eyes were sparks of flame, and her face was hard and sharp, and Marguerite was frightened, but she bit her tongue and sat silently.

“Good,” said Yseult. “Now. I did not lie when I said the woman who took me in when I was an orphan was a healer and midwife. She was also a powerful cunning-woman, and she taught me all she knew of these arts, until she was burned in her home by folk from a nearby village who thought she had cursed their crops, while I hid in the woods, powerless to save her. So I have lost two families, seen two homes consumed by fire. When I met thy father, I thought at first to seduce him, then kill him by some subtle means and so become mistress of his house and fortune. When he mentioned thee, I considered killing thee as well, but found I could not stomach the murder of a girl-child, nor the making of another orphan, and so I waited for another idea to come to me. Now it has.

My cottage still stands, three long days’ walk from here. Weeds and vines have overtaken my garden, the sky above it has darkened with new branches, this year I have lived with thee, but two women working side by side could soon set things right. If thou comest with me, thou shalt have no more fine dresses, nor enamel combs for thy hair. Mushrooms and rabbit shall be thy meat, wild rice thy bread. The juice of berries crushed shall serve thee for wine, and shalt have no milk but what canst suckle from the sleeping farmer’s cow. No glass for thy windows, nor no leather for thy shoon. A hard life, with much work in it. Thy fine hands shall bleed and blister; thy soft skin shall burn and brown. But in exchange for thy years of work, I’ll teach thee all I know.”

Now the witch leaned in close, and whispered certain things I cannot tell: a charm to send a fat dove hopping to one’s hand; powerful

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