The Rose Garden

‘Now, none of that,’ he told them, firm. ‘I’ve fed you once today already, and you’ve no call to complain.’

His steps were turning now towards my hiding-place. With nowhere left to go, I slid a little further down the wall and closed my eyes as though some sudden twist of childish logic would make me invisible if I could not see him.

‘Why so nervous?’

Two thudding heartbeats passed before I realised he’d been speaking, not to me, but to the grey horse in the stall beside my own. I heard Jack’s feet shift in the straw as he moved round till we were separated only by the thickness of the boards that made the wall.

He soothed the horse. ‘’Tis only myself, you great fool.’ But he said it with affection, in the tone men use for animals when no one else is watching. Then he changed his voice again and said, ‘My horse has turned fair skittish.’

I had not heard Daniel enter, but he answered from the doorway, ‘Has he, now?’

His deep voice, calm and quiet, filled me with relief, but I stayed motionless against my wall and breathed in tiny, shallow breaths I hoped could not be heard.

Jack gave his horse’s neck a pat and said, ‘Perhaps he takes objection to the company he has been forced to keep of late. I cannot say I blame him.’

‘Do you speak of Mr Wilson, or his horse?’

‘Both. Though were I forced to choose the company of one above the other, I admit the horse did irritate me less.’

There was a creaking of the floor as Daniel crossed it. ‘I would not have known,’ he told his brother drily, ‘from the civil way you did behave while Wilson was our guest.’

‘I have no time to play at politics. I do but give a man as much civility as he deserves.’

‘He carried his credentials from our kinsman.’

‘Then our kinsman must be wanting in his judgement, if he puts his trust in Mr Wilson.’ Jack turned and his shoulder shook the wall between us. ‘Christ, can you not see it for yourself? Or has your dalliance with Fergal’s sister blunted all your better sense?’

There was a pause, then Daniel said, more calmly still, ‘Be careful, Jack.’

But Jack did not back down. ‘She is not Ann, you know that? Dress her how you will, she is not Ann.’

‘I’m well aware of who she is.’ It was the quiet, careful voice that I’d last heard when he’d been speaking in the kitchen after learning that I’d had to face the constable alone. The voice that seemed to warn those few who knew him that his mood was growing dangerous.

He would have known that I was somewhere in the stables, which was likely why he cut the conversation short by telling Jack, ‘And it is none of your affair.’

I couldn’t see the look that passed between the two men, but I felt the tension of it all the same.

‘All right,’ said Jack. ‘I’ll say no more of that. And it may be that you are in the right as well about your Mr Wilson, but you will forgive me if I test that point myself.’

He started saddling the horse, his silence stubborn until Daniel finally asked him in more normal tones, ‘Where do you mean to ride?’

‘To St Non’s. Wilson left his travelling companion at the inn there. I’d be interested to know how he amused himself, and whom he might have met. I’ve no doubt the information could be had at little cost. Do you object?’ He dropped that last phrase like a gauntlet.

‘No.’

They said no more. The horse was saddled and led out, and Daniel stepped aside to let Jack do it, and silence settled once more over all the stalls.

He said my name, then. ‘Eva.’

‘Here.’ I straightened stiffly from the wooden wall, and waited while he came to me.

His face showed no emotion when he saw where I’d been standing, but he would have known that I’d heard every word that Jack had said about me, and his own replies. And since I didn’t want him thinking that I cared, I forced a smile and said, ‘Should I come back another time?’

It smoothed the awkward moment over, and his smile, though slow in coming, warmed his eyes.

Fergal wasn’t in a mood for smiling. Slamming down the plate and cup that he’d just carried downstairs to the kitchen where we sat, he wheeled on Daniel. ‘’Tis hardly something you can laugh about. Have you not thought what she might have faced had she appeared like that in front of Wilson or your brother, or the constable? You’ve seen the way it happens, when she comes and goes. You’ve seen it, Danny. So have I, and I’ll admit it made me fear the devil’s hand, and me a man of reason.’

Daniel told him in an even voice, ‘You know it is not witchcraft.’

‘Ay, I know it. And you know it. But another man might not. You’ve seen a witch trial, have you?’

Daniel didn’t answer. Fergal looked away.

‘Well, I have. And it is not a sight I’d wish to see again, nor yet the evil that the mindless mob does afterwards, the way they kill the wretched—’

‘She is safe with us,’ said Daniel, though his interruption seemed as much a warning to his friend to hold his tongue as it did an attempt to reassure me. From his face I knew he’d thought about the danger, too, before this, and if he had not entirely dismissed it he felt sure it could be managed.

‘Is she, now?’ asked Fergal, challenging. ‘And how can you be sure?’

‘Do you now doubt me?’ Daniel’s tone grew faintly frustrated. ‘Christ, any man who saw you so belligerent would think she was your sister.’