She looked at me and a sad look came into her eyes.

She shook her head slowly.

There was a great deal of talk about our new King and Queen. At the beginning of a new reign everyone was full of hope. They believed that the old evils would disappear and be replaced by blessings. The news we heard regarding our new King was mixed. He was said to be very clever and wise-and was known as the British Solomon; it was believed that the harsh laws against Catholics would be modified. After all, had not his mother been one of the greatest Catholics of them all? We had to learn what manner of King we had but when he came to England with his Queen there was a great revival of the scare of witches.

Although it had happened some thirteen years before when the King's Queen, Anne of Denmark, had come to England from her native land, the story was recalled.

She had been married by proxy to King James of Scotland (as he was then) and a great fleet had been prepared to take her to her husband. In September of the year 1589 she set out with the Earl Marshal and eleven ships to accompany her. As they neared the coast of Scotland such a storm arose that they could make no progress against it and were very soon in danger of drowning. There was nothing to be done but to allow themselves to be blown on to the coast of Norway. Oddly enough, although they waited there until the storms had abated, when they set out again, no sooner had they sighted the coast of Scotland than the storms arose once more and drove them back.

Peter Munch, the Danish admiral, had no doubt that the repet.i.tion of this disaster was due to witchcraft. He took Queen Anne back to Denmark and there began to cast about in his mind for anyone who might bear him a grudge. There were several people he suspected. As these were men and witchcraft was usually attributed to women, he arrested the wives of these men, put them to such torture that they broke down and confessed and they were then burned alive.

The party then set out once again for Scotland, and again no sooner had the coast of the Queen's new country been sighted than the storms blew up again and they were driven back to Norway. By this time winter had set in and the admiral dared not undertake the journey yet a fourth time.

Another incident occurred. Jane Kennedy, who had served Mary Queen of Scots with great devotion, married Sir Andrew Melville, another loyal supporter of the late Queen, and these two were greatly favoured by James. He immediately appointed Jane chief lady of the Queen's bedchamber in readiness for her arrival. The new Lady Melville made her way immediately to the palace, but in doing so she had to cross Leith Ferry. No sooner had she begun this brief journey than a storm arose and the boat in which she sailed was crushed by another and she drowned.

This was considered to be too much of a coincidence to be natural and witchcraft was again blamed. There was a hunt, in Scotland this time, which resulted in the torture and burning of old women. The King in due course had gone to fetch his bride and did succeed in bringing her to Scotland; but that period had become known as The Time of the Witches; and now that James had become King of England and travelled south with his bride, it was remembered that they had been the victims of witchcraft, and the interest in and persecution of witches was revived.

Although I was young at the time I was struck forcibly and with a kind of horror at the manner in which ugly rumour can arise, seek its victims and destroy them. In that year when our Queen died and we had a new King on the throne I saw my first witch. It was horrible, a poor old woman hanging grotesquely on a tree in a country lane. Senara and I were riding with Damask, her betrothed and his father when we came into a lane.

I stood and stared. At first I did not know what it was. Then I felt a horrible revulsion sweeping over me. I could not believe that poor revolting creature had ever really harmed anyone.

None of us spoke about it; we turned our horses and rode as quickly as we could away from that horrible sight.

Senara had a nightmare that night. She crept on to my pallet. We still shared a room with Damask. She was fast asleep.

"What is it?" I said.

"I dreamed of that witch, Tamsyn."

"It was horrible."

"Not just of her."

"What then?"

"I dreamed it was my mother."

"It was only a dream."

"I have heard the servants whispering about my mother."

"Servants always whisper about the families they serve."

"There is something strange about my mother."

"She is the most beautiful woman I ever saw."

"I've heard them say beauty like that comes from the Devil. I used to be proud of her but this afternoon ..."

"People will always be envious of those who have what they have not."

"It was so clear. We were riding ... just as we were this day and I felt myself forced to go and look at her ... and when I got close it was my mother."

"It could never be."

"But it could, Tamsyn."

"Nay, nay, she is much too clever ever to be caught ..." I was amazed by what I had said and added quickly, "Even if she were a witch. But how could your mother be that?"

Senara said: "She's your stepmother, Tamsyn."

"And my father's wife, so you see ..."

"It's just servants' talk. It is because she is so much more beautiful than anyone else."

We were silent for a while. Then Senara said: "Tamsyn, even if she were ... it wouldn't make any difference to us, would it? We'd still be as now."

"Nothing would ever make any difference to us," I promised her.

That seemed to satisfy her. But she was shaken and would not go back to her own pallet.

When I was fifteen there was a great scare throughout the country concerning Catholics. The new King had been on the throne for two years and to us far from the Court the new reign had brought little change in our daily life. There was perhaps one difference. We had always been conscious of the existence of witchcraft and at Hallowe'en a special atmosphere seemed to pervade the castle. Everyone would seem to be very much aware of my stepmother then. She knew this and I imagined she was secretly amused by it.

But I was not really thinking of what was happening in our castle but outside. More witches seemed to be discovered; there were constant rumours of old women being taken and put to the tests and having been examined, their bodies revealed certain marks which proved they had intercourse with the Devil and because of this acquired special powers for evil. Sometimes when riding we would come upon a group of shouting people. I always turned and went off as quickly as I could because I knew that somewhere in their midst would be a poor old woman; and I could not rid myself of the thought that she had only to be old, ugly, squint or have a humped back to be accused, and once named as a witch it was almost impossible to prove this untrue. The new King had a special abhorrence for witches and this sharpened everyone's interest in them.

When I watched my stepmother-and it was a pleasure always to watch her because she moved with a grace I never saw in any other person-I used to think how different she was from the old women who were suspected, tortured and killed.

But witchcraft was a subject which always made me uneasy which might have been due to the effect I knew it had on Senara. She could be really frightened by it. I would see the shadow pa.s.s across her face and then she would get out her lute and play a gay song and ask d.i.c.kon if we could practise some new dance. I knew her better than anyone else did and that her nature was-as it had always been-to thrust aside unpleasant things and behave as though they had never happened.

I thought afterwards how like the coming of a storm it was because there is so often a first faint rumble of thunder in the distance and you scarcely notice it. Perhaps you say: "Oh there is thunder about."

So at this time when I was fifteen years old, there was Witchcraft "about".

The Catholics seemed a greater menace and when a plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament was discovered, the whole country was agog.

I was allowed to sup in the great hall when there were guests coming, and because I was given this privilege so was Senara. We used to enjoy these occasions. We would listen avidly to the conversation and afterwards watch the dancers. d.i.c.kon was brought in to give displays which were always highly applauded and several times Senara had danced with him for the company. She loved these occasions for she yearned for admiration; she had to be continually a.s.sured that she was beautiful, attractive and desirable. I who was given to looking for a reason for everything, had convinced myself that she had become like this during the years when her mother had not been at the castle. But now of course, her mother was the Chatelaine and it was I who was often set aside for her. I didn't mind this; I saw that it was natural for a mother to love her own daughter more than a stepdaughter, and I often wondered whether I was a constant reminder of my mother.

I remember at this time how the conspiracy which was called the Gunpowder Plot was discussed.

When my father talked his voice boomed down the table and most people stopped their private conversations to listen. My stepmother sat beside him and on either side of them were the important guests. The servants no longer sat below the salt-that was an outmoded custom.

My father said: "Guy Fawkes talked when racked. He has betrayed the whole party of them and they will lose their heads for this."

Senara listened, eyes wide. It seemed that a William Catesby with his accomplices Sir Everard Digby and Francis Tresham were the leaders. They were joined by a relative of the great Percys of Northumberland and a soldier of fortune, Guy Fawkes. Tresham, whose brother-in-law was Lord Monteagle, wrote to Monteagle and warned him against going to the Houses of Parliament on a certain day. The letter was shown by Monteagle to Lord Cecil who had the vaults searched and there were found two hogsheads and barrels of gunpowder. This was at two in the morning. The man Guy Fawkes was discovered when he arrived to ignite the gunpowder. He was seized, and only after severe torture did he betray his accomplices. However, the Houses of Parliament were saved and throughout the country the people marvelled at the miraculous chance which had led to the discovery.

Everywhere throughout the country people discussed the Gunpowder Plot. It was something which must never be forgotten.

And so at our table the Catholic menace was discussed.

"We'll never have papists here," cried Squire Horgan, one of our neighbours, his face flushed with wine and fury. "Depend upon it."

My stepmother smiled in her strange mysterious way and I wondered whither she had come when the sea had thrown her up that night long ago before Senara was born. There was an aloofness about her as though she were despising these people at her board. She was, it was said, from Spain. She certainly had Spanish looks. My grandmother said there was no doubt of her origins and she would know because before she had married my grandfather she had been married to a Spaniard on the island of Teneriffe. Spaniards were Catholics, very staunch ones. But I suppose witches had an entirely different religion.

I pulled myself up sharply. I must not think of her as a witch. She never practised religion, I believe. She was never in the chapel, though Connell, Senara and I went regularly I rarely saw my father there either.

The Gunpowder Plot was to have its effect on our family. Very soon after that night when I had sat at table and listened to the talk about it, a messenger came to us from Lyon Court with very sad news. My grandfather had died. My grandmother wished Connell and me to go over to her for the burial.

My father raised no objection and when Senara heard that we were going she wanted to go too. I was always flattered and touched by her devotion to me. It really seemed as though she was unhappy without me, and as her mother seemed indifferent as to what she did, she was allowed to come.

How sad Lyon Court was without my grandfather! I knew it would never be the same again. He had been such a big man-I mean in more than size. Lyon Court was always different when he was there. He was constantly shouting about the place; often abusing either the servants or my grandmother or any member of the family. It all seemed so quiet and silent.

My grandmother looked old suddenly. She seemed to have shrunk. After all, she was sixty-five years of age.

Three deaths of people she loved most dearly-her mother, my mother and now my grandfather-had left her frail, bewildered, as though she were wondering what she was doing on the Earth without them.

I had an uneasy feeling that it would not be long before she followed them.

Connell was very upset because he had been my grandfather's favourite. The old man had loved boys; but of course his love of women had been one of the pillars of his nature. Perhaps I should say he had needed women. Young boys, members of his family, had pleased him as girls never could. His mistresses had been numerous; yet it was my grandmother whom he had loved. She had been so suited to him-so fiery, such a fighter, far more so than my mother had been or I could ever be.

She used to say that I took after her mother.

She took me into the chapel at Lyon Court where his coffin had been set up. Candles burned at either end of it.

She said: "I cannot believe that he has gone, Tamsyn. It seems so empty without him. There doesn't seem to be much meaning in anything any more."

Then she told me how he had died. "If there had been no Gunpowder Plot I am sure he would be with us today. His rages could be terrible. He never tried to control them. I was always warning him. I used to say, 'One day you'll drop down dead when you let your pa.s.sions get the better of you.' And that was what happened, after all.

"He heard of the plot. 'Papists!' he said. 'That's who it is. The Spaniards are behind this. We defeated them in fair battle and they'll come back by foul means. G.o.d d.a.m.n them all.'

"Then he fell down and that was the end. The Spaniards killed him in the end, you see, Tamsyn."

She found great comfort in talking to me about him. She told me how they had met, how she had hated him, how he had pursued her and of the adventures she had had before she finally married him.

"Somewhere in my heart, Tamsyn, I always knew that he was the one for me. Always, when I was far away from him, I remembered that he was there in my life. And now he is there no more."

I tried to comfort her. I told her I felt that my mother was not really gone. "I seem to feel her there close to me," I said. "When I am unhappy or frightened I call to her. Then I'm not afraid any more."

"May G.o.d bless you, little granddaughter," she said.

Fenn Landor came to be with us on the day of the burial. He had grown up and was different from the boy I had met before. He would soon be sixteen-and so should I. We were no longer children.

My grandfather was buried in the Pennlyon burial grounds. They were not as large as ours at Paling, for the Pennlyons had only been in the house for a few generations.

Connell, Senara, Fenn and I used to go out riding together and Fenn and I always seemed to find ourselves together. He liked that because he wanted to talk to me about the Trading Company of which he was now a member. He was going to take his father's place, he said. He still talked a great deal about his father.

"One of these days," he said, "I shall find out what happened to him."

I remembered his grandmother who thought he was at the bottom of the sea. We could talk together about our parents, both being in the same position, and we were very happy together.

Senara grumbled. "You and Fenn Landor are always going off together."

"Why should we not?"

"I think he's a bore."

"You may think what you please. That does not affect my opinion."

She stamped her foot. "If I were a witch," she said, "I'd put a spell on him."

"Don't dare say such things, Senara," I retorted angrily.

She looked a little frightened.

"I would though," she went on. Then she was soft and clinging. I never knew anyone to change moods more quickly than Senara. "Don't like him better than you like me, will you, Tamsyn?"

"As if I could."

But she set me wondering.

I did like Fenn. I liked him very much indeed and I hated saying goodbye to him when it was time to return to Castle Paling.

"We shall meet again soon," he said. "I will call at the castle and you must come and visit us."

When we went home Fenn rode with us. It was on the way to his home of Trystan Priory, he said.

My grandmother was a little dubious when she heard that he proposed accompanying us; then she lifted her shoulders. "Why not?" she said. "He will protect you from the dangers of the road."

Later when we were alone, just before I left, she said: "The two families have never met since the death of your father's first wife. It used to be rather awkward when your mother was alive. We saw so much of the Landors, being involved in business together, and Fenn's grandmother could not be induced to see anyone connected with your father."

"Why ever not?"

"Your father's first wife was her daughter."

"Her daughter. The one she said was ..."

She stopped me before I could finish. "She was hysterical with grief. She refused to see things as they really were. She wanted to blame someone for her daughter's death so she blamed the daughter's husband. What happened was that your father's first wife died in childbed."

"And she blamed my father for that?"

"She was of the opinion that her daughter was too frail to bear children and should never have been allowed to try to do so."

"That seems unreasonable of her."

"People are not always reasonable in their grief."

"And for that reason she would not meet my father!"

"That's true, Tamsyn."