Page 20 of Magic Touch
"Is a skill dark?" William runs his hands through his hair. "In war, skills and deeds were never deemed evil if they were used and done with noble intent. If a man is capable of destroying another, but he chooses to use his abilities to help rather than harm, is the ability still evil?"
At that, Prudence laughs. "I am schooled, and rightfully so. You are right, Sir William. You might use any skill for good. The character of the man or woman makes all the difference."
"Why is this particular skill thought to be evil?" he asks
Her breath rattles a little when she lets it out. "Because the witches who have used those skills have done so with malice. To gather information to destroy witches of the light and take their power." Shaking her head, she brightens. "It could also mean you and Esme O'Dwyer have a strong bond, and the need of each other will always bring you together."
Heat floods up my cheeks. I should have seen such a comment coming, but I was caught up in the darker scenario. "We only met two days before I brought him to you, Great Mother. I assure you there has been nothing between us to shame me."
William's laughter makes me blush even harder. "I think it is safe to say, Madam Bishop, that I am fond of Miss O'Dwyer, and her blush is by far the prettiest thing I have ever seen. However, she tells true."
Prudence shrugs and smiles. "I make no judgment, children. Even at your age, life is short, and good company is hard to come by."
The carriage slows, and the driver yells down, "There's a cart blocking the road, sir. We'll have to stop."
As soon as we stop, William opens the door and jumps out. "Let's see if we can help, Samuel. Henry, please stay here with the ladies."
Both men call out, “Yes, sir,” as if they'd never consider disagreeing with William.
Henry is a tall strong man and stands near the door, with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Are you his protector?" I ask.
Gray eyes that have seen too much turn toward me. It’s hard to mistake the pain and loyalty along with sorrow inside Henry. "We were soldiers together. Now, I'm his valet, miss."
It's difficult to look at so much pain. "But he trusts you, Anne, Samuel."
He nods. "Anne can cook and is a fine maid. Samuel is a good driver and excellent with all animals. I suppose I have certain skills."
"But loyalty is the skill your employer values most of all?" I can feel the way these two from different worlds have bonded in a friendship, despite the roles they each play.
Focusing down the road toward whatever is taking place to right the cart, Henry says, "Sir William is an employer worthy of a great deal of admiration and loyalty, to be sure."
Prudence shifts. "Young man, will you assist me down so I might stretch my legs?"
Henry offers his arm as a crutch for the elderly witch to climb down.
Unwilling to leave Prudence's side while on an unknown-to-me road, I secure Simon in his bag and follow her out. If anything should happen to the great mother while I am with her, the coven would be inconsolable. While I have no wish to join them, nor do I wish to be on their bad side.
My eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright summer day, and I stand at the side of the carriage for a moment. To the left is a rolling field of grain, and to the right, some deep-green woods. The road ahead is well trod, and already a posting vehicle is stopped behind us. Bags of feed have tumbled onto the road, and at least one has broken open.
A man in his fifties with thinning gray hair and a pot belly shakes his head at the wheel, which has come loose from the cart.
Samuel is dragging the remaining bags from the cart, while William examines the wheel.
With Henry at her side, Prudence strides forward. "What is it, Sir William?"
"His pin’s come out. Samuel says we have a spare or two, but we'll need the cart empty before we can lift it to the wheel. I'm just checking to make sure there isn't some other reason the pin came free." He points to where the cotter pin should have been.
"Samuel," Prudence's commands, "go and fetch the replacement pin. I think you've toiled enough with those sacks."
Pushing his brown curls from his eyes, Samuel looks from Prudence to William.
William rises from his knee and nods at Samuel, who rushes to our carriage. He looks at me as soon as Samuel dashes toward our carriage.
The cart driver is shaking his head. "I don't think even your strong back can lift this with ten sacks left in, Sir William. War hero or not, it's too heavy."
"We're going to give it a try, just the same, Mr. Moore. The road is backing up with traffic, and we wouldn't want it to get ugly with the post just behind us." William shrugs.
