Jeremy watched as Marjorie slowly rose to her feet, eager to leave now that she’d delivered her news. “Marjorie, I’d like to see my father and brother,” he said. “Please invite them to visit us next week. I’ll be up and around by then. And we can share our happy news.”
“Yes, my lord. I will see to it.”
Jeremy stared at the door long after Marjorie left, willing Alys to return. Giving her the pin had been improper and could make difficulties for her if his gift were found, but he had so desperately wanted to do something kind for her. How lovely the pin would look at her throat, but she’d need a fine cloak to offset its beauty. Jeremy smiled. That was it. He’d order her a new cloak; a dark blue or burgundy velvet would look fetching with her coloring. And he’d make sure it was fur-lined to keep out the winter chill.
Journal Entry
I have spent the past three days in ardent Prayer, begging the good Lord to forgive me for allowing the Devil into my Soul. It was for the briefest of moments, but I did wish that my Husband would succumb to his illness. I was horrified by the depravity of my thoughts and desperate to return to the Path of Righteousness through prayer and rigorous self-denial.
I nearly wept with relief when instead of punishment for my lapse, Our Savior saw fit to bless my womb. I am with child, a clear sign that I am forgiven. What utter Joy to be able to fulfill my duty as both Woman and Wife. My Husband has agreed to my request to abstain from marital relations until after the churching. Another unexpected blessing. The good Lord is rewarding me for my Piety and Devotion.
Chapter 37
Nicole
Having retraced my steps and transcribed the notes into a Word document, I was ready to continue with my research. I typed “Alice Bailey witch” into the search bar. Not many entries popped up, but significantly more than when I had searched using the version of the name I’d seen in the cellar. Perhaps her name hadn’t been Alys at all, I mused as I opened the first link, but I now thought of her as Alys, and Alys she would remain.
The link went to a post written by some blogger who fancied herself a modern-day witch and paid homage to the witches of the past. The article was devoted to the Pendle witches and the Lancashire witch trials. One of the witches was named Alice Gray, which would account for this post popping up in response to my query, but Alice Bailey was also mentioned as one of the women executed for witchcraft in the seventeenth century. There were other names, but no details of their cases.
Closing the post, I moved on to the next entry. It was another historical account of injustice in the seventeenth century and James I’s obsession with rooting out witchcraft. The author wrote:
The case of Alice Bailey clearly demonstrates the ease with which the ruling classes could use their wealth and influence to dispose of an individual who’d become a liability. Accused of witchcraft by Lady Lockwood, Alice Bailey was sentenced by a local magistrate, who just happened to be the elder brother of the lady’s husband. The sentence was carried out shortly after a hasty trial that was farcical even by the lax standards of the judicial system of the time. Alice Bailey, aged twenty at the time of her death, was another example of an innocent young woman destroyed by unsubstantiated accusations brought forth by a vengeful rival.
This was interesting for several reasons. Reverend Hargreaves seemed to believe that it might have been Lord Lockwood himself who’d passed the sentence, but according to this article, it had been his brother, who may have been acting in concert with Lady Lockwood. Alys Bailey had a child who’d vanished on the day of her execution. Might her child have been Lord Lockwood’s, and if so, had Alys’s only crime been to fall in love with the lord of the manor? Or had he forced himself on her, taking advantage of his position, secure in the knowledge that there’d be no consequences to his actions? It was impossible to know, but it would seem the whole family was in cahoots.
Having noted the relevant facts, I moved on to the next entry. This bit was from a book about Derbyshire hauntings. A good portion of the article was devoted to the building of the Ladybower Reservoir and the drowned villages, but there were two sentences mentioning Lockwood Hall and its resident ghost, who’d been seen by several credible individuals over the years and was credited with perpetrating all sorts of mischief. Maybe it was Alys herself who took my notebook, curious to see what I’d written about her, I thought with wry amusement. Although I was sure my ghost was very much alive and probably none other than Alastair Prentiss.
Lisa had been in the dining room when I came down and remained there for the duration, and despite what Angela had shared with me, I couldn’t see Paul Scanlon helping himself to my research. The theory just didn’t sit right with me, and how would he have entered my room without a key
