Chapter Nine
Lyle says nothing as we depart Ballentrae Moor, not a single word, but his expression has chapters written across it. I choose not to elaborate, instead looking out of the window at the scenery I know so well.
I hadn't expected her to have accrued a gentleman friend. I don't know what I expected. Her soul in torment again? An empty village after she had more thoroughly avenged her mentor? My thoughts had been too full of myself and how I had left her to consider what might have occurred in the meantime.
"You did not wish to stay?" Lyle eventually says. "Do you think Miss Ives will be safe?"
"Miss Ives is a tough cookie," I say. "She has the ability to look after herself for a couple more days." But I doubt the words as soon as I say them. Hecate Poole would know soon, if not already, that I was back in the country and Miss Ives would almost certainly be a target for her, to succeed where her mother had failed. Ela had spoken of the witch one night when she had been casting the runes, warning me of things to come, preparing me for others. It was then she'd cast light on why I had become the thing I was, less of a punishment than I'd understood. More of a calling.
"I thought you might have wanted to stay for other reasons," Lyle says, looking out of the window, avoiding my eyes.
"Other reasons like what?" I say, challenging. My patience is wearing thin, not because of Lyle, he just happens to be here which isn't entirely fair.
Lyle sighs. "Your agitation during the journey here, at it not being fast enough for you plus your demeanour when you saw Miss Ives with the country gentleman – who I must say was very dashing – gave you away somewhat. There's no hiding how close you became earlier in the year, Mr Chandler. Anyone with a working pair of eyes could see that you were both attracted to each other, although it is not considered proper for anyone in society to point it out."
"I should've stayed. I could've stayed. But…" I had returned, thinking I was meant to be her protector. The wolf of God. There to keep her safe. I had needed to go to America to find that out, but now I was back I wasn't sure I was required.
"You did what you needed to Mr Chandler. And isn't that all any of us can ever do?"
"To some degree. I guess I thought there might be a different reception waiting for me."
Lyle looks back out of the window. "Give it time, Mr Chandler. But then that's what my mother used to say to my father about me finding a wife."
"But you did. You are married."
"And we have the certificate to prove it. Now tell me about your adventures in America."
It is late by the time we return, Lyle insisting we stop for dinner at an inn he knew of, run by an acquaintance of his who was just as flamboyant. Lyle leaves me at Sir Malcolm's, returning to his home and his kind of wife and I rattle round in the house with out Sembene, without Vanessa.
It is later still when I hear the door creak open and I sit up, bolt upright before pulling on trousers and running downstairs. At first I fear Hecate or worse, but instead a woman with skin like black velvet stands in the doorway, holding a small bag. Her eyes blaze with fire and her shoulders are relaxed and proud.
"Hello," I say. She doesn't care to look at my chest or arms or assess and danger. She merely steps through the doorway, looking into my eyes and smiles, bows slightly.
"Hello Ba'cho."
