Page 24 of Burying Venus

‘So you are quite keen to do away with the pair?’ Thorne asked.

‘Oh, you mustn’t think it just that,’ Robert said. His preference for Weston was clear, becoming increasingly patronising as he addressed Thorne. ‘How can my people go about casting spells? Why, due to their station, I think it only natural their curses would fall on me and my family. And what of my poor little brother, he would be quite incapable of defending himself. He is weak of mind, you see.’

Aubrey shifted and put the utensils soundly onto his plate. He had not touched the pie. ‘Please, do not…’ he whispered.

‘I feel the Lord brought me here for a purpose,’ Thorne said, ignoring Aubrey. ‘If I were to interrogate them and find either one to be a witch, there would of course have to be a trial. Now I myself am fairly well versed in the law.’ Weston made a noise of protest, but Thorne went on, ‘And then the matter of sending these evildoers where they belong. But I have no concerns about your family’s ability to initiate such a thing.’

‘Or, speaking more plainly, to pay us,’ Weston said. It was he who should’ve sat opposite Robert rather than Thorne, for it seemed he was all business acumen whereas the other thrummed with mysticism.

‘My dear man, you needn’t worry,’ Robert said. ‘Do you see where my family and I live? We are the lords of this place. I am aware of other investigations conducted by yourselves. It is not, I have observed, unusual to raise taxes on your behalf, and you will find preparations are well underway.’

That brought Dermot out of his stupor, beguiled as he was by Thorne. He glimpsed Robert from the corner of his eye but did not dare turn, lest his station be recalled amongst these well-bred men. Now his people were expected to pay for the torture and hanging of their own countrymen. He could scarcely believe it, most of them being unable to feed themselves or indebted to an employer or landowner, having not the money to spare fora wife. Lust destroyed, Dermot sat back and put a hand to his forehead, the warning pangs of a headache sounding.

‘Pardon?’ Thorne murmured, having now eaten a few pieces of beef. ‘I have asked for but twenty shillings.’

Keenly observing the pair after that declaration, Weston’s face was answer enough. With a crease between his brows and thin lips curling like a worm just trod on, he gave Robert a brief shake of the head. His partner’s hair, which to Dermot seemed soft as silk, happened to fall just so, allowing Weston to go unnoticed.

‘Just twenty shillings, indeed. You are most kind. But of course I must raise funds for the trial, the hangings, and further ventures,’ Robert said.

Thorne’s hands shook, fork clattering onto his plate as he watched Robert timidly. It was as if angels themselves specked gold into his eyes. Thorne could’ve made anyone believe in the occult, if only because he looked like a witch himself.

‘I…’ Thorne said, lips parting as if he were trying to resurrect Dermot’s cock. ‘I have not yet looked at them,’ he murmured, returning to his meal.

‘Pardon me,’ Weston said, ‘but are you quite well, Lord Stanley?’

Lord Stanley did not startle at being mentioned so abruptly. His attention did not wander further than the spittle in his mouth. ‘I do not know,’ he said.

‘Mercy,’ Weston said, with some of the sense one might expect from someone not under Maldred’s concoction. ‘Are you ill?’

‘I do not know,’ Lord Stanley repeated, eyes shifting around the dining room as if trying to recall his soul to him. He grumbled and ground his teeth, no food left in his mouth to chew.

‘My father has been extraordinarily busy. These are difficult times, Mr Weston. He does a great deal of charity work as well,’Robert said, dusting himself off and folding his used serviette neatly on the plate.

‘Charitable work, of what sort? Perhaps I can…’ Thorne began, before Robert stood and interjected with a flourish.

‘Are you not about to undertake a great deal of work at my behest for the good of this island? Do not think about traipsing about town without my consent. I expressly forbid it,’ Robert said. ‘In fact, I had thought you in particular, Thorne, wanted to conduct yourself without attracting notice. You are, after all, in a spot of bother, aren’t you, my friend?’ He lingered on this last word as if to emphasise its absurdity. Dermot could not believe it, that Lord Robert had taken against the man meant to torture his witches.

Thorne’s cheeks coloured. He had none of the splotchy red Dermot was prone to. There was a mere dusting of pink as his fingers ran through his curls.

‘I won’t hear anything of the sort,’ Weston said, standing and putting a protective hand on Thorne’s shoulder. ‘And I would refute any claim that was made to me until my dying breath.’

Robert smiled. ‘I see. Yes, I understand the both of you. Well. I think we are quite finished here.’

Tristan stood and said, ‘Brilliant pie. I think I’ll be finding a woman to warm my bed for the night.’ His voice was slurred but distinct, and he hurried away from them as if in chase of this poor creature.

Weston stared blankly after him, mouth agape.

‘My brother is quite drunk. Shall we go?’ Robert said.

‘Yes. I would like to see the room my partner and I are to stay in,’ Weston said. He was so astonished by the family’s antics as to reveal he shared a room with his beloved witchfinder and, perhaps, the second bed would not be much in use.

‘Do you have a chapel?’ Thorne said, coming to stand behind Weston. ‘I would like to pray.’

Robert laughed, raking his eyes down Thorne as he did so. ‘I meant that we should go down and begin the investigation. Is that not your job, after all? I would not like to think you were, as has been said, fleecing the public of their money.’

Thorne moved further behind Weston, almost imperceptibly.

‘Do not reference that so-called rebuttal to us again, else we will reconsider our coming at all. If you would, take us down to the people in question as you like,’ Weston said. Dermot took some pleasure in this, never having heard someone defy Robert. The rest of them were cowed, but Weston seemed confident enough to say whatever he pleased so long as it was in defence of Thorne.