He reached into his pocket and drew out the two magical charms he had crafted from wood and kept for his sisters. “I have carried these many years, for I made them when we were first parted.”
He held out his hand, gesturing. “Keep it with you always. Hold it to your heart if you need me and I will come to your side.”
Jessie looked down at the objects in his hand, and then took one, studying it. “I feel your magic. You’re most gifted, brother.”
“I have had years to learn, and knowledgeable people around me, a coven of my own.”
For a moment she rested her fingers over the second charm and he felt her yearning for her twin. Then she tucked her own into her bodice and smiled at him.
“Was there never anyone for you?” From the information he had gleaned, it seemed that she had always been alone.
“Until Gregor. Sometimes I wondered about people, but I was too afraid to ask them, after what I saw.”
It tortured Lennox to think of her so lonely, in a time and place that did not accept their beliefs. “That will never be the case again.”
Jessie stared down at his open palm.
Lennox closed it, pocketing the second charm. “You and Maisie were so close,” he commented. “Do you ever feel anything of her?”
Jessie nodded. “Not often, but there are times when I feel how far away she is, and she longs to find us as much as we crave to find her.”
“The villagers who kept you said nothing?”
“No. No one would even answer me if I spoke of my family.” She fell silent awhile, and Lennox saw how hard her life had been, and for a long while. “I did see the carriage that took her, when they finally let us down from the pillars outside the Kirk.”
“A carriage?” Lennox’s attention sharpened.
“Aye. It was a fancy affair, with a crest on the door.”
“Would you recall the crest if you were shown it?”
Jessie’s forehead creased. “Possibly.”
“Several members of my coven are wainwrights. We had good trade in Saint Andrews these past two years. It might be possible to study a record of crests, once we are all safe and can give the subject some time.”
“Oh, Lennox, that would be grand.”
“Keep the image of the crest in your thoughts and we’ll find a way.” The priority was to get everyone to safety in the Highlands, but there was a slender chance there and he could see Jessie’s yearning, the hope that they might find her twin. Lennox could scarcely imagine how hard it must have been for her. They were inseparable as children. He’d assumed them together all these years, with each other for comfort.
By the time the man she called Gregor Ramsay returned from a nearby village with provisions, they knew the important events of each other’s lives and how they both came to be at this spot where their paths had crossed.
“Jessie tells me you are a seafaring man,” Lennox said, as her companion shared out bannocks and cheese.
“I was.” The man seemed not to want to say more on the subject.
Lennox eyed him with curiosity. There was a tightly packed bundle that he kept close at his side, and Lennox sensed it was of great value. The man had a scarred face, and yet he was not cowed by it, nor did he try to hide it. How had he come by the wound, Lennox wondered, wary of the man’s sway over his sister.
Jessie ate heartily, which encouraged Lennox to eat, too.
“We will come to Edinburgh with you,” Jessie stated. “We can help you find your Chloris.” She smiled at Lennox.
“You cannot go to Edinburgh,” the man called Gregor Ramsay insisted. “We take the road north.” He directed his next words at Lennox. “Where Jessie is safe and unknown.”
Lennox did not argue with him because the man was correct in what he said.
He was not sure he liked the man, though. Neither was this Mister Ramsay one of their kind, although he seemed to have accepted it in Jessie, as Chloris had in him. It affected him oddly because the sight of these two together made him think even more about his relationship with Chloris, and how they might manage together, despite their differences. They would make it work.
Nevertheless it was not what he’d wanted for his sisters. They held beliefs that meant they would be safest with a Witch Master, someone who would not be afraid of them and would not turn on them. He thought of the young men in his coven, strong, loyal young men. This man, Gregor Ramsay, had knowledge and wisdom in his eyes, something he saw in those who traveled to faraway places, but Lennox was not sure of him yet.