‘Not at all, Mr Lambeth. I’ve used the treatment often and with great success.’ Here Miss Carew hesitates. ‘But I admit that there are those who do believe plants have a spiritual use.’
‘Oh?’
‘Well, chickweed is also thought to aid in the strengthening of relationships and family bonds. Mistletoe is considered a promoter of good fortune, sage enhances spiritual awakening, dandelions cleanse away impurities, and garlic has been known to ward off bad spirits. Maybe these measures are all, as you say, in the mind, but people claim they work. Perhaps believing they work is all that matters.’
Linette said something similar to Henry once. It is gratifying, she thinks, that there is at least one woman at this table she can share an opinion with.
‘What of trees?’ Mr Dee says, clasping his hands together in an upside-down basket. ‘Do they hold the same power as plants? There are an awful lot of yew trees in the churchyard, you see; I’ve tried digging them up many times over the years – their roots are awfully bothersome and interfere with the graves. I always had the notion they were thwarting me on purpose. Does that have any significance?’
Miss Carew dabs her mouth with her napkin. ‘Yew is often referred to as the Immortal Tree, for they are steadfast and hard to kill, as you’ve found. They are synonymous with longevity and resurrection.’
Henry is looking thoughtfully at Linette. ‘I’ve been told rowan is the tree of enchantment.’
‘That’s correct.’
‘What of gorse?’
Linette stills, swallows the last of her soup. She raises her eyes to meet his. He stares right back.
‘Gorse? It is a tree for protection, to guard against evil intentions.’ Miss Carew hesitates. ‘Some say it wards off demonic spirits.’
The soup is finished. As if on cue Cadoc enters to clear the bowls, leaving the party to help themselves to the remaining dishes. Lady Pennant wastes no time in reaching for a slice of roast mutton as the door swings shut behind him.
‘Demonic spirits,’ Julian murmurs, filling his wine glass to the top. ‘How interesting.’
‘But not to be taken lightly,’ says Mr Dee. ‘The Devil and his demons are to be feared.’
‘Are they now?’
‘Certainly. As God has angels do His bidding, so the Devil has demons to do his.’
‘Bidding?’ Miss Carew asks.
‘Ie,’ the reverend replies, blinking in earnest. ‘Demons are fallen angels with a mission to promote sin, induce temptations or frighten us, to do anything that will keep us away from the light of God. Demons torment people through possessing them or by provoking visions that induce them to sin with only the merest whisper. They tempt with promises of wealth and status, of bestowing the heart’s greatest desires, and it depends on which demon one communes with as to the reward. As the Bible says, “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the Devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.”’
The light shifts in the room. Outside, the dusk casts purple patterns in the sky. Soon, the lengthening twilight will turn the sky as black as pitch. Julian lounges back in his chair, teases the folds of his cravat. Lady Pennant reaches for her fan, waves it so hard the curls of her wig ruffle.
‘I suppose, vicar,’ Mr Lambeth says, ‘a man such as yourself would take great heed in such things. But it is my opinion that the villagers here too often mix up their Christian beliefs with their own little folk tales. Leaving offerings for their mine creatures and painting their doors white, for instance. It is all too absurd.’ He turns to Henry with a sneer. ‘For a man of scientific principles, you must find such things abhorrent.’
Henry spares Linette an apologetic glance. ‘I confess I set no store in them.’
‘You are familiar with them though?’ Sir John asks, poised over a slice of oyster loaf.
‘Linette had me read a book of Welsh folklore, sir. To aid in my understanding of the language.’
‘And you don’t,’ Lady Selwyn ventures, ‘even in some small measure, believe the tales?’
‘Not at all.’
‘What of the tylwyth teg?’
‘Nonsense.’
‘The Lady of the Lake?’
‘Ridiculous.’
‘Dragons?’ Miss Carew whispers.