Aline
And this one, dated a few weeks later, which I found particularly disturbing.
Robert,
Please come back to Briarwood, my love. The Historical Society are more bothersome than ever. I don’t know who has given them the authority to come after us like this, but come they have, and they’re not going away. We’re trying to talk to the authorities, but it’s as if they’re anticipating our movements.
I toss and turn in the night. Sleeping has become untenable with the baby pressing against my bladder and my worries pressing against my mind.
Please, come home soon,
Aline
Robert’s letters, on the other hand, were erratic. Sometimes he sounded poetic and besotted. At other times – often in the same sentence – he’d switch to a grave and harsh diction.
Dearest Aline,
London cold is not Briarwood cold. The drafts of that old castle carry the ghosts of the past – venerable old rebels who fought for liberty and peace – not unlike us. But London cold is the cold of money just printed, of falling through ice, of bodies bobbing in the Thames.
I sleep, dreaming of your cunt.
Robert
Aline,
They won’t sell me a sandwich. I have money. But I asked Robert did he want smoked cheese or Swiss and they kicked me out. Cheese-scoffing French bastards.
Did you hang my painting?
Rob
Aline,
I’m going to die in this fucking city. Every breath is poison. I met a squirrel who was a banker. He’s going to die, too. Send me your cunt in a bowl so I can drown in it.
Robert
Aline,
Destroy the portrait, I’m begging you. Throw it in the fire. Let the paint melt and dribble. I am painting you another, and it will be even finer and more beautiful, you will see. You must destroy the portrait, promise me. Don’t ask me to explain.
Please, do this one thing for me.
Rob
And on and on it went.No wonder Robert committed himself.I didn’t know much about mental illness, but if there was ever a case for schizophrenia or multiple personality disorder, this was it.
But I also knew that if I talked to a normal person about being a High Priestess and the fae and using orgies to increase my power, I’d sound just as mad.
Did all this stuff Robert was saying actually have meaning? Were there coded messages that only my mother would understand?
Why did he ask her to destroy the painting?
“Did you ever read these letters?” I asked Corbin’s dad. “Did anyone else get correspondence from Robert or other witches?”
Andrew shook his head. “Most witches don’t socialize outside of their coven. It’s dangerous. If anyone is discovered and persecuted as a witch, then there’s less chance they’ll be linked to others. There are only a few ways of getting news of the witching community, such as visiting Isadora in London. Aline had some contact with other High Priestesses leading up to the final ritual, but this handwritten communication was only between her and Robert. If I’d known about it at the time, I’d have advised her not to do it.”
“Does any of this nonsense look like code to you?” I showed him the letter about the squirrel. “I’m just thinking about the Historical Society references. Some of these other things might have a hidden meaning. The squirrel?”
