2.5 Mrs Sinclair and the Feather Haa

In which Mrs Sinclair is sent to sea.

Aug 02, 2024

Lady Brae looked sideways again at Mrs Sinclair.

Mrs Sinclair felt unable to think. Her mind seemed a fog, and all she could truly grasp was pleasure at the thought of quitting Shetland. But was this truly her own desire? She struggled to think: there was some coercion here. She had seen – what had she seen? She had seen the key to this, but she could not remember. A cold terror began to rise in her heart. She had no idea why Lady Brae was rushing her out of Shetland. She tried to object, to express doubt, caution, even hesitation, but her mouth could not form the words. She cast about wildly for a way to free herself but could recall nothing of any use, no counterspell at all. It was intolerable, and she was helpless. Lady Brae sat looking at her quizzically, as if she were waiting for an answer.

At last Mrs Sinclair managed to formulate a question that was permitted to pass her lips.

‘Madam. Why must I go to Pompeii?’

Pompeii! She had never been out of Scotland in her life, and yet this commanding female was expecting her to travel the length of Europe! With soldiers and bandits and who knew what rabble on the roads after the glorious victory of Waterloo. Mrs Sinclair seethed inwardly but was unable to express her outrage.

However Lady Brae looked pleased. ‘I am so glad you asked. I have an errand for you. Some small items to collect, and bring home.’

‘No-one else can do this for you?’ This took an effort to say, but Mrs Sinclair managed it, though she felt as if she were in a nightmare. The very ornaments on the étagères and the fire-irons in the hearth seemed to be laughing at her. Delicate china shepherdesses winked at her in derision, and the fine walnut grandfather clock tick-tocked with a sound of approaching doom. How could she leave her children in the charge of this terrifying woman? But she knew that that choice had been taken from her the moment she walked into this house.

Lady Brae shook her head gravely. ‘No-one else. You alone have the skills, and with your children safe with me, I can trust you utterly to return with my commission.’

Her eyes were turning the most curious colour, Mrs Sinclair thought, but she was by now wholly in despair of being able to trust her comprehension. Lady Brae’s eyes were now a greenish-yellow, like the eyes of the snakes which swarmed so joyfully up the carved legs of the tambour table. It was quite unnatural.

Then Lady Brae’s expression grew harder and her eyes returned to a more natural blue.

‘In fact, it is better that you leave sooner, rather than wait until the spring, as I expect you were about to suggest.’

‘Why, Madam?’ Mrs Sinclair was permitted to ask.

‘Tell me how many servants you still have. Or did Gilbert drive them all away, with his meanness and bad temper?’

Mrs Sinclair struggled to count them. Her memory had grown abominably weak. ‘Six, I think, indoors and out.’

Lady Brae looked at her satirically. ‘Tiens tiens. So few?’

‘I admit, two maids left us in the summer.’

‘So. I predict that in a month, then, perhaps a little sooner, you will need to retire from society. Word has been travelling, and I have heard that your husband did not die entirely naturally. I also heard, only yesterday, that you washed out his medicine bottles on the day of his death. In my experience, gossip leads to action, and you have six servants to spread rumours. Jessie is a good woman – she was a parlourmaid in this very house – with a good mistress to protect, but she cannot hold back the tide of malicious remarks. The ministers and merchant lairds and their families in our good islands will be gossiping about you in days. You must act swiftly.’

‘Before I am left without servants?’ Mrs Sinclair burst out.

Her interlocutor regarded her with a stern eye.

‘Ma chère, they still burn witches in these parts.’ Lady Brae said. ‘I will rejoice in your company when you can return, because their frenzy will not last forever, but I want you gone from Shetland as soon as you can be packed. You must contrive.’

Mrs Sinclair stared at her, and could not resist her command.

By the time Mrs Sinclair and Miss Warner reached the port of Aberdeen Mrs Sinclair had resolved that it would be a very long time before she ventured on the sea for so many hours again. Her companion’s exhausted face showed her age more clearly than Mrs Sinclair had ever seen before. They had had no sleep, and Miss Warner, older than her employer by ten or more years, could not manage the steep ladders from the passenger hold in the gales, so only Mrs Sinclair had had any fresh air.

Aberdeen shocked her. It was a huge port compared to Lerwick. When she and Miss Warner disembarked from the Clarion they were deafened by a hubbub of shrieking voices in accents they could barely distinguish. Mrs Sinclair managed to hire a conveyance to take them to Mackie’s Hotel on Broadgate, to which Lady Brae had written to bespeak their rooms but she felt exhausted, and still abominably sick. The rooms were less clean than she could have wished, and she struggled to remain serene.

She told Miss Warner that they would leave as soon as a coach and coachman could be procured.

The Shetland Witch

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