“You saw me take the purse from the chimney on the day you went to the market for me and bought my lace collar,” Mrs. Miller said.

Alinor remembered turning her head away and seeing the reflection of Mrs. Miller fetching her purse in the shiny silver trencher.

She swallowed. “That was months ago,” she said. “In the autumn. Last year.”

“But you knew of her hiding place?” Mrs. Wheatley asked.

Alinor turned to her friend. “Yes. So did many, I should think.”

“But you knew, Alinor?”

“And you needed money,” Mrs. Stoney pointed out. “I never thought you would get the dowry together.”

“We worked,” Alys burst into speech. “Everyone saw us. We both worked. Like dogs. Here at the mill, everyone saw us working here, and we spun, and I worked the ferry. And my father gave me . . . and my uncle lent us . . .”

“I never thought it’d be enough,” Mr. Stoney contributed. “I thought you must’ve borrowed from someone.”

“No!” Alinor said proudly, and then thought she should have said yes.

“I helped Alys,” Richard interrupted, and received a savage look from his mother.

“You had no business to,” she said sharply.

“And even so,” Mr. Stoney said, “you only had your wages.”

“His inheritance?” Alinor said. Her hands were shaking, the faerie gold sparkled.

“What inheritance? He’s got no inheritance,” Mr. Stoney said.

Alys looked at her mother, her eyes huge in her pale face and silently shook her head. There was no inheritance.

“Mrs. Reekie, say it isn’t so!” Mr. Miller said to her quietly. “I’ve known you for years. Say it isn’t so.”

“Of course it isn’t so!” Alinor repeated. Even to her own ears her voice sounded weak, the denial unconvincing. She stretched her hands towards Mr. Miller’s reassuring bulk, as if to give him the faerie gold.

“No, I don’t want it!” he said, stepping back and whipping his hands behind his back. “I don’t want it in my house.”

“Let me throw it out the door then!” Alinor turned to the kitchen, and the open door to the yard. But Mrs. Miller suddenly barred the way.

“Not so fast,” she said. “You’ll have to answer for this. No dashing out. You hold that, till you prove it isn’t yours!”

“And where’s my dowry?” Jane demanded.

Alinor tried to laugh, her hands sticky with faerie coins. “Mrs. Miller, I’ve been your neighbor for all my life. My mother delivered you—”

“And everyone said she was a witch.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“She did charming. She was a cunning woman. She could find things. She could take things,” Mrs. Miller reminded her. “She could cast . . .”

“But I don’t. You know I don’t.”

“Your hands are full of faerie gold! Where’s it come from?”

“I didn’t take your money!” Alinor exclaimed. “I didn’t change it into this!”

“Lay ahold of her!” Mrs. Miller said urgently, as if Alinor’s raised voice changed everything. “She’s cursing us. And you”—she ordered her husband—“you get the other church warden or the minister. She’ll have to be charged.”

“Back to the church?”

“Are you arguing with me?” Mrs. Miller shouted at him. “A witch in our house with her hands full of faerie gold, and you’re standing there arguing with me?”

Mr. Miller cast one incredulous look at Alinor and went out of the parlor into the kitchen, and pulled on his winter cape. He threw open the door to the yard and everyone heard the sound of a horse. “Sir William,” Mr. Miller said with evident relief. “His lordship’s coming. He’s a magistrate. He can decide what’s to be done.”

Everyone in the parlor crowded around Alinor and led her through the kitchen and out into the mill yard to greet the solitary horseman. But it was not Sir William. It was James Summer.

“His lordship’s on his way.” He smiled, but then he was silenced as he saw Alinor, her cupped hands filled with coins, surrounded by frightened people. “What is this? What’s happening here?”

“It’s Mrs. Reekie, taken for a witch,” Mrs. Wheatley said, matter-of-fact, going to the horse’s head and looking up at James. “Mrs. Miller here has had her savings changed into faerie gold, and she accuses Alinor Reekie, who makes no defense.”

“What?” James demanded incredulously.

Alinor could not bring herself to face him, could not speak to him.

“It’s not true,” Alys said, pushing forwards. “Of course, it’s not true.”

“Then how are my savings turned into faerie gold, and the true coin gone?” Mrs. Miller demanded. “Who would do that, if not a witch? Who could do such a thing? And doesn’t everyone know that Alinor has always loved the faerie gold? Even when she was a girl she would find it and keep it?”

“I didn’t steal your money! Of course I knew where you had it hidden. I’ve known for months—probably everyone does. But I didn’t steal it. I wouldn’t steal from you, or anyone! I’ve been in and out of your house and your yard all my life. I go into people’s houses all the time. There’s not many houses on Sealsea Island that I’ve not attended, and I’ve never ever taken anything. I’m a licensed midwife—”

“Not got a license now,” a man remarked, making Alinor break off and look at him.

“That’s not my fault!” she said. “How can you say that against me?”

“What about Ned’s wife and baby?”

Alinor gasped. “She lost her baby. I did everything I knew . . .”

More wedding guests had followed James into the yard. Alinor looked around at a score of her neighbors and saw puzzled and fearful faces.

“You know me. You all know me. I would never . . .” Alinor could barely speak, even in her own defense.

“Well, someone did it,” Mr. Miller said heavily, looking up at James, who was still mounted, frozen with indecision, as everyone turned to him to rule on what was to be done. “What do you think, sir?”

“Mrs. Reekie will have to go before a magistrate to clear her name,” James said reluctantly.

“Is Sir William following you?” Mr. Stoney asked.

“Yes,” James said. “He’s on his way.”

“He’s a magistrate. He’ll do. He can hear the case against her now as soon as he comes,” said Mr. Miller, a church warden who knew the law. He went a little closer to James and took the reins of his horse. “We don’t want her carried off to prison in Chichester,” he muttered quickly. “She’s a good woman. We don’t want her put on trial for a thief. She’ll be hanged if more than three pounds are missing, and there was fifty pounds in that purse. Best keep this here, in the village. Best his lordship rules here, where we can keep it among ourselves. Better get started, sir, so no one thinks of Chichester.”

James was shocked into action. He dismounted from his horse and the stable lad took it to the barn. “I’ll take the evidence here,” he said loud enough foreveryone to hear. “Sir William and I will confer when he arrives.”