“Uncle Damon,” Ianthe said as she opened her eyes. “I am so glad I met Miss Cordelia.”

  “I am as well.” He was also happy to have made Miss Cordelia’s acquaintance, and not just for Ianthe. There had been an ease in conversation and a lightness in his mood after spending time in her presence.

  He’d even contemplated kissing her after he escorted her back to Hollybrook Park.

  It had been a sudden, yet thankfully fleeting, urge because he didn’t need such a complication in his life. Damon needed to protect his family and be alert to danger, which he could not do if he was kissing the neighbor.

  “I’m still afraid,” she admitted. “But I don’t need to let it rule over me. I shall rule it,” she said with determination. “That is what Miss Cordelia said that I must do.”

  “She is correct.” He patted Ianthe’s head, relieved that perhaps he and Ianthe may get through this period of learning sooner than later.

  “We will invite her to visit again tomorrow.” If he was busy with Ianthe and Miss Cordelia, he’d not be expected to entertain Miss Perkins. Though if she remained too long, he’d run out of excuses.

  Cordelia paused in the clearing and glanced about. She was certain this was the correct place. The area was surrounded by trees and the same patch of wildflowers flourished in the sun. But where the gate was supposed to be, there was a large, overgrown thorny rose bush.

  There was no other place like this between Hollybrook Park and Nightshade Manor, so she had to be in the right place.

  Slowly she approached where the gate should be, not certain why since she couldn’t enter, but it was still a curiosity as it had not been there yesterday. She presumed Lady Chandos had caused this, just as she parted bramble and made nightshade grow, but to what purpose? Was it to keep her out of Nightshade? Had Lady Chandos changed her mind about Cordelia helping Ianthe, or was Cordelia to arrive by the front gate?

  It had been Lord Bentford who had told her to use this gate so perhaps he didn’t know that it had been blocked.

  Just as she decided to return to Hollybrook Park so that she might take the road to Nightshade Manor, which would put her behind schedule, the leaves and roses rustled as if a heavy breeze had pushed against them and then, before Cordelia’s very eyes, they parted, revealing the entry.

  She simply stared for a moment, before she stepped through. Once she was on the other side, Cordelia turned, and the roses closed behind her.

  For one who had not experienced anything magical until the Norcott family had arrived, Cordelia found this thrilling and a bit disturbing. Were all witches able to make plants and bushes part, grow and possibly even die?

  Once she was through the trees and bushes that hid the path to the gate, Cordelia stopped and glanced about. Nobody was outside, but she knew that she was expected. This was the time the missive had asked her to arrive. Carefully she made her way to the lower terrace just as the back doors opened and Ianthe ran out, followed by her younger sisters.

  “Miss Cordelia, you came,” Ianthe called with happiness.

  At least someone was happy to see her, even if it was a child. Though, in her heart of hearts, she wished that Lord Bentford had been here to greet her as well.

  Cordelia pushed the thought aside. She was a guest for so long as Ianthe needed her assistance, and it was unlikely that she’d be invited for any other purpose. There was no reason for him to greet her, especially since it was Lady Chandos who had sent for Cordelia.

  “Do you mind if my sisters watch?” Ianthe asked.

  “Of course not,” she assured the child.

  She turned her attention to Ianthe. “Where would you like to practice?”

  “Over there.” She pointed to another patch of wildflowers near the grove.

  “It looks perfect.”

  Cordelia was often pulled toward flowers, and she wasn’t certain if it was because she truly enjoyed them or if it was because it is where her governess had her stand in the beginning.

  “Where wildflowers bloom, happiness remains” is what her governess had told her, and Cordelia still believed it to be true, whether it was or not.

  After they walked to the selected area, Ianthe settled on the ground and removed her shoes and stockings. She’d not done so yesterday, nor had it been one of Cordelia’s instructions.

  “My grandmother suggested that I connect with the earth as that is where some of my strength and power comes from.”

  “She has the power of earth and weather,” Nephele offered. “We don’t know what we will have. It could be only one of those or both.”

  Cordelia knew that witches had different powers, but she was just as certain there were far more than she’d even contemplated as it wasn’t something she’d given much thought. Perhaps she should.

  “I’m ready,” Ianthe announced after she set her stockings and shoes aside and stood before Cordelia.

  “Let’s begin.” She smiled down at the girl.

  Ianthe turned to her younger sisters. “Pay very close attention.”

  As they had yesterday, they went through the practice of calming and Cordelia wondered if she too should attempt to do this barefoot. Would it help her as well, or only a witch?

  Oh, as much as she wished she could concentrate, her mind did wander even though she quietly repeated the instructions Ianthe needed to hear.

  It wasn’t so much that her thoughts had taken flight on random subjects, but they were focused on Lord Bentford and wondering if she would see him today. Then Cordelia quickly chastised herself. They’d had a few friendly conversations, nothing more, and she was the one who had wanted a kiss, not him.

  And worst of all, that obsession, calling or need had not lessened. It should have upon meeting the family and especially after she’d finally visited Nightshade Manor, but it seemed to have grown stronger.

  She even dreamed of here last night. She’d been walking in the gardens with Lord Bentford, which was very pleasant, but odd as well because he held her hand. Then he turned to her, pulled her close and Cordelia was instantly overcome with fear and had to flee. She knew she didn’t fear Bentford, but she’d been filled with terror. The dream had been so real that she’d woken with her heart pounding, and it took some time before it calmed.

  Cordelia blew out the last long, slow breath then opened her eyes. Ianthe did the same and looked up at her and grinned. The child did seem relaxed, and Cordelia wished she felt the same, but she didn’t.

  “Will you teach us too?” Nephele asked as she and Clio jumped up from the ground.

  Cordelia was just about to answer them when she spied Lord Bentford standing on the terrace watching them. Her pulse sped and heart raced as her stomach did that odd little flip, then it grew sour when the woman standing beside him, curved her arm around his, stepped close and smiled at Cordelia.

  Whoever she was, she was very possessive of Lord Bentford, and he didn’t seem to mind as he didn’t move away. Of course, why should he? The woman was beautiful and tall. Bentford would barely need to bend if he wished to kiss that woman.

  “I should go,” Cordelia told Ianthe.

  Why did it pain her to see Bentford standing with another woman? They’d only just met, but Cordelia couldn’t explain the sudden ache in her heart.

  “Do say you’ll return tomorrow.”

  “If you need me,” she said, though Cordelia hoped that Ianthe no longer required her assistance. She didn’t want to be here and watch Bentford courting another woman. Or were they betrothed? Hadn’t Adam said that nobody was invited to Nightshade, yet this woman was here, which meant she was very important to Bentford.

  Cordelia glanced back up from the girls to note that Bentford and the lady were walking in her direction.

  Blast! She should have left immediately.

  As they drew close, Cordelia brought herself straight. She’d bury her emotions and remind herself that she meant nothing to anyone in this household other than helping Ianthe.

  Chapter 13

  The games of Whist had put him on edge, especially since his mother continued her matchmaking by asking leading questions to which Miss Perkins answered in what Damon assumed would be an appropriate response if he was looking for a wife.

  His head had been pounding by the time he retired to his set of rooms and took that first sip of brandy. As he stood at his window and glanced out over the cove, then toward Hollybrook Park, Damon wondered if he shouldn’t ask Miss Cordelia to teach him the witches’ calm as he might need it if Miss Perkins remained at Nightshade Manor much longer.

  Had it been Miss Cordelia who’d been playing Whist, it is likely he’d still be enjoying the game. She was honest and kind, and without manipulation in her heart, unlike Miss Perkins. Of course, he hardly knew Miss Cordelia well enough to know if that was the truth, but he was relaxed in her presence and didn’t fear saying anything he shouldn’t or encouraging her unintentionally, which would give her hope of a courtship. Such could not be said of Miss Perkins, and he had to guard his reaction and his words almost as much as he had while in school and when in Society so he didn’t let on that he came from a household of witches.

  It was bloody exhausting to worry constantly about what was said or how one behaved.

  Last evening Damon had succeeded in maintaining his patience, but today may not be as successful. It began when he arrived in the breakfast room to find it empty. Not that he hadn’t dined alone in the past, but he was then joined by Miss Perkins and learned that his nieces had already eaten so that they could attend to their lessons, and that his mother had requested a tray in her room--her attempt to give Miss Perkins and Damon time alone to further her matchmaking.

  While Miss Perkins prattled on and attempted to engage him in conversation, her companion remained quiet and sat further away. Damon had been polite in his responses to her inquiries but had not been encouraging and could only hope that Miss Perkins realized that they would not be a good match and take her leave.

  The day proceeded with brief moments in which he did encounter his mother and his nieces. However, for the most part, it was Miss Perkins who remained near and he finally agreed to take her on a stroll and show her the grounds. Once finished, Damon intended to absent himself for the rest of the afternoon. He’d lock the door to his bloody library and keep everyone out if he needed to and only emerge when Miss Cordelia came to call to work with Ianthe. His mother had not yet told him when she was expected but said she’d send a note.

  As he exited the gardens after having toured the orchard, where Miss Perkins had delighted in the oranges, and came around the corner of the manor, he found that Miss Cordelia was already here and standing with Ianthe.

  Anger spiked because he’d talked to his mother not an hour ago and she hadn’t yet sent the invitation. Either she had lied, which was likely, or Cordelia had visited without an invitation, which was very unlikely.

  “Isn’t it sweet that your neighbor is being of assistance?” Miss Perkins’ tone was one an adult would use for a child visiting to be a playmate to Ianthe.

  “She’s helped my niece.”

  “I could have done so as well, Lord Bentford,” Miss Perkins offered. “In fact, I would enjoy coming to know your nieces better.”

  He saw no need for her to do so since she would soon be gone, or so he hoped.

  “A young witch should really learn from another witch. I’m surprised your mother allows someone so normal to be of assistance.”

  Miss Cordelia was far from normal. She was kind and understanding, as well as beautiful.

  “Ianthe likes her,” Damon finally said.

  “If that is the case, then I’d like to meet her.”

  Damon said nothing further but allowed Miss Perkins to lead him across the terrace and toward the patch of land where Ianthe and Miss Cordelia stood and Nephele and Clio sat and watched. It was good that they were learning too as it may keep them from being overcome with fear when their time came.

  “Your nieces could also benefit from attending a school,” Miss Perkins continued. “I attended one myself and learned much. I am surprised your mother hasn’t suggested such as it would free her of the burden.”

  Damon glanced down at their guest. His mother did not see her grandchildren as a burden. “My mother does not believe young witches should be sent off to learn, but instruction should be in the home.”

  “Perhaps,” she agreed. “But there are more benefits from a school than learning to be a proper witch and gaining skill. There are friendships.”

  He’d not considered such. His closest friends were those that he’d made at Eton.

  “By being exposed to others their age, your nieces would recognize other witches in Society when they come of age to attend a Season. It was certainly a comfort to me as I knew who I could confide in freely.”

  Maybe his mother hadn’t considered the other benefits of such a school, and it would be something that he would need to give further thought.

  Miss Cordelia had just finished as he and Miss Perkins joined them. Ianthe glanced up at Cordelia with a bright smile.

  “I’m certain that I will need you again,” Ianthe was saying. “I tried to remember everything last night but didn’t.”

  “You may tonight,” Cordelia responded, though she was looking at Damon and not his niece. “The more you practice, the easier it will become.”

  “I can help you if you wish,” Miss Perkins said as she drew close to Damon and practically pressed her breast against his upper arm, just as she’d done at his mother’s garden party.

  Ianthe turned and the smile slipped as Miss Cordelia became stiff and proper.

  “Thank you, Miss Perkins, but I’d rather continue to practice with Miss Cordelia,” Ianthe stated politely.

  Did Ianthe not like Miss Perkins?

  He’d need to ask her when they were alone.

  Miss Perkins let go of his arm, thank goodness, then bent down to look Ianthe in the eye. “I may know a few tricks that your neighbor does not.”

  Ianthe frowned. “Tricks? There should not be any tricks, Miss Perkins. It is honest, strength and calm.”

  “Yes of course,” Miss Perkins laughed nervously. “A poor choice of words. I simply meant that I may know of different things you might try.”

  Ianthe looked up to Damon as if searching for a way to answer Miss Perkins. He gave no indication of his thoughts, at least he hoped he didn’t because Ianthe needed to make this decision on her own, though he knew who he hoped she’d choose.

  “Thank you, Miss Perkins. If I find I need further assistance, I will ask your advice,” Ianthe answered then looked back at Miss Cordelia. “For now, I am fine.”

  “Yes, well I can see that.” Miss Perkins straightened and looked to Miss Cordelia with a tight smile. “Miss Vera Perkins,” she introduced herself.

  “Miss Cordelia Vail,” his neighbor returned, all stiff and proper, which Damon did not like in the least. She’d been relaxed and comfortable when they last spoke, and he did not want Cordelia feeling unwelcome because of a guest in his home.

  “We were just going in for tea,” Damon offered. “Would you like to join us, Miss Cordelia?”

  “No thank you. I really should return home.”

  “Will I see you tomorrow, Miss Cordelia?” Ianthe asked anxiously.

  “If you wish.” With that, she finally smiled, but it was directed at his niece and not Damon and for that he had to thank Miss Perkins.

  “Good day.” Cordelia offered a quick and slight curtsey then turned and made her way toward the hidden gate.

  After Cordelia disappeared through the shrubbery, the girls ran back toward the manor, though Clio tripped on the way and landed on her knees. At the first sound of a whimper, Damon rushed forward.

  “My shoes,” Ianthe cried and ran back to where she’d been with Cordelia.

  He’d barely reached Clio when the first drop of rain landed on his hand and thunder rumbled above his head.

  As the sky darkened, he recalled Madam Boswell’s words. I only see darkness, storm clouds and rough water. At another crack of thunder, he scooped Clio up in his arms and dashed for the manor, calling for Ianthe to hurry. Nephele had gotten inside first and stood there waiting and watching, a frown on her lips. Miss Perkins ran after him, but she did not get wet. It was as if the rain avoided falling directly on her.

  “She has a power to control water,” his mother said as she came from behind. “A rainstorm is of little consequence to Miss Perkins.”

  It may not be for her, but Miss Cordelia was not so lucky and would probably be soaked through before she arrived at Hollybrook Park.

  As the winds picked up, the water in the cove rose and crashed against the shore as lightning flashed in the distance. Damon hoped Miss Cordelia made it to safety unscathed.

  Another streak of lightning struck a tree not far from where Miss Cordelia and Ianthe had been practicing the witches’ calm. His nieces had been sitting there as well.

  A chill raced up his spine. If he hadn’t joined them when he did, would they have remained out there longer and possibly been caught in the storm. Would they have been away before the lightning struck the tree?

  Yes, of course they would have, but it still didn’t sit well.

  “Sometimes maybe a storm is a storm, and it is that easy,” he muttered.

  “What was that?” Miss Perkins asked.

  He’d not confide in her. In fact, the only person who knew was his mother and Damon wished for it to remain that way.

  Cordelia had once again dropped bits of lace along the walk then settled onto the bench to read. She did this often and was determined one day to see a pixie. What she had hoped to encounter one day had become a stubbornness, and she would visit each and every day until she finally saw one.

  She also hoped that she was not summoned to Nightshade Manor today. What she needed was a quiet day without interruption. Yesterday had been harrowing.

  Not while she was at Nightshade Manor. That had simply been upsetting, and perhaps heartbreaking. It was while she was walking home when the storm blew in from the sea. By the time she reached the manor, she was completely soaked and the hair at the nape of her neck stood on end from lightning striking far too close to be comfortable.