“Perhaps I should convince you.” Her grey eyes grew dark as her smile became seductive. Miss Perkins then leaned in, put one palm against his cheek and kissed him.

  Damon did not return the kiss. In fact, he felt nothing.

  Miss Perkins drew back and smiled.

  Damon simply stared at her.

  “You see, it is meant to be.”

  “No, I do not see.”

  “Then you are blind to the signs, or did you not notice that it was snowing?”

  Damon pulled back and glanced about him. There was snow falling, but only on them. “I don’t understand.”

  “It is a sign, at least for the witches in my family, that when they kiss the mate chosen for them, snow will fall in the summer, or rain in the winter.”

  “I had not heard this before.”

  “It is a secret not shared. My mother only told me on her deathbed so that I would be certain of whom I was to wed, even though she already knew. She said the snow would be proof.”

  It was something he’d need to ask his mother about. He trusted her more than anyone when it came to signs and witches. “I still need to think on this matter, Miss Perkins. Please give me time.”

  Cordelia hummed and waltzed alone in the gardens of Hollybrook Park. They’d danced and Bentford had kissed her hand not once, but twice. Oh, if only he would have kissed her lips.

  She wasn’t simply smitten, she might very well be falling in love.

  A million times she told herself it was foolish to be feeling such for someone she barely knew. But her heart wanted her to ignore reason and embrace the emotion.

  “Cordelia, come quick.”

  She turned to find Edward running from the direction of Nightshade. “What is the matter?”

  “Ianthe needs you.” His breathing was heavy as he stopped before her.

  “Lord Bentford just returned to the estate. I’m certain he can assist her.”

  Edward shook his head. “We hid from him because Ianthe needs you.”

  Goodness. “What has happened?”

  “She needs to explain, but said you are the only one who could help.”

  “Did she at least tell you what is wrong?” She needed to know if it was fear, panic or something else.

  “No. Just that she’s afraid.”

  “Very well.”

  Edward took off running back to Nightshade and Cordelia followed. The roses parted as soon as they drew near and Cordelia followed Edward inside to find Ianthe waiting, her face stained with tears.

  “Whatever is the matter?” Cordelia asked in alarm.

  “It’s her. Miss Perkins. She needs to go.”

  That is why Ianthe was upset? She thought the child had been paralyzed with fear or something equally horrible.

  “I don’t trust her. She tried to teach me her way of the witches’ calm and it didn’t work.”

  “The same practice does not work for everyone,” Cordelia offered gently.

  “I don’t want her to help me again. I do not like her. She wasn’t very nice.”

  “I understand.” Though she didn’t really, but it was better to keep Ianthe calm. “Why don’t the two of us practice now and when you are settled, we can discuss what is on your mind.”

  “She is!”

  “Yes, so you’ve said,” Cordelia stated. “Let us calm first and talk next.”

  “Very well.” Ianthe heaved out a belabored sigh that was more suited for an adult.

  “Shall we go to the same place?”

  “Yes. I suppose.” Ianthe turned and Cordelia followed her from the bushes hiding the gate but stopped abruptly.

  Near the manor Bentford was settled on a bench with Miss Perkins. The woman was smiling, Bentford was not.

  She hated seeing them together, but there was little she could do. Miss Perkins was a guest in their home and Lady Chandos was hoping for a match. Only Bentford could decide if he wished to marry her. Though, in her heart, Cordelia prayed that he didn’t.

  An instant later, Miss Perkins leaned in and kissed Bentford and Cordelia’s heart shattered.

  He was a rake and rogue. How could he flirt, tease and waltz with her and then come here to kiss Miss Perkins?

  She should have known better than to allow her heart to become engaged. She should have remained sensible as it was the only protection she could give herself.

  Cordelia was just about to turn away when it began snowing, but just over Bentford and Miss Perkins. How very odd.

  “See.” Ianthe pointed. “Did you see what she did?”

  Miss Perkins pulled away and smiled at Bentford as if he made her the happiest person in the world.

  Cordelia’s stomach knotted and her chest grew heavy. “I am afraid that I can’t help you today, Ianthe.”

  “But I need you,” she cried.

  Cordelia could not cry in front of the child but if she didn’t leave now, she would. “I’m sorry. I don’t wish to disappoint, but I just can’t today.”

  Turning on her heel, Cordelia ran from Nightshade Manor. She didn’t stop running until she finally gained her own chamber, closed the door, then threw herself on the bed and cried her heart out.

  Ianthe was a child and didn’t understand. She loved her uncle and would have been upset by any woman he spent time with. It was a child’s jealousy, which she would need to overcome because clearly Bentford had made his choice.

  Chapter 19

  The moment supper came to an end, Damon wasted no time and retreated to his library and closed the door. There he sipped brandy and contemplated his future.

  He did not want to marry Miss Perkins, of that he was certain.

  Nor could it be Cordelia.

  That’s what hurt the most. He wanted her and not just in his bed or as a companion, but by his side. She soothed his inner turmoil. He hadn’t even been aware that he’d been nearly constantly under stress until he spent time with her, and it disappeared. He was at ease with Cordelia and any burden he carried seemed light when she was around.

  If only she were a witch.

  Damon took another drink.

  Cordelia knew even less about witchcraft than he did and would be unable to guide his nieces.

  Damon had tried not to think of a future with Cordelia, but it was nearly impossible after today and especially after they’d waltzed. He was going to give consideration to her after the darkness passed. But now, knowing that it was impossible, his heart ached. A pain he’d never experienced before outside of when his brothers had been killed. Except Cordelia hadn’t died, his hope had.

  You believe you want one thing when it is another that you need. Those had been Brighid’s words and Damon now understood. She had sensed how much he had wanted Cordelia, but she wasn’t what he needed.

  Though her prophesies may be true, that did not mean it hurt any less.

  If only he could figure out what she’d meant by flowering vines.

  The door of the library slowly creaked open and Damon prepared to tell whoever it was to leave, fearing it was Miss Perkins. He really didn’t have time for her now. He never would.

  Instead, it was Ianthe. Her young face was scrunched with worry, and he hated to see her as such. His niece should be laughing and joyful. All children should be.

  “May I speak with you, Uncle Damon?”

  “You can always speak with me,” he assured her.

  “Does that include me as well?” his mother demanded as she came up from behind her granddaughter.

  He wished to tell his mother to go way but wouldn’t be so disrespectful.

  “Of course, but please close the door behind you. I don’t wish to be disturbed by anyone else. Though he’d make an exception for Nephele and Clio.

  “I don’t want you to marry her, Uncle Damon,” Ianthe blurted out.

  “Who?”

  “Miss Perkins. She is a trickster.”

  Damon looked to his mother, who seemed more alarmed than concerned.

  “Why do you say so, Ianthe?”

  Not that he had any inclination to marry Miss Perkins, but he did wish to know why Ianthe claimed her to be a trickster.

  “When she kissed you and made it snow.”

  His mother looked to Damon. “She assured me that it was a sign for her kind of a match that is meant to be.”

  “She said the same to me,” Damon groaned.

  “What did you see her do, Ianthe?” Damon asked because he wanted to make certain trickery had been involved or if his niece had just misinterpreted something innocent.

  “This.” Ianthe put her hand up as Miss Perkins had done when she caressed his face. Then Ianthe puckered her lips. However, she put her other hand behind her back, pointed to the ceiling and twirled her finger in circles. Soon there were snow flurries around his niece.

  “Miss Perkins is most definitely a trickster, Ianthe.” He then turned to his mother. “I will not marry her.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Can we make her leave?” Ianthe begged. “She wants to help me, but I only want Miss Cordelia, but she wouldn’t after she saw the snow.”

  His chest tightened in alarm. Damon sat forward. “Miss Cordelia saw the snow?”

  “Edward went to get her for me,” Ianthe answered. “Miss Perkins had been trying to get me to do things her way. She made me nervous, her tone was sharp, and I was afraid that I’d forget what Miss Cordelia taught me. But Miss Cordelia didn’t stay to help because she saw the snow. I think she was afraid.”

  “I will speak with her,” Damon finally said.

  “Don’t tell anyone what you saw,” his mother instructed Ianthe. “Miss Perkins is to leave by the end of the week, and I will not offer to extend her stay.”

  Ianthe blew a breath. “Please ask Miss Cordelia to come tomorrow.”

  “I will dear,” his mother assured her. “Now run along.”

  After Ianthe left and closed the door, his mother turned to Damon. “It wasn’t the snow that upset Miss Cordelia.”

  He said nothing, but his mother was correct. Had he come across her kissing someone after they’d waltzed down the road from Bocka Morrow, he’d be crushed and angry.

  “She’s not for you, Damon.”

  “I know,” he answered quietly. “Please prepare a list of witches who are ready to wed.”

  As much as Cordelia tried to concentrate on her book, it just wasn’t possible. She’d read the same paragraph at least ten times and still didn’t know what it said. She’d blame it on being inside and not in the garden, but that would be a lie.

  She usually enjoyed reading in the garden while hoping to spy a pixie but she feared that Bentford would decide to visit, and she didn’t wish to be caught unawares. If he called as a proper gentleman should, she’d have the option of not being at home.

  The events of yesterday still played over in her mind. Had she mistaken his teasing, flirting and dancing as nothing more than being neighborly?

  Oh, she wished she never would have met Lord Damon Norcott, Viscount Bentford!

  Not only was he a wicked rogue as Benedict had warned, but a libertine, rake, lothario and all manner of ill-repute that could be assigned to bachelors who made misses fall in love then turned their attention elsewhere.

  Now she knew what she’d missed and the excitement so many others had experienced when developing tender feelings for another—of falling in love.

  But she also now knew how horribly painful it was to have a heart broken and she didn’t wish to experience this ever again.

  Nor could she return to Nightshade and hoped that she could manage to avoid Lord Bentford for however long the family was in residence.

  She did feel bad for Ianthe, but Cordelia simply couldn’t go to her. And, since the child couldn’t leave the estate, their lessons were now at an end. Cordelia fully acknowledged that it was unfair to the child, who had done nothing wrong, but she’d never be able to concentrate, and might burst into tears if she were there.

  This was for the best. At least for her. Ianthe would simply need to learn that she couldn’t have everything. Perhaps she would even learn to like the woman who may be her aunt one day.

  “When are you going to help Ianthe today?” Edward asked as he came into the parlor. “I want to go with you.”

  “I will not be visiting Ianthe,” Cordelia answered.

  “You promised her.”

  “Please tell her that I am indisposed today.”

  “You don’t look indisposed to me.”

  “Edward, please,” Cordelia begged. She did not have it in her to do battle with her younger brother. Just once she wished he’d give her peace and not question her words or actions.

  He frowned. “What is really wrong?”

  Was there concern in his tone?

  Even if it was genuine interest, Cordelia could not tell him the truth.

  For one, she’d start crying. Second, she was embarrassed that she had allowed herself to become emotionally attached to a gentleman she barely knew. And third, if Edward knew the truth, it was likely he’d not give her peace. He’d tease her and might tell Ianthe, then she’d tell her family. Cordelia didn’t wish to experience that humiliation on top of everything else. “I have a fierce headache.” She closed her book and stood. “I think I’ll take to my bed until it passes.”

  Thank goodness he said nothing further, but Cordelia could feel Edward watching her as she left the parlor and then climbed the stairs. It was sweet that he cared, but being only thirteen, he couldn’t begin to appreciate the pain in her heart. However, once she recovered, she’d have a long talk with him of how to treat a miss when the time came. She’d forbid him to become a rake, rogue and any manner of disreputable gentleman. Their mother wasn’t around to see that it was done, and she wasn’t certain Adam would have the time as he’d have his own children to care for. Therefore, once again, seeing that Edward became a respectable adult fell to her because they might as well not even have a mother for how little they saw her. Further, given how her mother went from one lover to the next without a care for her own reputation, she was a poor example for Edward.

  The headache was becoming more real by the moment, and she wasn’t certain if it was from lack of sleep or the pain in her heart had spread to her head, or her worry about Edward.

  A nap--that is what she needed. A soothing nap, though she wished she had tea to assist in healing the heart and dissolving discontent.

  If she wasn’t so afraid of Brighid seeing the truth of the matter, Cordelia would walk to The Hourglass and ask for a special tea, but she couldn’t let anyone else see her humiliation. Especially when Cordelia had brought it on herself.

  How could she have been so foolish to think that after a few conversations and a waltz that Bentford would possibly see her as anything more than a neighbor? Gentlemen like him didn’t court someone who was unremarkable. They were attracted to a diamond of the first water, wealthy and beautiful ladies, or heiresses. While Cordelia’s family was well respected, there was absolutely nothing special about her and she’d been foolish enough to think she was falling in love.

  What a ninny she was.

  She behaved no differently than those misses who sighed and sometimes fainted when the most handsome lord in the room glanced their way. Cordelia truly thought she had more sense, which she clearly did not.

  Therefore, once she’d recovered from this slight misstep, she would return to being sensible and would never allow this to happen again.

  At the pounding on her chamber door, Cordelia let out a groan. Only one person knew that she had come here to rest. “Go away, Edward,” she called.

  “It’s me,” Adriana said.

  “Come in.” Was she to have no peace?

  “Lady Chandos is here and asking for you.”

  “Tell her that I have a headache.” Cordelia rolled away, putting her back to the door.

  “She says that it is imperative that you visit with Ianthe today and grew concerned when you didn’t respond to her missive.”

  That had not been well done of her. Instead of sending regrets, Cordelia had ignored the message.

  “She says that Ianthe is overly distraught and cannot be calmed.”

  Why did it have to be her? Why couldn’t Lady Chandos assist her granddaughter?

  Cordelia suddenly sat up. Lady Chandos was not supposed to leave Nightshade Manor. To do so could bring danger to her.

  Ianthe must truly be distraught for Lady Chandos to risk herself.

  “Tell her I’ll be by shortly to assist Ianthe, but that I need to repair my appearance first.”

  Chapter 20

  Damon did not wait outside for Cordelia as he feared she’d leave if she saw him. However, he would speak to her before she left. He needed to make her understand that she’d been mistaken by what she’d seen. Unfortunately, he’d also need to tell her that his fate had been determined when he’d been born a Norcott male, and then apologize. He shouldn’t have flirted. He shouldn’t have teased and he sure as hell should not have waltzed.

  She was the one he wanted, but Cordelia could never be his.

  It was fitting. He’d decided three years ago not to wed until the last of his nieces had entered Society. Then along comes one miss who could alter his plans completely and he cannot have her. Nor did he have the luxury of waiting so long. Not if he wished to be fair to his mother.

  His heart ached. Damon hadn’t realized how attached he’d become to Cordelia until he was told she could not be his.

  Of course, maybe he was only experiencing these pangs because he’d been told no.

  Except, he’d been rejected before, and the only emotion he ever felt was a bit of disappointment. Disappointment didn’t even begin to describe the loss—as if there was now a hole in his soul that could only be filled with one person.

  Damon hoped Cordelia understood and didn’t hate him, though he might if he were in her place.

  Unless he imagined there was something growing between them. It wasn’t like they’d shared a kiss—just secrets. He trusted her in a world where he could trust nobody outside of his family.

  His heart began a heavy steady hammering the moment she appeared beside the bushes that sheltered the back gate, followed by a heaviness in his chest and Damon stood at the window and watched while she and Ianthe went through the witches’ calm. When they were coming to the end, and while her eyes were closed, arms out and face tipped to the sun, he exited the manor and quietly walked to the small patch of wildflowers, stood at the edge and waited beside Edward who also watched.