Normally Edward would acknowledge him with a nod. Today he glared.

  The lad may fight with his older sister, but if Edward suspected that Cordelia had been hurt by Damon, he’d immediately come to her defense.

  It was an admirable trait and spoke well of the maturity Edward sometimes lacked.

  Cordelia blew out a long breath then let her arms drift to her side, opened her eyes and looked down at Ianthe.

  “Do you feel better now?”

  “Yes, Miss Cordelia. Thank you.”

  She leaned forward. “I do too.”

  “Good afternoon, Cordelia,” Bentford greeted.

  She immediately stiffened, closed her eyes, and slowly stood. He’d not seen her so rigid before, nor had she ever schooled her features as she did now. “Lord Bentford,” she returned in a cool, crisp tone.

  “Please, walk with me?”

  “Thank you, but I must return home.”

  “I only ask for a few moments.”

  “Very well.” She drew back her shoulders and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

  Bentford didn’t say anything at first but led her toward the back of the manor and then crossed the lower terrace until he reached the edge of his mother’s garden. Here they could not be heard, though Ianthe and Edward watched from afar. Edward still scowled while Ianthe frowned in curiosity.

  “I wish to explain.”

  “Explain?” she questioned with a confused frown.

  Was she going to pretend he’d not been kissed by another?

  “What you may have seen yesterday.”

  “The snow was rather a surprise. I’ve rarely seen it in the winter, let alone summer.”

  “You know that is not what I mean.”

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t have kissed Miss Perkins where you could be seen if you are concerned with what others may think.”

  He was almost convinced that Cordelia didn’t care, but she was too formal. Too cold and in complete contrast to what she’d been since they first met only a few days ago.

  A few days! He’d known her such a short time. Was this the true Cordelia and had the other been false?

  No. There was a hint of pain in her cornflower blue eyes, and she was trying to pretend that what they’d shared meant nothing at all.

  “I wish to explain what you may have seen yesterday.”

  “You owe me no explanation, Lord Bentford.”

  “The kiss. She kissed me. I did not kiss her.”

  “It matters not who kissed whom,” Cordelia said. “You are free to pursue whomever you wish. It is not as if we are courting.”

  No, they weren’t.

  He never got a chance to do so.

  “There was only one woman that I wished to kiss yesterday, and that was you,” he confessed.

  “Yet, you didn’t,” Cornelia reminded him.

  “Because it wouldn’t be right, nor fair to you.”

  Cordelia expected him to attempt to make excuses for his behavior, as rakes and rogues often do, but she didn’t understand why he would say it would be unfair to her. “I don’t understand.”

  “I am not free,” he finally said.

  Why would he waltz with her if he was already attached to someone?

  She returned to her belief that he was, indeed, a rogue of the first order.

  That dance was considered risqué and improper by many matrons and to do so down a public road was skating far too close to the line that separated propriety from ruination.

  Yet she was at fault as well, for she had allowed him to do so. But she thought he was free.

  “You are betrothed?” Cordelia finally asked. She needed to know for certain.

  Except, why did he worry about his mother being a matchmaker…unless Miss Perkins.

  Bentford chuckled. “I can assure you that I am not.”

  He was making no sense. “It can’t be both. Either you are free, or you are betrothed.”

  Bentford blew out a sigh then turned to face her, taking her hands in his.

  His shoulders dropped as if they carried the weight of the world.

  “It’s always been expected that I would one day marry a witch.”

  This came as a surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t have.

  “It’s been something that I’ve been avoiding for years.” He followed the words with a sad, dry chuckle, and her heart began to soften, though she wouldn’t allow it to do so.

  “Witches need to be protected. When one marries, it should be with someone who is not frightened of them, or someone from whom they do not need to hide their ability. Norcott and Drakos men are never witches, but our mothers and sisters are, so for generations, we’ve always married a witch to offer that protection.”

  “I understand.” And she did. She’d heard the stories of witchfinders when she was a child and it wasn’t all that long ago, only three years, that Ianthe had lost her parents in the same manner. It was difficult enough to marry, but much more so if one needed to hide a part of themselves from their spouse. “I assume Miss Perkins is a witch.”

  “I cannot tell you that.”

  “I saw the snow over your head.”

  “Yes, well, you may presume as you wish.” He smiled. “I feel it is my duty to marry a witch, who is not Miss Perkins. It is expected of me.”

  “Even if there is a chance that you won’t be happy?”

  “Yes, because I hope for the same for my sisters. I would have them protected more than in love with a gentleman who might one day fear or hurt them if they ever learned.”

  As much as this conversation pained Cordelia, she had to respect his decision.

  “However, I had not counted on meeting you. Nor did I expect to feel so strongly for another in such a short span of time.”

  They could have finished this conversation without him having said that to her. It brought forth the loss she’d suffered yesterday. At the first prick of tears, she blinked and looked away until the urge to cry passed.

  “If you were a witch, my decision would be an easy one.”

  That may be the nicest thing he could say. It wasn’t a declaration, but close enough. And the fact that she was being rejected only because she didn’t possess magical powers took some of the sting away. Though it also reminded her that she was nothing special. Simply normal.

  “And though I know it isn’t right, I do want to know what it is like to kiss you.”

  Cordelia stared up at him. Should she allow him to do so? Would it only make her long for more even though she knew that it was impossible? But if she didn’t allow this, she would always wonder and that could be worse.

  “I would like to know as well,” she finally said.

  With those words, Bentford bent and cradled her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers. It was a gentle, loving kiss and Cordelia was certain her heart melted as tears flooded her eyes.

  He then tilted his head, brushed the seam of her lips. She parted and he delved.

  Goodness! Not only had her heart melted, but her entire being was becoming warm, and her limbs grew limp. Cordelia grasped his arms for fear her knees would give out. Though perhaps not. Something was wrapping itself around her legs and climbing over her hips. Startled and in fear there was a snake, she broke the kiss and looked down only to discover that flowering vines had grown and wrapped around her and Bentford and they were climbing up their bodies.

  “Make them stop,” she said in a panic.

  Bentford simply laughed and gently pushed them down, as if on his command they ceased growing. Yet, they were wrapped tightly together and if anyone came upon them right now, she’d be completely ruined.

  “Our fate has been sealed,” he murmured and kissed her again.

  “Fate, what fate?”

  “Flowering vines will be your answer,” he said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s what Brighid said to me that day. She sensed my turmoil to duty and wanting you.”

  Cordelia’s mouth popped open. She’d dismissed the statement because witches and gypsies often said things that had no meaning.

  “She also said, You believe you want one thing when it is another that you need.”

  “What did you believe you wanted?”

  “I wanted to honor my family.”

  Cordelia glanced down at the vines still woven about their lower bodies. “Are you certain you are not the sorcerer, Lord Bentford.”

  “Damon. Call me by my name.”

  “Are you certain you are not a sorcerer or warlock, Damon?” He had to be. Vines don’t simply grow like this unless there is a witch about.

  “I can assure you that I am not.” He grinned. “However, you are the one who has bewitched me.”

  Before Cordelia could respond, he was kissing her again and she no longer cared that they were being held in place by flowers. She was in Damon’s arms, and he was kissing her and if his words meant what she thought, then he wouldn’t be marrying a witch either.

  Chapter 21

  At the gasp from somewhere beyond, Damon broke the kiss and looked up to find his mother, Miss Perkins, Ianthe and Edward standing there and gawking at them.

  “Did you do this, Ianthe?” Miss Perkins demanded.

  His niece’s eyes widened. “I can only make insects appear,” she defended. “Will I be able to do that?”

  “No dear,” his mother chuckled. “It is a gift to Drakos men.”

  “Gift? From whom?” Miss Perkins asked.

  Damon shouldn’t be pleased that Miss Perkins was upset, but he was. She’d tried to trick him into marrying her and for that, he had lost all trust in her.

  “Gaia, Mother Nature, the Goddess of the earth,” his mother said. “She goes by many names.”

  “The goddess?” Cordelia sucked in a breath.

  “Yes,” his mother answered. “The women had the magical powers, but the men should have one gift, which she bestowed upon them. When he kisses the mate of his soul, flowers will grow.”

  “Why have I never heard of this before?” Damon asked. It would have certainly made matters far easier. Though, it may have led him to go about kissing every woman for whom he felt an attraction, which might not have been the best way to achieve his goal since not only would his reputation suffer, but he may have accidentally compromised someone and then never have found Cordelia.

  “It’s a secret we hold close. Had you come to declare your heart for Cordelia, my first question would have been about flowering vines. Had you not known what I meant, then I would have discouraged the match.”

  “Evander?”

  “He learned when he stood just as you.” His mother then came forward and gently touched a bud and the vines pulled away and climbed along the bench where they rested.

  “Now Cordelia will know which question to first ask her sons when their time comes.”

  Cordelia stepped away from him and put a hand on her chest. “This is all rather much.”

  “But it snowed on us.”

  His mother’s jaw grew tight when she turned to Miss Perkins. “That was of your own making.”

  “It was—”

  His mother held up her hand to stop Miss Perkins from speaking further. “You were seen.”

  “Yes… but…” Miss Perkins struggled to find an excuse. “She is not even a witch.”

  “Regardless, it is who nature has chosen.”

  “She has.” Damon looked down to Cordelia. If anyone would have told him that he’d decide to marry a woman within a week of meeting her, he would have called them daft and Bedlam bound, but that was before he had met Cordelia.

  “Thank goodness I did not kiss you yesterday on the road to Bocka Morrow because we would have looked quite ridiculous stuck until someone summoned my mother.” He couldn’t help but laugh.

  He may have laughed but Cordelia would have been embarrassed, mortified, maybe even horrified.

  She still wasn’t certain how she felt now.

  Oh, she was delighted that Damon did care for her and that he had wanted to kiss her, but this had happened so quickly.

  Wasn’t courtship supposed to move slower than this?

  What if it was a mistake?

  She was responsible, sensible. There was nothing special about her so why had she been chosen?

  “Cordelia, what is wrong?” he asked with concern.

  “I’m surprised, shocked, I…”

  “Magic doesn’t happen to her,” Edward said. “She’s just not used to it.”

  Cordelia wanted to be happy. Excited even, but everything was happening so fast. Too fast and she couldn’t form a coherent thought, especially with Damon, Lady Chandos, Miss Perkins, Ianthe and Edward all looking at her.

  A goddess had chosen her for Damon. How did one make sense of that? This wasn’t some child’s fairytale. Those vines had wrapped around her.

  Her chest started to tighten, and she recognized the panic that was starting to build. “I need to go.”

  With that, she turned from Damon and hurried to the gate, ignoring him as he called after her. She had to leave before her chest and throat tightened so much that she’d not be able to breathe.

  Once she exited the gate and ran through the clearing and was on the other side, some of her anxiety began to ease, but not completely.

  Instead of going home, Cordelia knew who she must see, and took off at a run across the fields until she came to Madam Boswell’s red vardo.

  There, she collapsed onto a stool, tried to catch her breath, as tears filled her eyes.

  Why was she crying? What just happened should make her the happiest woman in England. Instead, it brought panic.

  “Child, what is it?” Madam Boswell asked with alarm as she came out of the wagon.

  Haltingly and through her tears, she told Madam Boswell everything that had happened since she first spied on the Norcott family arriving at the estate. She didn’t even hide the emotions she had experienced and by the time she had finished, Madam Boswell was patting her hand.

  “Why me?”

  “Why not you?”

  “I’m not special. There is nothing remarkable about me.”

  “Oh, Cordelia, yes there is. You have a deep gift of caring and protection and love.”

  “As does everyone.”

  “No, they don’t. You are also selfless.”

  “No, I am not, I can assure you. There are many times I am selfish and jealous,” Cordelia promised.

  At least she was beginning to feel calmer having talked to Madam Boswell, though she still wasn’t certain what to do.

  “You are his gift, and he is yours,” she finally said.

  “It’s so fast,” Cordelia whispered.

  “Yes, it is, but I’m certain he won’t wish to rush you to the aisle. Simply knowing that it is set will give him peace of mind and it should you as well.”

  “What if I can’t make him happy?”

  “You would not have been chosen if that was the case. You only need time to come to the truth and be comfortable with what is to be and then you will see that the goddess does not make an error.”

  She could just imagine what her family would think. The fact that she found her future husband through magic would come as no surprise to her sisters. “Adriana is going to be more determined to find her merman now,” Cordelia sighed. “I’ve tried to tell her that it was probably a man, but she has such fanciful notions and I’m not certain what to do.”

  And her brother, Edward. He’d seen her kissing Damon. “Edward, what to do about him? Adam never disciplines. He’ll end up being a pirate if I’m not there.”

  “Neither Adriana nor Edward are your responsibility,” Madam Boswell said.

  “I know, but my mother is never here, and Adam has his own child. Somebody needs to watch over them.”

  “And that will be Adam. It is no longer you and it never should have been.”

  “I suppose it’s my personality. No wonder I am boring.”

  “You are hardly boring Cordelia.”

  She nearly jumped at Damon’s voice.

  She ran away because she needed to think. But she was calmer now and he deserved an explanation.

  Cordelia stood and faced him. “Would you please escort me home?”

  “Yes, of course.” He offered his arm but the concern in his brown eyes was nearly her undoing. She hoped that she hadn’t hurt him. That had not been her intention.

  “I am sorry that I ran,” she said first. “It was all so…so…”

  “Much,” he finished for her. “It took me by surprise as well, but I am not sorry for it.”

  She looked up at him. “I’ve only known you a sennight.”

  “I know, which is why there is no need to rush.”

  “There isn’t?”

  “Just because Gaia has revealed you to me and me to you, doesn’t mean that we have to rush to a vicar.”

  She blew out a sigh.

  “We will take time and come to know each other and when it feels right, we will marry.”

  “You don’t mind waiting?”

  “No,” he assured her. “Until recently, I had not planned on marrying for another ten years.” He laughed. “Everything changed with you.”

  “Maybe in time you can even come to love me. I’d like for us to be happy.”

  Damon just stared at her. “I’ve already started to fall in love with you. I realized that yesterday but thought it too soon.”

  Cordelia’s lips quirked with amusement. “Yesterday I also thought I was falling in love. Then I saw your kiss and my heart shattered. That is when I realized that I’d foolishly allowed myself to become vulnerable. I’m usually more sensible. Now the vines. It’s really too much.” She stopped and looked up at him. “I need time to adjust to all of this,” she laughed lightly.