As he drew near, Orion leaned forward. “You are wearing shoes,” he whispered.

  “It is only proper,” she returned also in a low voice.

  “And that dress, so…”

  “Fashionable,” she provided.

  “Not you,” he corrected. “I like the clothing you have fashioned yourself.”

  Her cheeks slightly colored. “Yes, well, if I am not going to live in the grove, I should do my best to conform to what is proper.”

  “Please, do not conform too much,” he said as he dropped to one knee.

  Nina’s grey eyes, more silver today, widened. “What are you doing?” Her eyes darted, looking about as her cheeks grew redder.

  Orion lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Nina Jourdain, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

  Her eyes watered as she smiled. “I would, but…”

  His heart sank. “But what?”

  “What if I am no longer the one chosen for you. What if it was only because of the grove, our own connections to it?”

  It was something that he had considered, yet it didn’t matter. But, if proof is what Nina needed, then he would provide it.

  Coming to his feet, Orion cradled her soft cheek and leaned in to kiss her, then quickly glanced out of the corner of his eye.

  No vines.

  Perhaps the kiss hadn’t been long enough, just as it hadn’t been in the past because no flowers had bloomed.

  “There is nothing,” she said quietly, worry heavy in her tone.

  “Yet,” Orion said and kissed her again. He didn’t care that her brother, his sister, and five dryads stood not far away, because he needed to offer Nina proof that nothing had changed. His proof was in his heart, she just needed to know that it was true as well.

  Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss. When her hands came to rest on his shoulders, he put his hands on her waist and drew her as close as he dared, given their witnesses.

  Nina may have hesitated in the past, but today she joined him in matching his desire and passion and for the first time, did not push him away.

  If they were alone, he’d sweep her up in his arms and take her back to her home for the past twenty years. It was only because Cassian stood not far away that Orion only kissed Nina.

  “Are those vines?” Petra asked from behind him. “Those vines are wrapping around their legs.” His sister was in a near panic and Orion couldn’t be happier.

  He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Nina. “Have all doubts been satisfied?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why are there vines?” Petra demanded.

  Orion laughed. “I will let Mother explain.”

  Epilogue

  Nine months he had to wait. Nine long, agonizing months, but the day had finally arrived.

  When Orion and Nina had announced their intention to wed, his mother and father had first been thrilled, then quickly put a halt to any immediate wedding plans.

  It’s not that they doubted that Orion and Nina should wed, there were vines after all. They did not think it was fair that Nina not experience life outside of the grove as any other available miss before she became a wife.

  They had both argued, but his parents were adamant.

  Orion had assumed that the family would travel to London and Nina would be taken shopping, attend the theatre, and attend a few balls that may be held and then they could marry.

  That had not turned out to be the case. His parents insisted that Nina enjoy a full Season, which included meeting and dancing with eligible bachelors. They wouldn’t even let it be known that she was already betrothed because they wanted Nina to experience everything any miss would during her first Season.

  Worse, she had not resided with his parents, brother and sister, or Orion in their Mayfair townhouse. His mother didn’t trust Orion sleeping under the same roof, so Nina had resided with his cousins and Cassian in the Cardwell townhouse.

  Those months had tried his patience and tested him in ways Orion didn’t think he would survive.

  Dandies flocked to her side and her dance card filled early in the evening. There were even times that he wasn’t given a dance.

  The whole situation was outrageous.

  Yet, he also enjoyed seeing Nina happy, laughing, and smiling, even when she partnered a rogue during a country dance or a rake for a waltz. While she basked in the attention, she looked his way often enough and her eyes would be nearly silver in the candlelight as she sent him a sweet smile.

  She enjoyed being courted, but never let him ever worry that he would not have her in the end.

  Orion still wasn’t certain if his parents insisted on Nina having a Season to punish him for sneaking into the sacred grove or they really wanted to give Nina an experience of London as a miss before she became a wife.

  None of that mattered now because they were soon to wed by Special License.

  “It will soon be time,” his mother announced as she came into the library where Orion was trying desperately not to pace because that would reveal how nervous he was of wedding Nina.

  Not nervous, excited. They just needed to get through the blasted ceremony, then celebration and then he would sweep her away to the cottage in the grove. Tomorrow they would travel to Plymouth where they would take a ship to Vannes, France. Nina had not been there since she was a child and wanted to meet her mother’s family and visit the home where she had spent the first four years of her life. Had Napoleon not been sent to Elba, they would not be making the trip. Thankfully, the war on the Continent was over, which made the travel to France possible.

  “Why did you insist on the wedding being so late in the day,” he asked, having never gotten a true answer from his mother. More often than not, she simply shrugged.

  “I am soon to marry her, so can I at least now know?”

  “Because there is no better time to wed than when the sun is beginning to set.”

  “It will grow dark quickly,” he reminded her.

  “No, dear. The preparations made will ensure that all will be seen, and it will be magical.”

  His gut tightened. “What do you mean magical?”

  She chuckled. “I may have had a hand in the planning, but it is the dryads and others who live in the sacred grove that created the setting.”

  “What others?”

  She smiled at him in humor. “Certainly, you know that not only dryads live here, but other magical creatures. Further, there are several witches who have assisted in making this night perfect.”

  He had no idea what other magic existed at Nightshade Manor—another mystery to one day explore. What mattered was that the time neared for him to finally make Nina his bride.

  “It is time,” his father announced, and Orion blew out a breath. Soon, Nina would be his.

  However, when he stepped out onto the terrace, no preparations had been made at all. He had been told that the wedding would occur outdoors so that the dryads could be in attendance.

  “The orchard,” his father said.

  Why would they be married there?

  Orion didn’t voice his question, and followed his father around the side of the mansion until they reached the end of the orchard and he nearly sucked in a breath. The trees were alight with lanterns and fireflies. His family and dryads were stationed along a long path with an aisle of nature, bedecked in flowers, vines, beauty and light that led to Nina, standing with Cassian at the opposite end.

  For but a moment, Orion nearly forgot to breathe. Her hair was down about her shoulders, and the dress she wore was all her from the skirt of pinks, golds and blue to the cream bodice and lace sleeves. Further, she was barefoot.

  Their eyes met as she took her first step toward him, and Orion’s heart filled with so much love he was certain it might very well explode. Everything he ever dreamed or wanted was walking toward him. He vowed to make up for the years she’d been alone and make Nina as happy as any person could be while loving her with his whole heart.

  Thank you

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  Excerpt: The Vanishing Viscount

  The Witches’ Ball #1

  (Magic & Mystery #2)

  © 2023 by Jane Charles

  Blackthorn Park, Surrey, England ~ October, 1814

  * * *

  The Right Honorable Earl and Countess of Lonsdale,

  * * *

  You are cordially invited to a ball to be held a Nightshade Manor, Bocka Morrow, Cornwall, hosted by the Earl and Countess of Wharton on the thirty-first of October, 1814. It promises to be a magical evening.

  * * *

  P.S.

  My Dearest Friend, Louise,

  As you may suspect, and as we have discussed so many times during the Season, it is time our children wed. This ball is being held for that purpose and the only guests invited are those who would merge well with our families and accept the eccentricities we share and thus would not be alarmed by some of our activities. I do look forward to seeing you again and hopefully by next Season some of our children will finally have married.

  Your Friend,

  Iris

  Lady Clara Westcott fell in love with Pierce Drakos, Viscount Harcourt, at the age of fifteen. He was five years older and barely noticed her.

  Complicating matters further, he was a close friend to her brother, Reese. Harcourt and his cousin, Viscount Chedworth, also present, were among the few friends that were allowed to visit for any extended period. The reason—each member of Clara’s family was a witch. Neither Harcourt nor Chedworth were. However, the females in their families were witches, therefore, if anything magical were to happen in their presence, they would not be alarmed. The same could not be said for the rest of Society or most of the friends the three gentlemen had made while attending school.

  That first sennight of their visit was quite pleasant as she had been able to quietly observe Harcourt, listen to him speak, and enjoy his laughter. He was very handsome with warm brown eyes and dark hair, and each time he was near, her heart gave a little skip and butterflies took flight in her stomach. Not that he noticed her as Clara was too timid to speak in his presence, but she had certainly noticed him.

  That summer of 1807 had been so lovely—until it wasn't.

  Clara still wasn't certain how everything went wrong on that July day, but it had.

  It had been uncommonly warm, and she had been strolling around the lake on her way to the gazebo. It had been her intention to read within as it was sheltered under a canopy of trees, shielded from the sun, and always offered a slight breeze. She was just nearing the footbridge over the narrowest part of the water when she noted a pile of clothing. It took only a moment to realize that they belonged to gentlemen and quickly assumed that her brother, Harcourt and Chedworth had decided to take a swim. She would have loved to slip into the cool water as well, but that would have been improper. Her brother, however, had no difficulty stripping down in the middle of the day where anyone could come upon him.

  That was when she saw Harcourt break the surface after being under the water. His black, wet hair dripped onto his naked shoulders and droplets covered his bare chest.

  Clara sucked in a breath as a wave of warmth rushed over her body that had nothing to do with heat of the day.

  Goodness, she should not be looking, but Clara could not tear her eyes away.

  He then lifted his arms over his head, flattened his palms together, then dove under the water and offered her the quickest glimpse of his pale backside. She’d not expected it to be so firm, nearly sculpted.

  Clara had quickly looked away out of fear that she might witness Chedworth, or worse, her brother, in a similar state of undress and that was something she never wanted to see. However, viewing Hardcourt was not at all disturbing. If she could be assured that she’d not be caught, Clara would have kept watching.

  Didn’t they realize that anyone could come across them? Female servants passed this way several times a day.

  “They cannot be here.”

  In a blink, the clothing was gone.

  “Oh, dear!” She should have been more specific. Clara meant that her brother and his friends should not be where anyone could see, not the clothing, and she certainly didn’t mean for anything to disappear. But seeing Harcourt’s bare backside and naked chest had the oddest effect on her person leaving her a little more flustered than usual.

  “Bring them back.”

  The clothing did not reappear.

  Her heart started to pound, and she quickly glanced to the water in time to see Harcourt once again emerge. Thankfully his back was to her because she didn’t know what she’d do if he saw her.

  “Bring them back,” she said with a little more force.

  Her hands shook and her pulse raced. Clara closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm herself. She knew better than anyone that the more flustered she became, the less predictable her magic. Though mistakes such as this had not happened for nearly three years.

  She blew out a long steadying breath. “Bring them back.”

  Nothing! When her brother called to Harcourt that they should go for a ride, Clara thought her heart was going to leap out of her chest.

  “Bring them back.”

  Nothing.

  Harcourt was now swimming toward her but had not yet seen her. Her brother then swam out from under the branches of a willow tree and there was nothing she could do.

  Concentrating on her words and to who her magic was directed, she said, “Send them to their chambers.” An instant later both Harcourt and her brother were gone. She had assumed Chedworth was as well, though she hadn’t seen him.

  That was when she heard laughter and slowly turned to spy Chedworth on the narrow bridge. How much had he witnessed? Did she want to know?

  The heat to embarrassment swept through her body and Clara wished the ground would just swallow her whole.

  Chedworth was still chuckling as he crossed the remainder of the footbridge and approached.

  “How much did you see?” she asked hesitantly, afraid of his answer.

  “That it is likely you saw my cousin’s backside, then your magic did not go as you planned.”

  She should just make herself disappear and not return until their guests were gone.

  “Where are they now?” he asked.

  “If I did not err, they are now in the chambers.”

  He nodded and chuckled again.

  “Please, do not say anything.”

  “I am certain that the two noticed that they were swimming one moment and in the next standing quite naked in their chamber.”

  Yes, well, that could not be helped, and it wasn’t what she meant. “Do not let on that I may have seen something that I should not have.” She would simply die if Harcourt ever learned that she had briefly glimpsed his bum. Though, it was his fault for being naked in the lake in the first place.

  “I promise that I will hold your confidence.”

  Clara had wanted to trust that Chedworth would do just that, but at the time she had not known him all that well. He had laughed at her and there was a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. Her brother often had the same look when he teased her and Clara feared that when next alone with his friends, Chedworth would tell them everything that had happened today.

  If that had been the only incident during Harcourt’s visit perhaps all would have been forgotten, but it wasn’t. Because she had feared that Chedworth would not keep his promise, Clara had been so nervous and afraid of making another magical mistake in Harcourt’s presence, it seemed that was all she did. There was the incident of the bridge disappearing just as he was crossing it. She’d been on a stroll when she noted recently pulled weeds littering the ground beside a flower bed and no gardener in sight. As she muttered, “That must go,” she unfortunately glanced over to the bridge, and her heart skipped at seeing Harcourt crossing it. Harcourt didn’t disappear, but the bridge did, and he ended up in the pond again—sadly fully clothed. The weeds remained where they were.

  Then she accidentally made the table disappear as they were taking tea and an entire plate of frosted cakes ended up in his lap, ruining his trousers.

  Later, while enjoying the evening after a filling meal, she asked if drinking enough brandy could help a person, meaning Harcourt, forget unpleasant inconveniences. This resulted in his glass overflowing and ruining his Hessian boots.

  Only Chedworth seemed to delight when these mishaps occurred.

  There were more instances during their visit and she wished that she could forget, and just as certain that Harcourt had not.