They’d have no choice any more than he did. But if either of his cousins came to him and said they were to marry, he would ask what happened when he kissed her. It was only fair to make certain they were not making a mistake. But until that time, he’d say nothing.

  Damon frowned as Nephele came skipping from the grove. She was too young to be in there alone. “What were you doing?” he asked.

  “Speaking to the lady.”

  “There is a lady in the grove?” Orion asked with humor.

  “Yes, and she’s very pretty. We visit often.”

  “You are not to go into the grove without someone being with you so that you don’t get lost,” Damon reminded his niece.

  “I won’t get lost, Uncle Damon. The lady wouldn’t let me.”

  He really wished to enjoy his wedding day, but how could he do so if there was a lady in the grove who visited with his niece often.

  He took a step forward. “Take me to her.”

  Orion put a hand on his chest. “I will go. You already have your own pretty lady.” He grinned.

  Damon really didn’t wish to leave Cordelia’s side and frankly, wished everyone would leave, but that wouldn’t happen for hours.

  “I will be fine, as well as Nephele,” Orion assured him. “I’ll find the lady and learn what she is about.”

  It was likely a guest or could very easily be Nephele’s imagination. She was often making up stories and had a playmate when she was younger that nobody ever saw. With those memories, Damon relaxed. Orion would see to Nephele, and all would be well.

  “Pierce,” Damon’s aunt called to which his cousin cringed. “I would like you to come and meet someone.”

  “You better go meet your witch.” Damon chuckled.

  Pierce nearly growled then turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Damon alone with Cordelia.

  “I wish everyone would leave,” he told her.

  “They won’t for hours.”

  “What if I don’t wish to wait for hours?”

  She looked up at him all innocent. “For what, dear husband?”

  She knew very well why he was anxious for the night and that he could not wait to get her into his bed. They’d already explored. Or, he had, because he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her when the time came. Damon would never forget the first time she’d splintered in his arms as he brought her to release. It had been beneath a full moon, and they’d been in the back of his mother’s garden. He’d only meant to kiss Cordelia, but passion and desire took control and he had slid a hand beneath her skirts. At first, she had objected, but soon she moaned, before he had to cover her mouth with his to silence her cries of release.

  Just thinking about that moment was enough to bring his manhood nearly to attention.

  “You know very well,” he ground out.

  Cordelia went up on her tiptoes, placing her mouth as close to his ear as possible. “My entire family is here,” she whispered. “Nobody but servants are at Hollybrook Park.”

  His manhood twitched again.

  “Unless you think we will be missed.”

  Damon grinned down at her. “I don’t care if we are.”

  With that, he took her hand and they calmly walked down the terrace, around the cove, up the small hill, through the bushes and out the gate without anyone noticing, and then ran to Hollybrook Park.

  Cordelia laughed by his side all the way there until they reached the entry off the sitting room. She put a finger to her lips for him to be quiet then slipped inside and Damon followed, only to be brought up short to find the butler standing there.

  “Lady Lynwood anticipated that you would like a rest after such a trying day and before the ball this evening. Refreshments have been left in your set of rooms, Lady Bentford.”

  That was the first time Damon had heard Cordelia addressed as such and he liked it very much.

  “Lady Lynwood only requests that you return by seven, put to rights, so that she does not need to come up with a reason for your absence.”

  Damon glanced at the clock. He had two full hours in which he would have Cordelia all to himself.

  “We will return on time,” Damon said. “My wife only needs a short rest.”

  “I am certain she does,” the butler said with all seriousness.

  “Thank you, Alfred,” Cordelia said as she took Damon’s hand and pulled him from the sitting room.

  Thank goodness she did because Damon felt very awkward standing there when he and the butler both knew why they’d escaped from Nightshade.

  Cordelia led him up the stairs. He wished she’d hurry, though understood why she didn’t with servants about.

  “Who do you think the lady in the grove is,” she asked as she turned down a corridor.

  Damon had forgotten about the lady Nephele had mentioned. “I’m certain it is unimportant.”

  Cordelia stopped at a closed door. “And she can tell us all about it tomorrow.”

  “Is this your set of rooms?” Damon asked.

  Cordelia nodded and grinned.

  “Then what are we waiting for?” He opened the door and swept her up in his arms. “You do need your rest.” He kicked the door shut then crossed the room and nearly tossed Cordelia onto the bed and came down over her.

  “I don’t think you are going to allow me much rest.”

  “In that, you are correct,” he promised before leaning forward and kissing her with the passion he’d been holding back since she had agreed to be his.

  Thank you

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  Excerpt: Her Gypsy Lord

  (Magic & Mayhem Series – Book #1)

  Her Gypsy Lord

  Copyright © 2017 by Jane Charles

  Cover Design by Lily Smith

  * * *

  Castle Keyvnor, Cornwall ~ October, 1811

  * * *

  Lady Charlotte Beck took a step back and glanced at the door. She could make her escape and nobody would notice. Certainly not her father, who often forgot he even had a daughter when her older brothers were in the room.

  The oldest, Anthony, Viscount Redgrave, lounged against a settee, a smirk upon his lips. Anthony enjoyed whenever Michael, the third born, was called on the carpet by their father.

  The two brothers were as different as night and day, and had been since the moment of birth. Or so she suspected since she was seven years younger than her eldest brother. Anthony had always been the perfect son. He probably hadn’t ever cried as an infant and, more than likely, slept through the night from the start. Michael, on the other hand, probably started flirting with the nursery maid when he was only an hour old. And then there was Harry, the second born, who had recently returned from the Navy. He sat upright in his chair, watching the scene with great curiosity.

  Or perhaps it was boredom. Harry left when Charlotte was only seven years old, and she didn’t really know him. She still was not certain if he was friend or foe.

  Anthony and Michael were certainly foes. But for all of their differences, there was one topic in which they were in full agreement—any gentleman who might even glance in Charlotte’s direction was to be discouraged, then investigated. With those two always near, and glaring, it was a wonder any gentleman even bothered to sign her dance cards last season.

  “Explain to me why St. Giles, Blackwater, and Ashbrook are at Castle Keyvnor,” her father, Marquess of Halesworth, demanded of Michael. The gentlemen were some of Michael’s closest friends, and it really hadn’t surprised Charlotte that the trio had traveled to Cornwall with her brother.

  “They were with me in Newmarket when you ordered me here.”

  “So you invited them?” His irate tone prompted Charlotte to edge closer to the exit. She caught Harry’s eye, and if she wasn’t mistaken, his lips quirked ever so slightly.

  “Not so much invited,” Michael hedged. “Devon Lancaster is here too, and he wasn’t invited either.”

  “You do realize this gathering is for the reading of a will. Not a house party!” their father roared.

  “I don’t even understand why it’s necessary for all of us to be present,” Michael complained. “Banfield was Mother’s uncle, surely whatever was left to her is but a token and does not require the entire family to be present.”

  If Father could breathe fire, it would surely be coming from his mouth and nose this very instant. At the very least, as red as his face had suddenly become, smoke should be coming from his ears.

  Anthony’s smile broadened, Harry came to his feet and reached for his cane, and Charlotte slipped out of the room. Father’s temper was only going to get hotter, and she preferred to be far away.

  A sigh escaped as she exited into the corridor, glad to be rid of her family and excited to be at Castle Keyvnor for the next sennight. Here she wouldn’t be watched nearly as closely as she had been anywhere else. Other than the four uninvited gentlemen, everyone else in attendance was some form of relation, no matter how distant. Not that she had cause to be worried about Lords St. Giles, Blackwater, Ashbrook, or Mr. Lancaster. Other than standing up with her on occasion at balls, none had ever showed her any interest, and she certainly had none in them.

  “One would think those two would have grown up, at least somewhat, during my absence.”

  A smile blossomed as Charlotte turned to find Harry behind her. Finally, someone who found Anthony and Michael as irritating and obnoxious as she did.

  “Tell me, do either of them ever approach anything with any respect or seriousness?”

  He planted his feet and put his hands behind his back--the stance of an officer used to being on the deck of a ship and ordering others about. Oh, she hoped he’d share stories of daring and danger with her one day, but they’d barely spoken since his return.

  “Anthony can be very serious, downright stuffy even. However, when Michael is in trouble, he quickly reverts to a child.”

  Harry’s frown deepened. “I’d heard Michael had a certain reputation. I’d hoped I had heard wrong.”

  “Oh, he does.” She laughed. “A rake of the first order. Or, at least when I’m not around. If he’s tasked with escorting me, then he becomes the most protective chaperone to ever grace London.”

  Harry gestured ahead and they moved further down the corridor, away from the parlor where the argument between Michael and their father was getting louder by the moment. There were times Harry leaned heavily on his cane, and at other times, like now, it was nothing more than an accessory, yet it was always with him.

  Charlotte hated that he was in pain but was so grateful he was home with said leg intact. From what she understood, it had been a close as to whether the surgeon would allow him to keep it.

  A shiver ran down her spine at the danger her brother put himself in for King and Country. She’d been too young to really understand where he went, but after Father showed her his name in the newssheets, Charlotte had saved every article where he’d been mentioned and wasn’t above bragging about him when she could.

  Oh, if only she could experience just an ounce of the adventure Harry had. Charlotte nearly sighed. Adventure was well and good and something she craved, though she didn’t exactly wish to put herself in danger either. Unlike Harry, who faced it head on even when the odds were against him.

  “You are one and twenty, correct?”

  “Yes and directly on a path to spinsterhood if those two have their way.”

  “You know, my first night back the three of us spoke—actually they spoke, and I listened—about all the things they felt I needed to understand. One of those ‘things’ was you.”

  Oh dear. Maybe Harry was a foe after all.

  “They warned me that you are much too curious for your own good, that you need to be watched, and that left to your own devices, you might go off somewhere and find yourself in all kinds of trouble.”

  I’m going to kill them both the first chance I have.

  “I feared that perhaps you were the one who hadn’t grown up and were still very much the seven-year-old that I left behind.”

  “Please, Harry,” she begged. “I’ve enough of our family treating me as a child.”

  “As well you should.” He stood back and took a good look at Charlotte. Admiration shone in his deep brown eyes. “What I see is a woman who knows her own mind, intelligent, and sensible.”

  Relief flowed through her. Finally, a family member who wouldn’t hover. “Why can’t you stay here and send Anthony and Michael off to the Navy?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “My dear Charlotte. They’d not last a fortnight, which would result in me becoming the heir and that would never do.”

  Charlotte reached out and took his hands in hers. “I hope you’re home for a while and that we can spend more time together.”

  His smile softened. “Perhaps. We shall have to see how this leg of mine progresses.”

  Michael stormed out of the parlor and headed towards them.

  Harry pulled away from Charlotte. “Well, I’m off to explore the grounds of this supposedly haunted castle.”

  She intended to disappear just as quickly. That last thing Charlotte wanted to do was hear Michael complain about their father. “Do warn me if you come across any ghosts.”

  Harry chuckled. “You and I both know that is not likely to happen,” he called back as he headed toward the large castle door and Charlotte ducked into the sitting room.

  “Oh, Harry, why couldn’t you have come back sooner?”

  However, she was happy he was here now. If anything, it would make being with her other brothers immensely more bearable.

  With a grin, Charlotte twirled around in the center of the room. The history of this gothic castle fascinated her, even if the stories were a bit embellished. She certainly believed people had been executed and witches burned, not that they were really witches of course. Gruesome events had transpired all throughout history, so it wasn’t surprising that some horrific things happened here. But, what was truly entertaining was that people actually believed there were still ghosts, fairies, and witches about. And, even better, apparently a band of gypsies actually lived on Banfield land.

  There was so much to explore, and she couldn’t wait. But first, she must know where to find the gypsies. She could have asked Harry to keep an eye out for them while he was exploring, but she wanted to keep his good opinion of her and not make him question if Anthony and Michael were correct and that she lacked sensibilities.

  Not that she believed in curses or fortune telling or any of that nonsense, but it would be delightfully fun to have her fortune told just the same. Would they use a crystal ball? Cards? Read the lines on her hands?

  “Why in the world is Lord St. Giles here?” Lady Cassandra Priske, her cousin, entered the room and dropped onto a settee across from Charlotte. Oscar, her cousin’s bothersome black poodle, hopped up beside his owner. Had she known Cassy was bringing Oscar, Charlotte might have brought Princess, her black cat, who thoroughly enjoyed chasing the yappy dog.

  “Michael said he invited himself. No idea why he’d want to be here if he didn’t have to be.” However, she couldn’t complain of his presence or that of any of Michael’s friends since they would keep her brother occupied. It was a shame Anthony hadn’t brought a friend as well, then she’d have all the freedom she needed.

  A breeze swept through the room and goose pimples popped out on Charlotte’s arms just as Oscar barked and stood at attention. She may adore old castles, but they could be downright chilly at times.

  “Heavens!” Cassy exclaimed.

  One would have thought Princess just sauntered into the room by the way that dog was behaving. “What’s wrong with Oscar?”

  Cassy blinked at her cousin. “Didn’t you feel that?”

  Charlotte frowned slightly. “Feel what?”

  “Like a breeze or a wind blow through the sitting room?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “It’s an old castle. All the rooms are drafty.”

  Oscar barked again, much to Charlotte’s irritation. If she could figure out a way to muzzle that dog, she would.

  “Ahem!” Someone cleared her throat in the threshold and Charlotte glanced up to find the stern housekeeper frowning at them. “We do not have animals on the furniture at Castle Keyvnor.”

  “Oh!” Cassy snatched Oscar up in her arms and he nestled against her chest.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Bray,” Charlotte said. “We didn’t know.”

  The woman narrowed her eyes on Cassy. “Well, now you do.”

  Now was not the time to upset the housekeeper since there was still so much Charlotte needed to learn. She pushed out of her seat and gave the woman what she hoped was a kind and apologetic smile. “Um, Mrs. Bray, I wonder if you could answer a question for me.”