Bloody hell! Her lips were not kissable. Not any more kissable than any other lips.

  It was foolish to even consider them so, and perhaps his nieces had already driven him to madness because he’d never think of kissing an innocent miss otherwise.

  “Yes, I have, but I’ve only made the acquaintance of your parents and younger sisters,” she answered.

  That explained his not meeting her as he intentionally did not travel in the same circles.

  “Lady Larisa is a good friend to my younger sister,” she added.

  Damon frowned as he tried to recall the names of Larisa’s friends, but he rarely heard a last name.

  “Miss Adriana Vail,” Miss Cordelia offered.

  He did know that name. “Yes, I’ve heard Larisa speak often of Miss Adriana.” It was odd, he knew Miss Cordelia’s older brother, and his sister knew a younger sister, but this was the first he’d met, or even heard of, Miss Cordelia. Had he not been avoiding the entertainments where his mother might be present, they may have met before now.

  Not that it would have made a difference in how he perceived her as he had no intention of marrying, but she would not have been a stranger.

  “I believe I’ve located your niece,” Miss Cordelia offered with a frown.

  Damon looked to where she was pointing. Ianthe was standing in front of the coaching inn speaking with a boy. It was bad enough that she was twelve and gaining her powers, the last thing he needed was for her to develop a liking for boys. “Who is she with?”

  “My younger brother,” she ground out.

  Cordelia paused at the curve in the road when she noted her brother, Edward, in the stable yard of the coaching inn. It hadn’t been an inn until recently when Mr. Grayson, who managed the livery stables, converted his large cottage into Grayson Inn and Stables. It wasn’t a large inn and could only boast of six bedchambers. However, with the increase in visitors to Castle Keyvnor these past few years, and few guests willing to sleep in the haunted castle, the need for another inn was great. As the stables stood at the edge of the village, with a large yard, it became the perfect location for a coaching inn.

  Did Edward intend to travel somewhere? Was that why he carried his valise?

  Even more curious, he was speaking with Miss Ianthe, and Cordelia knew that it wasn’t possible that the two were acquainted.

  She blew out a sigh, as she was certain that she’d not like to hear what he said when she inquired what he was about.

  “Is there something that I should be aware of?” Bentford asked.

  “No,” Cordelia admitted. “Edward tests my patience.”

  “It appears he is planning to travel,” Bentford observed.

  “He is not due to return to Eton for three weeks, which begs the question of where he is off to.”

  Neither Edward nor Ianthe had noticed their approach and in truth, Cordelia had slowed her steps, putting off the confrontation.

  She really shouldn’t assume that there would be one, but this was Edward, he had a valise, so what conclusion could she draw other than he was leaving, and without permission.

  “I’m running away,” Edward announced to Ianthe.

  Miss Ianthe frowned. “Why?”

  “I want to see the world and one day captain my own ship,” he declared proudly, as if he wished to impress the girl. In fact, Edward stood taller with hands fisted on his hips, and chin out.

  “What about school?” Miss Ianthe’s frown had deepened.

  “It’s no fun,” Edward declared. “We are in classes from six in the morning until eight at night, with only a few breaks for meals and an hour a day to play at sports. When we return to our Dame’s house, we are to go straight to our rooms and remain quiet until it is time to begin the day all over again. I hate it. I want more freedom to do as I please, so I am not going back.”

  Cordelia hadn’t realized the schedule was so daunting and could well understand why Edward didn’t wish to return. His tutor had allowed him far more freedom. He may hate being at Eton, but he will be better for the experience.

  “I felt much the same about Eton when I attended,” Bentford admitted quietly.

  At least he and Edward were both given the opportunity to attend school.

  “Should we continue to spy on them or alert them to our presence?” he asked.

  “We are hardly spying,” she chuckled. “All they need to do is look around.”

  “I just think running away is stupid,” Miss Ianthe declared, to which Edward pulled back in surprise.

  “It is not.” Edward glared.

  Cordelia quickly stifled her laugh with a hand over her mouth. She shouldn’t enjoy her brother being called stupid, but she did.

  “Ah, you are one of those sisters,” Bentford observed quietly. “One that takes enjoyment when a brother is being insulted.”

  “Only when it is well deserved.” She grinned. “It’s rather gratifying to witness someone else taking him to task,” Cordelia admitted.

  “So, you intend to stand here and wait for the mail coach to take you off to London, where you hope to join the Navy? What are you going to do when they don’t take you? Live around the docks, sleep in alleys?” Miss Ianthe demanded.

  “For your information, I was going to visit the Crown and Anchor and see if one of the captains would take me on.”

  The Crown and Anchor? “He most certainly will not!” Cordelia ground out. Even though it was the local inn and public house, that was where many of the smugglers spent their time when in port and not all of them were friendly. Some were downright dangerous, and it would be just like Edward to gravitate to the worst of them. She also suspected that the women served more than ale inside but wasn’t certain.

  “What is wrong with the Crown and Anchor?” Bentford asked in a whisper.

  “Nothing,” she answered. “Unless you are a lad or a miss, then you shouldn’t cross that threshold.” She really didn’t wish to explain further and hoped Bentford understood her meaning.

  “It’s where sailors gather when in port, just down by the quay,” Edward stated with authority, though Cordelia was fairly certain he’d never been inside.

  “Boys are stupid,” Miss Ianthe announced.

  “We are not!” Edward defended.

  This may be one of the most enjoyable conversations she’d ever witnessed.

  “Stupid is being the lowly person on a ship, doing menial tasks in the hot sun for a pittance when you could be in a classroom and learning about the world, reading books and having fun.”

  “I really like your niece, Lord Bentford. She’s wise and maybe my brother will finally listen to someone.”

  “I’m not certain I agree,” he mused quietly. “She has insulted him several times.”

  “Trust me, Edward deserves nothing less.”

  “School is no fun.” Edward rolled his eyes. “You sound like my sister, Cordelia.”

  “At least someone in your family has some intelligence,” Miss Ianthe stated, then paused, “I met a Miss Cordelia in The Hourglass.”

  Edward straightened and slowly looked around. His eyes widened when he saw her and Lord Bentford standing not far away.

  “Hello, Edward.” Cordelia smiled.

  “If you are afraid of your older sister, you wouldn’t last a sennight on a ship,” Miss Ianthe snickered.

  “I’m not afraid of her,” Edward insisted, and Cordelia lifted an eyebrow in challenge.

  “If you want an education so badly, why aren’t you with your governess right now?”

  “Edward,” Cordelia warned. She and Edward were going to have a long talk when they returned to Hollybrook Park. She was embarrassed by his behavior.

  “We are currently without a governess,” Miss Ianthe admitted.

  “Then hire a new one,” he said as if doing so was as simple as walking to the bakery for bread.

  My uncle and grandmother are very particular about who they wish to educate my sisters and me.” Ianthe sniffed as if she were above Edward.

  “Why? Because you’re witches?” This was said with curiosity, not accusing, yet it should have never been asked.

  Edward!” Such was never discussed openly in Bocka Morrow, especially where anyone could hear, and her brother knew better.

  Chapter 5

  The only reason Damon had not chastised Ianthe for calling Edward a fool and for making stupid decisions was because he thought it best to be handled privately. But he fully intended to have that discussion with his niece because she’d been quite rude and dismissive. However, all those concerns disappeared with that one question.

  Was it possible the boy knew?

  “If that is the reason, then your uncle should hire Cordelia to be your governess. She already knows you are a witch, and she thinks education, reading and books are the most important thing in the world.” The lad was trying to be helpful, but Damon quickly glanced around, thankful that nobody was within earshot.

  Damon glanced down to Miss Cordelia. Her lips were pursed and she sucked in air through her nose, then slowly blew it out.

  “I am taking you home right now, Edward Vail. I’ve had enough of your disrespect for me and Miss Ianthe. You know better than to make such an accusation where anyone can hear.”

  Did he ask if she knew that Ianthe was a witch? If they knew, how many others knew? Was his family even safe in Bocka Morrow any longer? Or maybe this was the reason his mother was so strict about nobody ever leaving Nightshade Manor.

  Except, Bocka Morrow already had at least four witches who were residents that he knew of. Were they accepted so easily here?

  It didn’t matter, Damon decided as he recalled the bodies of Evander and Rhea. Witches weren’t safe anywhere, especially if they were openly acknowledged.

  “You don’t know what you are talking about,” Ianthe sniffed. “Do you go around accusing everyone of being a witch if they disagree with you?”

  “I saw you,” he countered.

  Damon stiffened again. What had Edward seen, and where? How had Ianthe revealed herself?

  Bloody hell! This was the very reason his nieces were not supposed to leave the safety of Nightshade Manor.

  “Saw what?” Ianthe dismissed him.

  “When you arrived.”

  “Edward!” Miss Cordelia warned again, and Damon half expected her to take Edward by the ear and march him home, though he hoped she wouldn’t just yet because Damon wanted to know what the lad knew.

  “There was no one about when we arrived and had there been, there was nothing to be seen. You are a silly boy, Edward Vail.”

  At least Ianthe was believable in her denial, which gave Damon some comfort. He’d been afraid that if ever confronted either her face or tone would give her away, but she dismissed Edward’s comments convincingly.

  Edward then went on to quietly describe how the air changed, breeze stopped, and everything went silent, and how he convinced his sister to climb the tree.

  “That is enough, Edward,” Miss Cordelia warned again.

  “I didn’t think she would. Cordelia never does anything that is fun, which is why she’d make an excellent governess. She believes in rules and punishes misbehavior.”

  Miss Cordelia pursed her lips again and if she could kill by a glare, Edward would be dead.

  “Did you really climb a tree?” Damon found himself asking.

  “I am not proud of my actions,” she answered stiffly.

  Damon wanted to laugh at her confession, but he was also alarmed by what Edward and Miss Cordelia may have witnessed.

  Damon closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose while he listened as Edward described the road appearing, the bramble parting and the nightshade growing in a way that the most gifted storytellers would envy. Thankfully there was nobody else in earshot or Damon would have brought the conversation to an abrupt end.

  Bloody hell! Edward had seen everything, as had Miss Cordelia who was now looking away with rose stained cheeks.

  “You can deny being a witch all you want but I saw you try to move the bramble. Only leaves and berries fell.”

  Ianthe’s face turned red. “I guess I’m not a witch.” She shrugged.

  “Maybe not a good one yet,” Edward said.

  His niece had done well with denying she was a witch, but neither Edward nor likely Miss Cordelia was fooled, especially since they’d witnessed the magic.

  Damon just wasn’t certain what he would do about it. Was there a spell that his mother could cast to remove their memories?

  Then he remembered that there was, but it was a forbidden practice. He’d heard her and his aunt discussing it once and how the witch had been punished for doing that very thing.

  Perhaps his mother would change her mind once she learned what had happened.

  Mortification washed over Cordelia. First, because of Edward’s conduct. He behaved horribly and needed to be taken to task. Then, when he revealed to Lord Bentford that she’d climbed a tree to spy on them, she wished a hole would open in the ground and swallow her.

  He must think she and Edward were the most undignified, irresponsible, and disrespectful neighbors anyone could have. He’d likely tell his sister, Lady Larisa that she could no longer be friends with Adriana, and it would be her and Edward’s fault.

  “That is enough, Edward,” Cordelia finally said. “You’ve said more than you should.”

  “Nobody is around to hear me.”

  “It doesn’t matter. There are rules for a reason, and we are not far from the inn.” Witches may be common in Bocka Morrow, but it was silent knowledge and only discussed quietly, in privacy, and never near strangers. It didn’t matter that Bentford and his niece knew of witchcraft, they were still new to the area and Edward had just broken a vow every single resident in Bocka Morrow lived by.

  She turned to Bentford. “I apologize for my brother. Further, I apologize for spying on you and your family.”

  He simply nodded but said nothing further. Worse, the humor that had been in his brown eyes earlier was gone.

  “Ianthe, you and I need to return to Nightshade Manor.” Bentford’s tone held no warmth and Cordelia was certain that her brother had just destroyed any opportunity for her to further her acquaintance with Lord Bentford. Not that he’d probably wished to do so before, but he would certainly avoid her now.

  Disappointment settled around Cordelia, though there was no reason for it. She didn’t even know Lord Bentford, and they’d barely had a conversation. Further, she couldn’t begin to guess what he must think of her, and perhaps she shouldn’t ponder on it too much, or she’d likely suffer more embarrassment than when Bentford learned that she’d climbed a tree to spy on his family.

  “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Bentford,” she finally offered.

  “And yours.” He inclined his head then turned to his niece. “Come along and you can explain why you left without telling anyone.”

  The child slouched and walked with Lord Bentford to his horse.

  “We should return home as well,” Cordelia said to her wayward brother.

  He picked up his valise, slumped much like Miss Ianthe and turned down the road to Hollybrook Park.

  “I bet Uncle Jonathan didn’t go to school.”

  He was their great uncle who had been a smuggler, and possibly a pirate. Edward was fascinated by his portrait and vowed that one day he too would captain his own ship, just like Uncle Jonathan.

  “I would wager he at least finished his education at Eton.”

  “You don’t know that for certain.”

  “No, but you can learn for yourself,” Cordelia said. “Miranda found journals going back to when he first began to sail.”

  “Really?” Edward’s eyes grew round with excitement.

  Miranda was their older sister and had at one time tried to live in the attic where Uncle Jonathan had kept his spyglass, maps, books and all manner of things in which a ship’s captain may have an interest. That was also where he kept his journals and Cordelia was certain that Miranda had read every one that he’d written.

  “Perhaps if you read them, you’ll learn how he became a captain.”

  “That is what I’m going to do as soon as we arrive home.”

  Cordelia certainly hoped that Uncle Jonathan had gone to school or there would be no keeping Edward on land. He’d find the first ship that would take him and be gone before they realized what had happened.

  “Miss Ianthe seems nice,” she said.

  “She thinks I’m foolish and stupid,” Edward grumbled.

  “You also weren’t very nice to her,” Cordelia said carefully because she didn’t want him to know how much she had heard and didn’t wish to get into another argument, but he had to know that he should have talked nicer to the girl.

  “She wasn’t nice first,” Edward defended.

  Cordelia wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. “After you find out what Uncle Jonathan did, schooling and everything else, then we’ll talk.”

  He eyed her with suspicion. “Do you promise?”

  “Yes, but nobody is going to let you run off and join the navy at your age.”

  He made a face. “I don’t want to be in the navy. If I had to fight, I’d rather it be from a privateer or pirate ship.”

  Cordelia blew out a sigh. Her brother was going to be a criminal. He’d either smuggle or be a pirate. “Hopefully you don’t become a pirate or a privateer.”

  “But smuggling is okay.” He laughed.

  All Cordelia could do was shrug. Their family had made a fortune in smuggling. They still made a fortune doing so and everyone in the village of Bocka Morrow profited too. She couldn’t really discipline Edward for carrying on the family tradition.

  As they passed the Romani camp, Cordelia glanced over. Madam Boswell, her older brother Adam’s grandmother, was sitting beside a fire with the others. Her daughter, Eva, had been the first wife of Cordelia’s father. They had three sons, though only Adam survived. After Eva’s death, Cordelia’s parents married. Even though Madam Boswell was not a blood relation, as she was Adam’s grandmother, Cordelia thought of her as her own as well.