Philip may have decided that if he was never a man again that he would force Lady Antonia to remain just so he would have someone to talk to, but that would be too cruel.

  “Please do not attempt to match me to Lady Antonia. We both have far more serious matters to concern ourselves with.”

  She studied him a moment longer before nodding. “We shall discuss the matter after the full moon.”

  At least it gave him twelve days before she’d be questioning him about his future again.

  Antonia quieted her own mind and focused all thoughts on the spell that she would need to cast. She often attempted to prepare herself by shutting out others but had never been successful for long. At least not in large crowds. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so difficult in the gardens, outside, with only Lord Chedworth present.

  Besides, she could benefit from the heightened magic that filled the circle from decades of witches who had used the place for spells or ceremonies.

  Philip waited for her but said nothing. Further, he was calm.

  Antonia stepped into the center, set her book on a small pedestal that had not been there previously. She also did not question where it had come from as she placed her candles and crystals around. She then settled before the book and withdrew the slip of paper where she had written the recovery spell and placed it over the page with the werewolf spell.

  “You should join me in the circle, on the other side of the book and across from me.” He had been the one cursed so perhaps that magic would come back to her.

  He did so without a word.

  She then lit the candles and held out her arms on either side of the book, reaching toward Lord Chedworth.

  “Please, take my hands.”

  He did so and Antonia nearly sucked in a breath from the power of encouragement and trust, and caring.

  Beneath was fear, which she had expected, but the anger from earlier was completely gone. Had he forgiven her?

  She drew from the encouragement and allowed it to lighten her soul and weaved it into her intentions.

  Antonia closed her eyes and focused on what she willed. She drew on magic from the past and the strength of Lord Chedworth. She centered her being on the one thing she needed in that moment, then looked down and read the spell.

  Bring back the words once written beneath this page.

  From ancient times to modern days.

  Lift them forward, reveal them to me.

  Antonia grasped Chedworth’s hands tighter and repeated the spell a second and third time. Three lines recited three times. She chose that number because that was the number needed to fully cast the spell.

  Antonia let go of Lord Chedworth’s hands and moved her spell from the book, then glanced at the page where words had once been written.

  Disappointment slammed into her heart. The page remained blank.

  The disappointment within Chedworth matched her own. “I am sorry.”

  “As am I.”

  “I will fix this. I promise to do everything in my power to see the spell undone.”

  “I know you will.”

  How can he be so calm?

  “If only…had I known…”

  “You did not,” he interrupted. “I was there out of curiosity. This is as much my fault.”

  She was grateful that he was taking some of the blame, but this was her failing.

  The two were very much alone at the center of the garden beneath a clear, star-filled sky and crescent moon. Antonia looked into his cobalt eyes. There was no anger or hatred toward her.

  Antonia reached out again and took his hand so that she could search deeper. “I do not understand how you can be calm,” she whispered. “But I also feel your fear.”

  “Did you need to take my hand to know?” he asked.

  Antonia frowned. This was the first time that she had needed to touch someone to know for certain.

  “Yes. It has never happened before. Even when people try to hide from me, they cannot, but I could hardly feel your fear until I took your hand.”

  “Perhaps the other spell is veiling them.”

  “No, that is not it.” The spell gave him parts of a wolf, his beast within, and Antonia read animals as easily as she read humans, so that should not be the reason his emotions were more distant to her. “Nor do I understand why.”

  “Maybe you simply cannot feel the emotions of werewolves.” The side of his mouth quirked.

  “How can you tease at a time like this?”

  Chedworth sobered. “Because I think you are worried enough for the both of us. If your anxiety becomes too much, it may affect the correct spell when it is found.”

  “That has never happened to me before,” she insisted.

  “I have seen it happen to others in my family. Perhaps a spell hasn’t been so important to you before.”

  He was correct. Antonia knew that she would need to remain calm, or everything could go from bad to worse.

  “Thank you.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked again. “For what?”

  “Being kind and understanding. For your center of calm.”

  He chuckled. “I must truly be hidden from you because my center certainly is not calm.”

  “No, but it is rational and not ruled by terror, which it easily could be. You still have hope.”

  “Do you not?” he asked, his cobalt eyes boring into her.

  Did she? Antonia wasn’t certain how to answer.

  Chedworth squeezed her hand. “You do, or you would not be out here after midnight, nor would you promise to work for a solution. If you had lost hope, you would have given up.”

  Having hope that the solution would be found and working to find an elusive answer were two different matters, but she’d not correct him.

  Antonia pulled her hand from his, and an emptiness filled her. She nearly grasped it again. For most of her life she had avoided touching others whenever possible and wore gloves when it was necessary. She and Chedworth had clasped hands with nothing between them, and she felt his presence within. He had an ability to give her what she needed, yet she couldn’t even begin to explain it to herself. A connection to another soul, or the part of her that had been missing.

  She’d only felt a small connection in the past, but it was strong tonight.

  Perhaps it was the circle of magic, the waxing moon, the hour, and maybe she was simply tired, but he soothed her and if Antonia stopped to contemplate what it truly meant, she would lose her focus on what was important and that was reversing the wolf spell.

  Antonia said nothing of what she experienced, but closed the spell book, then gathered her crystals, returned them to the satchel then blew out the candles. Chedworth helped her gather those and then they stood. Instead of offering his arm to escort her from the gardens, he took her hand and looked down.

  Did he feel it too?

  Chapter Thirteen

  The need to touch Lady Antonia was nearly overwhelming, and as they started to exit the garden, Philip took her hand again, and a calmness, a rightness came over him, just as it had after she had held his hand when the spell had been complete.

  During the spell he had only felt a connection to her and the book. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, simply attached, as if he were part of her and the book.

  It had been broken when she had pulled away, but then she took his hand again and that is when the peace filled him in a way that he had never experienced before. As if they were meant to be here, in this moment, together.

  His mother once told him that when magic is shared, a connection is made. Except he did not possess magic. Only Antonia did. He had nothing to share with her.

  But, after the spell, they were most definitely connected, as one, her being the other part of him.

  Did she feel it as well? Or was this simply an aftermath of being part of a spell, or the transformations that were happening in him because of the original spell?

  Philip nearly asked if she needed to touch him as much as he needed her but feared she did not feel the same.

  At least she had not rejected him when he reached for her hand, but had held tight, as if she needed him as well.

  So much had happened in these past few days, his reaction to her could simply be because of all they had endured, but he hoped that wasn’t it. And, if this connection remained, Philip knew without a doubt that they would court and likely marry. Why would he want to live the rest of his life without her. She was the other part of him. She filled the space that had been empty without him even knowing it existed until it was filled.

  As they drew near the parlor, Philip reluctantly let go of her hand. He did not want anyone noticing because they would comment and make assumptions that he was not willing to discuss. First, he needed to know for certain if what was between them was the truth, or simply a spell, and he would likely not know that until he was back to normal.

  If he was ever normal again.

  “Did it work?” his mother asked as they entered the parlor where everyone waited.

  “No,” Antonia answered with defeat. “But I have not given up and with your permission, I would like to return to the vault.”

  “It is past midnight,” Lady Wharton objected.

  “We are also running out of time,” Antonia reminded her. “I slept today when I should not have. I need to find a way to fix the spell, or bring the words from the book, or both.”

  “I will help you,” Petra announced and stood.

  “As will I,” Maia and Samantha echoed each other.

  “I will offer what assistance that I can,” Philip said. “I may not be able to perform magic, but I can read.”

  “If I were younger, I would assist,” his mother said. “For now, I will retire and visit the vault in the morning if nothing has been found.”

  Antonia made her way from the parlor, his cousins and Lady Samantha following, then Philip trailed behind.

  “Did anyone read anything that would be related to a wolf, werewolf, or anything related to animal magic?” Antonia was asking them.

  None of them had.

  “While that is a disappointment, at least we do not need to retrace our steps, and can keep reading until we find something.”

  “Including a veiling spell,” Maia offered.

  “That is not important now. The spell to fix the broken magic that has affected Lord Chedworth is.”

  The reason she was here was so that she could enjoy Society and gatherings without suffering, yet Antonia had just set that all aside to help him when he knew how painful her own condition was to endure.

  He may not be able to perform magic, but as he read, he would not forget that she needed an important spell, relic, or potion too.

  Once they reached the vault, the four witches separated without hesitation as if they knew exactly where to go. Of course, they had already been reading in here, so he assumed they were just going to where they had stopped.

  Philip instinctively followed Antonia. It was by her side where he wanted to be. When he joined her before a shelf of relics she paused.

  “You know not to touch anything, I assume.”

  “Only read the journals,” he responded. He knew the rules.

  “As you are taller, I will let you read the journals closer to the top as it will save me from having to get a stool.”

  “I am but your servant.” He executed a slight bow.

  Antonia placed a hand on his sleeve and warmth filled him.

  “Thank you.”

  He looked into her light blue eyes and spoke from the heart. “There is no place that I would rather be.” The full truth was that there was no place that he wanted to be but with her.

  When Antonia had previously read the journals, she often took time to study them, even though they would have been of no benefit to her. So many items were of interest, for the magic they could be a part of, and some of the danger and destruction they had caused. Such was not the case now. Her mind was focused, searching for any reference to animals, beasts, or wolves. Once she found a spell to help Chedworth, she’d return to where she previously left off to look for reference to a veiling spell.

  Yes, it was unpleasant being in crowds, but not nearly as painful as partially becoming a wolf each night. She’d seen the pain in his eyes, on his face, and felt it within herself. Chedworth could not endure such over a lifetime, or even a year without it taking a toll on his body and that is what frightened her. Except, if he fully became a werewolf, it would only be once a month, and only when the moon was full, but that was still bad enough. At least, those were the myths, but how could anyone know if it was true or not. Further, she couldn’t even be certain what would happen to Chedworth because the spell had not been fully completed.

  Could he be a wolf in limbo, cursed to suffer a change every single night at midnight?

  That was her fear.

  At least with her magic, she could escape people for a few days and not suffer. He did not have the same opportunity, which was why finding a spell to end his transformation was more important than anything she ever needed.

  “Mother said you were down here. Where should I start?”

  Antonia turned to find Philip’s younger sister, Gretchen, standing at the end of the aisle. Beside her were Maia’s younger sisters, Larisa and Selene.

  “Do you know what you are looking for?” Maia asked.

  “Yes, mother explained,” Larisa said.

  “Good, then start at the opposite ends of the aisles and we will meet in the middle, but hopefully one of us will find something before then.”

  “She also said that the five of you need to go up to breakfast then find your beds. She and our aunts will be down to continue reading.”

  Antonia blinked. “Breakfast?”

  “Yes,” Gretchen laughed. “Apparently the five of you have been down here all night. It is nearly ten in the morning.”

  They’d been reading, hardly even speaking, for nearly nine hours. The entire time, Chedworth had been by her side, reading as she was. Sometimes their hands touched, or arms, and it usually happened when she was growing weary and her eyes were starting to blur, but with each touch, she was renewed and reminded of her purpose. And the longer they were in the vault, the more often they touched until sometimes it had not been accidental on Antonia’s part because she needed his renewing strength and silently wondered if that was why he touched her.

  “Tell us where you have left off and we will continue,” Lady Wharton announced as she came into the vault, her sisters-in-law following.

  Philip’s mother came toward them, and Antonia explained which journals had been read and which had not. Lady Wharton inquired the same of Maia and Lady Chandos of Petra, and Gretchen of Samantha.

  “Now, go eat and rest. I will alert you if we discover anything.”

  Antonia blew out a sigh. She wanted to keep looking and reading. “I will break my fast and then return.”

  “You will not,” Lady St. Alban ordered. “You need your strength. If we find a spell, but you are too weak to perform it, matters could be made worse, not better.”

  She had not thought of that. And she was so very tired.

  “You are correct. I shall eat, then rest, then return.”

  Antonia followed Petra, Maia and Samantha from the vault. Chedworth was behind and as soon as he placed a hand at the small of her back, a part of her was renewed. However, Antonia knew that she must rest no matter how much she wished to stay by his side.

  Chapter Fourteen

  There was silence around the breakfast table. Philip assumed everyone was too exhausted to talk, as was he. He’d never filled a plate, took his seat, and just ate as if alone when others were present, but he wasn’t the only one.

  The servants were even quiet, as if they sensed that none of them could even answer a simple question and refilled teacups without prompting.

  His cousins and Lady Samantha finished eating before Philip and Lady Antonia and left the breakfast room without a word.

  Antonia remained in her chair, leaning back, cradling her teacup, and staring ahead as if contemplating an issue.

  “Is all well?” Philip asked.

  She blinked and focused on him. “Yes. No…” She allowed a small smile. “Your mother is correct. We need some rest.”

  With that she set her teacup aside and rose. As soon as she stepped across the threshold, Philip immediately felt the loss and that space within that had been filled began to empty, as if it had been a bucket holding water and someone had started to tip it.

  He quickly pushed his chair back to follow, gaining on her as she climbed the stairs, the bucket inside filling again.

  It was the oddest of sensations, but he knew deep down that he didn’t want that emptiness to return. An emptiness that he had not even known he carried until it was replaced.

  Antonia stopped by her chamber door. “Have a nice rest, Lord Chedworth.”

  “You as well,” he said and continued to this own set of rooms and with each step, the bucket once again began to tip.

  Once he closed the chamber door, Philip leaned back against it. This was madness.

  No, it was magic. He was just as certain that once he was cured, or whatever needed to be done, he’d no longer have this connection, and might not even notice she was missing once they did part.

  If they ever parted.

  He crossed to his bed, not bothering to ring for his valet. He was too tired to ask for assistance. In fact, he was too tired to do anything more than remove his boots, cravat, suitcoat, and waistcoat, and then crawled onto his bed wearing only his trousers and shirt.

  The drapes had been drawn against the light of the day, or perhaps they’d never been opened. Not that it mattered because he was grateful for the darkness.

  He rolled to his side, bunched the pillow, and closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

  It did not come.

  He then rolled to his back and once again tried to find slumber, but his mind was on Antonia and what needed to be accomplished.

  No, that wasn’t it. Neither his body, nor his mind would rest because he missed her.