ESME
I don't know if I should push him away or pull him in. I want him with such passion it's hard to think, but we are not in the country for an affair of the heart, and he must be trained.
Telling him it can never be more than a distraction played on his conscience, and perhaps that was unfair. It was, however, the right thing to do. We should both concentrate on magic and education, and not on each other.
William turns to me with sharp eyes. "If today is an example of what holding back my desire will be like, it is more likely to be the distraction."
My most private places pulse with agreement.
Running his fingers through his hair, he lets out a long breath. "I don't know the right answer. I only know I want you so deeply it hurts when I'm not touching you. Never in my life have I known such longing."
"Nor I." My throat is too clogged with emotion to say more.
"Could this be some dark magic?" He plucks a blade of grass and rolls it between his fingers.
Anger slides between my adoration and need. "Are you jesting, or do you think there is a spell placed on us? When would such a spell have been cast? I wanted you from before you walked into my shop, but I would never take away your will to choose. I wouldn't want a man who needed to be tricked to desire me."
As I rise, he does too, and takes my hands in his. "Do not be upset. I only raised the question. There is no accusation. I never thought you would bespell me, Esme. Though, I do feel as if wanting you is magic."
I should pull my hands away and take myself back to the cottage. It's insulting to think his desire or mine could only be the product of dark magic. Yet, I can see why he might think so. If his feelings are as strong as mine, it's hard to resist the pull.
"There is a spell." I swallow and pull my hands free. "It's a kind of divination to root out curses placed on people or animals. It will enlighten us to anything forced upon us, and if we are bespelled, it can then be broken."
Still as a statue, he blinks once, twice, then gazes at the ground. "I never meant to offend you. I spoke what was in my heart. I could never believe anything dark about you."
His hesitation makes me feel the "but" after his sentence.
He nods. "But I think you should work the spell that will verify there is no curse." He says the last word so softly it's almost lost in the breeze ruffling the leaves.
"You will do the spell. I will show you how, and as it is common, I have it in my grimoire. You can see for yourself." I shouldn't be offended, but my pride is hurt. He thinks his attraction must be some devilment. What woman wouldn't be offended?
"I know nothing of spells." He takes my hand and rubs his thumb over my palm. Tension edges out of me with every stroke.
It would be better to snatch my hand away, but he is irresistible, and I thread my fingers through his as we stroll toward the cottage. "Maybe teaching you such a spell and assuring us both that what we feel is in the light isn't such a bad idea."
Simon sits in front of the door and gives me a disgusted glare.
"I think my little man is angry about the splash you gave him." I kneel to scratch his head, and he only holds his anger a second before he closes his eyes and purrs.
"Should we wake Madam Bishop before we attempt the spell?" William asks, taking my hand back into his.
"Let her sleep. This is a simple spell."
He laughs. "You said that about the water, and we nearly drowned."
I squeeze his hand. "I shall be more attentive and give specific instructions."
My trunks are already in my room. Perhaps it would be wiser to take the smaller trunk with herbs, spices, stones and other magical items to another more neutral room, but it's delicious to have him in the room where I'll sleep. I may have lost my mind. Magic or not, whatever this attraction is, I should learn to control it.
Kneeling at the trunk, I open the latch and lid.
William kneels next to me. "What do we need?"
I take a clear quartz crystal and hand it to him. "For purity." I take out several herbs and a vial of blessed water. "You'll need to pull a hair from your head and keep the root intact." I pull one of my own and hand it to him. "Put them in the vial with the water, and then put in a pinch of the cinnamon, and one of the cloves."
He does as I tell him.
I find my spell book and open to the page.
With the vial in one hand and the crystal in the other, I show him where to read. "Out loud and with intention."
He reads, "Fire in darkness be not in mind. Light will show the way. If in these two a curse has been laid, show it now and let them be free. As I say, so mote it be."
I hold my breath as the room sizzles with magic, prickling my skin.
William’s eyes are wide. "I feel something rushing along my spine."
"That's the magic." I study him for signs of a dark curse.
When the spark fades and nothing is revealed, I let out my breath.
"What happened?" He's still clutching the crystal and vial.
Easing his hands open, I take both. It takes a lot of energy not to show my relief. I go to the window, open it and pour out the vial before putting both back into my trunk. "There is no curse. One or both of us would have felt pain from the exposure."
I close the chest and latch it.
When I stand, William pulls me into his arms. "I'm sorry. I know you're angry, and you have every right to be. Forgive me. Please, Esme, forgive me." His voice is full of desperation.
The scent of all he is fills me to overflowing. Spices, magic, and William. I could get drunk on him. "There is nothing to forgive. Truth be told, I'm glad we worked the spell and know whatever this is between us is natural."
He releases me and puts distance between us. "I want to show you something. Meet me in the parlor?"
I have never wanted to kiss or be kissed by anyone more. Why must I be a sensible woman? Many witches take a man into their bed just because they want him. I am not one of them. I need more than a quick tumble that leaves me feeling sullied by the act and sorry for the bother.
If it had been a curse, it would have been disappointing, but at least it might have been broken. Then it would be easier to teach him and not yearn for his affection.
My other trunk is in the corner, open and empty. All my clothes have been put away for me. That is a treat. Anne must believe she needs to play maid to me. I will set that straight when I see her.
Clouds roll in from the west, covering the sun and graying the lovely day. With a sigh that sounds hopeless to my ear, I go to the parlor near the front door.
Alone in the parlor, I scan the bookshelves and find many magical tomes that I might like to make use of while we reside in the country. Perhaps I'll grow some herbs to take back to Windsor. The summer won't be a complete loss if I can save myself buying such things from farmers. Perhaps there are some mushrooms to be hunted up in the small woods.
The furniture is old, but of fine polished wood and sturdy fabric. Dark green and gold with touches of red give the parlor elegance. It's clean, as Brianna did a fine job readying the place for her many-times great grandmother. The windows face front, and the first drops of rain dampen the yard.
Simon scurries toward the house, sees the open window, and leaps through. He gives a meow before purring and rubbing his body on my skirt.
I pick him up and give him a cuddle. His fur is damp, but he comforts me with his little head rubbing my chin. "You're a fine fellow, Simon. I'm quite glad we found each other. I feel certain your company will be critical once all this nonsense is over and we're back in the shop."
Alone.
A cool breeze drives the rain to the windowsill. After putting Simon on the floor, I close out the wet, then rub the chill from my arms.
"Are you cold?" William asks from the threshold.
"It has gotten a bit damp out." I point to the growing storm.
He places three books on the low table in front of the loveseat. "Shall I make a fire?"
Tossing a thought to the hearth, I use magic to light the neatly stacked logs.
William laughs. "That’s handy."
I want to run into his arms and never leave. The urge is so strong I have to fight it with considerable will. "I will teach you when you learn some control. Water outside is less dangerous, yet you nearly drowned us. Fire inside could lead to disaster."
Wide-eyed, he nods. "Control would be helpful. It's strange to think of my magic as wild and ill-mannered. I've prided myself on a strict lifestyle since before the army. I never imagined any part of me might be out of control. It’s hard to imagine me having magic at all."
I want to comfort him, but all I can do is apologize. "I'm sorry, William. If you hadn't met me, you would still have a life where you were comfortable. Seeking me out has altered the course of your well-planned life."
He rounds the furniture and holds my arms at the elbows. His touch is gentle yet firm. "I have no regrets, Esme."
"How is that possible?" I should pull away, but I long for his hands on me, even in this simple way.
A crack of thunder startles Simon, who jumps onto the loveseat and hides behind a pillow with only his bottom sticking out.
Giving the kitten a brief smile, William leans down and kisses the tip of my nose. "I would never wish you out of my life. Meeting you has changed everything I believed. It has explained parts of my world, and my father, that I never understood. I am not a man to hide myself from the truth, no matter how strange it seems. If that were the case, I would never have come looking for your shop in the first place."
I press my cheek to his chest, and his arms wrap around me. "It would be simpler for you to live in ignorance. It would be wiser for me to ignore these feelings that continue to grow inside me."
His lips press to the top of my head. I've never felt more at home, and it has nothing to do with the cottage.
He sighs. "Maybe I conjured you. You said desire is powerful magic."
Chuckling, I breathe him in. "Why must you smell so damned good?"
Pulling back, he scoffs. "I hardly think that can be after a carriage ride and dousing from the pond. Perhaps the spell didn't work, and you are bewitched."
I know he's joking, yet my yearning for him is so strong, I can almost believe it true. Turning to the books he's brought, I ask, "What have you there?"
"Come and sit." He rounds the loveseat, then waits for me to sit before he settles beside me.
Simon scrambles into my lap and startles with every crack of thunder.
William lifts the first book from the stack. It's old with a worn leather cover. "This is a journal of one of my relatives, Sarina Meriwether. She speaks of the death of a friend during the witch hunts. I didn't read too far into any of these. I thought it best to show them to you and Madam Bishop first."
As if conjured by her name, Prudence shuffles into the parlor with Henry by her side. William's valet seems to have taken it upon himself to protect the great mother.
Prudence pats Henry’s arm and releases him. "Have I missed anything?"
With a bow, Henry leaves.
"No," I say. "We had a dowsing when William attempted some water magic. Now, he's showing me some books he brought with him." I don't want to tell her we attempted a curse divining spell. It would give away too much.
Rounding the chaise, Prudence slowly makes her way to the chair adjacent to us. Her dark-blue day dress fits in perfectly with the subdued tones of the parlor. "Where did you find these books?"
"I remembered my father scolding me once as a boy for looking at an old book. At the time, I didn’t understand his rage. I also didn’t understand the book's content. He moved the books, and I never gave it any more thought until a few days ago. They were on a high shelf tucked at the end." William hands the journal to Prudence.
Once she opens the book, her eyes fill with sorrow. "This is a long time ago. So many good witches lost. Many of the dark betrayed them. You should read this, Sir William. You will learn your family's history."
She hands the book back to him, and he nods. His eyes fill with trepidation, but also agreement. "I will read it. I wonder if my father read it, or if he only hid it as his father did before him."
Wanting to give him comfort, I say, "He may not have acknowledged what he was, but he never burned this book. He kept it, albeit hidden, he kept it for others to find. Don’t blame the man for making sure his family was safe. It was his duty, after all."
"Well said," Prudence agrees and smiles proudly.
William frowns, then picks up the second book. "This is a book authored by the same witch, and a man I assume was her husband. Samuel and Sarena Meriwether created this medicinal account."
Prudence opens the book and runs a weathered hand down the pages. After a moment, she says, "It's their grimoire. This is a wonderful find. Most spell books were lost or destroyed during this time. It was often done to hide evidence as so many were dragged away and hanged or burned. We will examine this and see if you can practice with some of the simpler spells."
I take the book from Prudence and read the first page of a spell for headaches. Besides the incantation, it also gives a solid recipe for a tonic, and a poultice to be pressed to the temples. "The tonic here is very similar to the one I use. I've not heard of the damp cloth and herbs for head pain."
"An older way, to be sure, but effective just the same." Prudence points to the third book. The leather cover is dry and torn. "This is something else?"
William hands it to her. "I could not read this, Great Mother. It is in a language that is like Latin, but the words made no sense to me. I thought it best to bring it to you rather than dabble in that which I don't yet understand."
"A wise notion, child." Prudence shivers as she reads. "This is of the old tongue. Latin and Gallic." She closes the book, worry in her eyes. Taking a knitted blanket from the back of the couch, she pulls it around her shoulders.
"What is it?" I ask.
"This book is not of the light. I fear some part of your family was working with black magics, William."
"Should we burn it?" He looks at the fire.
Prudence nods. "It should be done in ritual fire on the new moon if you wish to rid yourself of it."
"I want no part of anything that will do harm." He pulls his shoulders back. "If it is evil, it should be destroyed."
Prudence looks at the first page, and says, "The spells in this book are not all evil, nor is the book itself. The user is where evil may lie." She points a thin finger at the page. "This spell is to make a man do one's will. This spell is forbidden by our laws as it does the man harm. Someone thought it important to keep this book for hundreds of years."
Putting the book aside, Prudence rubs a finger along her temple. "Why would your father and his fathers before him have saved this book? It was not written by Samuel and Sarina. It is far older. Yet, good witches, healers, Samuel and Serena presumably kept this, too."
A shiver runs up my spine. "The new moon is not for ten days, Great Mother. Perhaps we should use that time to learn if this has some value in the light."
Prudence's grim expression eases. "Yes. We should find out what made the Meriwether family hold onto this, despite their resolve to leave behind their magic."
Worry emanates from William in waves that I feel to the bottom of my soul. The idea of something evil in his possession torments him. "If the keeping of this book was deliberate, why didn't my father express it to me at some point? He never said you may never touch these books, but you are ordered to keep them and pass them to the next generation. In fact, he never mentioned them in any way after the day he raged at me for touching them."
"I cannot answer that," Prudence says. "Perhaps whatever we discover will tell you what you need to know."
Anne walks in with a tea tray full of treats.
My stomach growls and my cheeks heat. "I suppose we did miss luncheon."