WILLIAM
On the afternoon of the new moon, I read the strange grimoire looking for the reason the book was kept in my family for generations. The old language, as Prudence called it, took me a while to understand. It's a strange combination of Latin and Gallic, but with some knowledge of both, I’ve pushed through.
The spells are about control and power. One to control a man’s mind. One to imitate love. A spell to make one person look like another. A spell to manipulate animals, and a death curse. With every page, the spells become more deadly.
Prudence arrives with Anne and sits beside me.
Anne places the tea on the table before leaving.
“Esme has gone for a walk. She said she’s tired of being cooped up in the stillroom. I thought you might like some tea and company.” Prudence pours me a cup.
I put the book aside, take the tea, and sigh. “I see nothing good in these spells.”
“Do you desire to use them?” She pours her own tea.
Shocked, I gape at her. “They are evil. I wouldn’t cast to harm another or kill someone. Even to force an animal to do one’s bidding strikes me as a terrible undertaking.”
Frowning, Prudence nods. “Perhaps that is the point.”
“I fail to see your logic, Great Mother.” The tea warms me, chamomile to calm the nerves and mint for digestion. This pot of tea was meant to make me feel better, and it has done so. I relax against the sofa cushion.
“Perhaps your family kept it as a test. If you have no desire to use the spells, does that not say something about your character?”
Putting the cup aside, I look from the book to her. “A dangerous test. If I or one of my relatives were dark, they would use these spells. They could kill with them.”
“That is so.” Prudence hands me my cup and saucer again. “They could have, and you could yet. However, you say you have no desire to use a spell meant for ill. Is that not telling?”
I see her point. “Too large a risk in my opinion.”
“Shall we burn it tonight?” She watches me over her cup.
“It would be best. I despair that another Meriwether had not done so generations ago.” My heart is lighter with the knowledge that the book will be destroyed.
“It was for you to do. This is meant.” Prudence looks at the door just as Esme enters.
“What is meant?” She sits, pours herself a cup of tea, sips, and smiles.
Her smile, though meant for the tea, sears into my heart. “I’m going to destroy the ancient grimoire tonight. Prudence believes my decision is meant to be.”
“I see. You have no use for the spells within?” She’s watching me so carefully I feel it in my blood.
Shaking my head, I put my empty teacup down. “I would never use any of those spells. Not in this lifetime nor in the next.”
Her lips twitch. “Then we shall make a good fire under the new moon and rid your family of its burden.”
As the sun wanes in the west, we light the fire in the yard.
Simon sits watching from the porch with Anna and Samuel.
“Henry, you need not be here. We’re only burning a book.” I attempt to lighten the grim mood.
“The fact that you feel the need to burn this particular book out of doors with some ritual is reason enough for me to remain close.” He cocks a brow. “With your permission, sir.”
I laugh. “Of course. Stay if it pleases you.”
As soon as the sun leaves none of its light behind, Esme hands me the book. “As we practiced, William.”
I stare at the fire, take a long breath, and clutch the old leather. “Guided by not even the moon, I send this evil tome to ash. With salt and Goddess blessing to see, as I will, so mote it be.”
I hurl the book into the fire.
Flame as red as blood flashes straight up in a rush that throws me backward and off my feet. The ground knocks the breath from me.
Esme holds on to Prudence, keeping them both on their feet.
Offering his hand, Henry helps me up. “Was that supposed to happen?”
I shrug and caution closer to the column of unnatural fire. “With my will unscathed. I pray the light. I seek Goddess’s will. I abolish the dark’s plight. My test is complete.”
The fire recedes as if doused. A heaviness lifts from my mind and my heart. It feels as if the old hidden book had shrouded me all my life, and now it is gone, and I am free.
As I look across at Esme, my heart is light and full of something I dare not name.
She offers her smile, and it fills my heart with joy.
Time seems to move more slowly in the country. It’s been over a week since we burned that old book, but it feels like months.
As I concentrate on the wick of a white tapered candle, the flame flickers in my mind. It's small and soft, can only light the wick, not set the room aflame.
I have to push aside the memory of nearly burning the stillroom to ash. If Esme wasn't ready with a water spell, we would have perished.
Refocusing, I only see the wick. The stillroom fades from my peripheral vision. Esme's breathing and even her words of instruction shift to nothing. I see the wick. I see the flame. I breathe and flick my fingers lightly toward it.
The wick lights.
As I hold my breath, the room comes back into focus.
I blink. "I did it?"
"You did it." Esme's voice is full of pride.
Turning, I pull her into an embrace and lift her from her feet.
We've hardly touched since the night we made love. I've waited for some sign that she wishes me to return to her bed, but she's been all business ever since. The most wonderful night of my life had little effect on her, it seems.
As I lower her, our noses nearly touch.
Passion lights her eyes but dims a moment later. Her smile fades, and she pushes against my forearms. "I'm proud of you. That was well done."
Releasing her, I move back. "Thank you."
"You learn very quickly. In three weeks, you have managed fire, water, air, and earth spells." She blows out the candle then fans herself. "It's hot. I'm going for a walk by the pond. Perhaps there's a breeze to be had somewhere."
Doubting there is, I fall into step beside her. "Summer in the country is more pleasant than the city, but it's still hot."
"Indeed." She lifts the curls at the back of her neck and turns her back to the slight breeze from the south. "It's better out here."
"The stillroom is quite close. Do you think it's safe to move our work to the parlor, or perhaps we should wake earlier and do magics before the heat of the day?" The pond ripples, and while the breeze is fine, I long to jump into the water.
Simon runs across the grass to the edge of the pond and laps the water.
Kneeling next to him, I don't care that my knees are getting wet and probably muddy. I cup some water and drink. Scooping a handful, I rise and offer it to Esme.
She stares a moment. The fire returns to her eyes like green flames. Dipping her head, but not taking her gaze from mine, she sips from my hand. "Thank you."
My heart is pounding, and blood rushes through my ears. Blood rushes to lower regions as well. I pull back. "I'm thinking a swim might be the only way to cool off."
"A swim?" Her pretty mouth drops open.
"Can't you swim?" I ask.
She grips her elbows and steps back. "Whether or not I can swim is not the issue. We cannot swim together."
Moving so close only a sliver of light separates us, I whisper. "Esme, if I don't cool off, I'm going to ravage you right here on this slope of grass." I draw back. "I'll teach you to swim."
"I have nothing to swim in." She's in a light blue day dress and still wearing an apron.
"Just take off the apron and your shoes and wade in." I pull off my boots, stockings, and coat. "If it were night, we could strip down and just jump in as God intended."
"William!"
Amused, I offer my hand. "You should learn to swim."
"I never said I can't swim." She cocks her head and stares at me.
Hadn't she? "I heard you. I asked if you can swim, and I heard no."
"I never said that." She takes a step away from me.
I'm revisiting the exact conversation. "No. You didn't say it, yet I heard it loudly in my head. I heard you, and I felt the fear you have of the water. No. Not of the water, but of drowning."
Information poured out of her head and flooded into mine. Now her fear shifts to me. She's afraid of me? Afraid of what I might become and that it would be her fault.
"Stop it!" She pushes the center of my chest so hard I stumble back.
Shaking my head, I brush aside the flow of emotions not my own. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. All of a sudden, I could hear you, and it was difficult not to listen. It was rude. I realize that. I'm sorry to have made you uncomfortable."
Esme stares at me for a long moment. "You are never to invade another person’s thoughts without permission unless it's an emergency.”
"It was not something I made an effort at. It was more like a door opened, and I loitered in quite by accident. I apologize." This magic has put a wall up between us, and I want to take every second of the past few minutes back.
Sweat drenches my shirt, running in rivulets down my back, and my desire for her has made me uncomfortably hard. "I'm still going in the pond. Join me?" I hold out my hand.
She shakes her head and sits in the grass where she removes her shoes and stockings.
The sight of her bare calves is too much. Turning, I jump into the pond. It's nice and deep, and within a couple of feet, I can no longer touch the bottom. The cool water is heavenly in the unbearable heat. I swim to the opposite side and let my feet touch the soft bottom.
When I turn, Esme is standing with her feet in the water. She has wrapped her skirt around her arm, so her legs are visible to the knee. She's shapely and beautiful and there is no way for me to stop this burning attraction. Honestly, I don't want to stop.
"Have you changed your mind about a swimming lesson?" I roll to my back and slowly float in her direction.
"No. Anyone might ride up." She checks the road for visitors.
"We've been here over three weeks. Miss Bishop has been our only visitor, and she comes on Friday. As it is Thursday, I find it unlikely you would be seen splashing around in the pond." I stand when I reach her, then walk to the grass, sit, and let the sun dry me.
"Maybe so, but I'll not risk being seen behaving in such a way." She continues to paddle in four inches of water.
Even though I've seen her naked, the glimpse of her legs is charming, and I have to concentrate on not embarrassing myself with a full erection. After all, she's right, someone could see us if they came down the drive. Even as we are, with me wet and her paddling, it's inappropriate and fodder for the gossips. If I'm seen aroused, it would be a scandal.
Thinking of other issues, I pull on my stockings and boots. "I shall go and tell Prudence of this new skill."
Esme strides from the water and picks up her abandoned footwear. "I will go with you. I'm not at all sure how one learns to control such a thing. I've never shared thoughts with another. Even my mother and I couldn't speak without words. Though, she and Father could." She says the last with a dreamy quality.
In the parlor, Prudence sits writing at the small desk in the corner. When we enter, she looks up. "How was your swim?"
"Refreshing," I admit without shame, while Esme's cheeks pinken. "I've exhibited a new magic that has Miss O'Dwyer concerned."
Prudence places the pen in its holder and caps the ink. "Oh? What happened?"
"I heard what she was thinking. I heard it as if she'd spoken out loud. Then it was difficult for me to stop listening." It is best to admit everything. If this is damning, I'll accept the consequences.
Slowly, and with a wince, Prudence stands and shuffles to the chaise. "I assume Esme told you it is considered rude to invade another's mind."
"Unless the circumstances are dire. Yes. She told me." I wait for Esme to sit, and then I lean against the mantel.
Prudence nods. "Read my mind now, William. I give you leave."
I stand up straight. This was not what I expected. "I beg your pardon?"
A warm smile tugs at her lips. "Read my mind. I'm curious if you can do this on command, or if it was because Esme was broadcasting her thoughts."
In contrast to Prudence's amused expression, Esme looks miserable. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s gripping her elbows so hard her knuckles are white.
Wishing I could ease her concern won’t make it so. I focus on Prudence and wonder what she is thinking. "You are thinking that you hope there are cucumber sandwiches with the tea, and something sweet for me to enjoy."
Clapping her ancient hands, Prudence smiles. "Very good. Now. Send me something back."
"How do I do that?"
"Just think it and open the thought to me." Her gray gaze is steady and intense.
I think about the little cakes Anne is so good at making.
"Oh, yes, your Anne is a wonder. You should promote her when we go back to the city." Prudence grins, pleased. "I'm very impressed with your skills, William. How your family has withheld them all these generations is a wonder."
"Does it follow that the previous members of my family had magic? Would they have known and hid it from others?" I recall how angry my father was when he saw me looking at the books. I send the thought to both Esme and Prudence.
Eyes wide with a little panic, Esme pulls her lips into a line.
Prudence shrugs. "He may have known. He may have lit a fire or stirred the wind when he was emotional. I cannot say."
"Is it also forbidden to speak to your minds, or only to invade?" I worry at how uncomfortable Esme is sitting with her back straight and her face grim.
Esme meets my stare. "It is considered intimate."
"So, friends do not communicate in this manner?" I shift my attention to Prudence as she seems less worried.
Opening her arms, Prudence gestures for me to sit in the chair adjacent to the chaise and across from Esme.
With my wet breeches, I hesitate, but then shrug and sit.
She says, "It is something that lovers often share if their bond is strong. It is rare for someone to be able to accomplish this with every witch."
"It is more than rare. It is unheard of." Esme grips her arms tighter and looks as if her shoulders might snap.
"Not unheard of," Prudence corrects. "Rare."
"How rare?" I don't like Esme's obvious concern or the way she's avoiding eye contact.
The women exchange a look.
Prudence sighs. "We only know of one other witch, and he was malevolent in the extreme."
"Was? Then this witch is dead?"
"He is." Prudence's eyes glass over. "I killed him over a hundred years ago. He left me no choice, and still, I suffer from the act."
Esme rises and sits beside the great mother. She wraps her arm around Prudence's thin shoulders. "Tell him the full of it, if you will."
"So long ago, it has become a thing of myth, yet in my mind it might have happened yesterday. His name was Bertram Wells. I was still young, though old enough that I should have seen what he was. He came to Windsor shortly after I left this cottage. Handsome... Oh, even more handsome than you, William. Bertram courted me, and despite warnings from the coven, I fell in love with him. He nearly killed us all in his effort to reach the king. He had great plans to rule England through witchcraft. He might have succeeded if the veil had not been pulled from my eyes in time."
Imagining Prudence as a young woman in love, I lean forward with my elbows on my knees. It seems impossible that the wise witch of today might have been naïve so long ago. "What happened?"
Prudence's laugh is devoid of all joy. "We became lovers and were to marry. He was to be the first male witch in centuries who would be admitted to the coven. Once we were married, he would have had full access to the coven and perhaps could have wheedled his way in to see the king."
"How did you discover his true nature?"
Prudence slumps and Esme rubs her back.
Perhaps I pushed too far. "If this is too painful, madam, it is not necessary to tell me."
Patting Esme's knee, Prudence draws a long shaky breath. "You should know. The power you possess can be used for evil. However, it does not make you dark, William. I still feel nothing wicked in you.
"Bertram was very careful. He and I spoke with our minds, but he could manipulate others without their knowledge. He would plant ideas in witches' heads, and even before our marriage, he climbed the ranks of the coven. Nothing official, of course, but still, I was so proud of his talents and clever mind."
Tea arrives, and we all sit quietly as Anne puts the tray on the table.
Esme pours Prudence a cup and hands it to her before she pours for me and herself.
Prudence puts her cup and saucer down. "It was Sowen. The witches gathered to celebrate, and as the veil between living and dead thinned, we hoped to speak to those who were no longer with us. My mother had passed two summers before, and I longed to see or hear her.
"As the spirits came through, they all looked upon Bertram, but stayed silent. My mother pushed through his spell to keep them away and whispered traitor in my head. Still, I didn't believe her. How could the man I loved so be a traitor? In what way?
"I was a fool." Pale, she picked up her tea. "Willamina Blakely also got a message from her grandmother pointing a finger at Bertram. She accused him, and he struck her down with a forbidden spell. She was dead before she hit the ground."
Esme rubbed Prudence's back. "Tell the rest, Great Mother. I'm sorry, but he must know."
Prudence meets my gaze with a steady gray stare. "The witches went into a frenzy. They threw spell after spell at him, but he was so strong. In his efforts to hold off the onslaught of light magic, his glamor fell. He wasn't the handsome man I fell in love with, but a hideous mangled thing that black magic had twisted and warped. Still, I loved him and begged him to stop and return to the light.
"He laughed at me as if I was a naive child. And I suppose I was. I threw a bolt of power to bind him. I said the ancient binding spell. My sisters gave me all they could to help me bind him for all time. Then it was done."
My heart aches for her pain, so old and yet so fresh in her mind. "How did he die?"
Prudence shakes her head.
After drawing a long breath, Esme says, "It's said he relied on his evil to sustain him for hundreds of years past a natural life, and once he had no magic, he died. He died in the circle of witches on Sowen. His body was salted and burned that very night. The great mother was tried the next day and found innocent of any wrongdoing, as they all had been fooled by him."
"And he was the last witch to have this ability." I touch the side of my head.
"That is known. Yet I sensed no evil or dark when you were in my head. I only fear what I don't understand. Forgive me." Esme stares at her hands in her lap.
I stand and pace in front of the hearth, then stop and look at the two of them staring at me. "I would give you full access to my mind. I would have you search my heart for anything that might turn to darkness. I do not wish to become a monster."
Prudence struggles to her feet, comes to me, and takes my hands. "You can't become what you are not. Fear not. This magic can be as much a gift as a curse. Bertram was dark because of the choices he made. You will choose better." She pats my cheek. "Esme, take me to my room. I find this talk has exhausted me."
Esme jumps up to do as Prudence asks.
Alone in the parlor, I sit and drink my tea.
Henry clears his throat. "I hardly think you are capable of harming England, Will."
"Eavesdropping is a bad habit." I shift in my seat so I can look at him while he rounds the table and sits in the other chair.
It's rare for Henry to sit in my presence without an invitation. "Still, it's a habit I picked up in the service, and it comes in handy. You would never betray this country or these women."
"No. The man I believe I am wouldn't do those things. I'm just uncertain of what I'm becoming." I swallow down my fears and meet Henry's gaze.
"I see the same man who is my friend. The man who saved my life more than once. I have watched you conjure in that little room, and it is quite amazing, but I have noticed no difference in you, Will."
There is comfort in that. "And you'll tell me, or better yet, tell Miss O'Dwyer, if you notice a change?"
"You have my word." Henry stands, pats my shoulder, and leaves the parlor.
I sit until the tea is cold. I let the sounds of heartbeats both inside the house and out fill me with what is wondrous about magic.
Simon jumps into my lap, and we sit a while longer.
"I'm going up to wash and change, little friend. I suppose you will be the first to know if I'm a bad egg." I scratch the back of his head.
Intelligent eyes stare back at me as if the answer is obvious.
With a bit more hope in my heart, I go get clean from my swim.