Bernard rarely smiled. That was why his wife looked so startled when he entered the kitchen shortly after breakfast. He was grinning from ear to ear and looked quite pleased with himself.
He approached Margaret with a bounce to his step and kissed her soundly. “A good day it is, Margaret!”
Margaret smiled; delighted her husband was in such a fine mood, even though the weather itself was foul, storm clouds having moved in with the dawn to deposit a steady flourish of rain. “If you say so, Bernard.”
“Oh, but I do, I do,” he insisted. “I am on my way to the study, a summons I have been waiting for and looking forward to. I think that His Lordship has finally come to his senses and intends to dismiss Sarina.”
Margaret disagreed but did not wish to deflate her husband’s good mood any sooner than necessary, though she felt the need to warn him. “Dagon has a kind heart. He may wish to give her another chance.”
Bernard’s smile vanished. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Margaret shrugged. “Dagon does not judge people lightly.”
“That I can agree with, but he is also no fool, and it would be foolish of him to retain her useless services.”
“He may find something appropriate for her to do.”
“Heaven forbid,” Bernard said on a dramatic sigh. “I don’t think there is a chore she can do without causing a problem.”
“She is young and requires patience.”
“I have had all the patience with her that I can stand,” Bernard insisted. “My staff here at Rasmus Castle is skilled and efficient in their duties, and I will not have a novice ruin its reputation.”
Margaret shook her head at her husband’s stiff, retreating back.
o0o
“You wished to see me, sir?” Bernard said, his smile having returned and his demeanor pleasant upon entering Dagon’s study.
“Yes,” Dagon said, slipping several papers into a folder on his desk. “I have decided that Sarina would serve well on the first-floor staff primarily in the small receiving parlor. I don’t think she could get into much trouble there or cause much damage.”
Once again Bernard’s smile vanished. “I disagree, sir.”
Dagon expected resistance from Bernard and handled the man with patience. “I understand your reluctance to keep Sarina on the staff. But I think we should give her another chance.”
“I have given her more than sufficient chances, and she has repeatedly proved she is not skillful enough to handle her duties—any duties, for that matter.”
“Still I feel the need to give her more time to adjust to her new environs and perhaps show improvement.”
“We are not a teaching center, sir.”
Dagon cast a sharp look on Bernard. “No, we are not, but we are witches, and witches see to the care and safety of other witches. I will not turn a clumsy witch out on her own.”
Bernard realized he had spoken out of term and softened his tone. “I’m sure I could find her an appropriate position elsewhere.”
“I’m sure you could,” Dagon said, his irritation apparent in his intense blue eyes. “But I wish for Sarina to remain in my employment until I direct otherwise.”
Bernard knew his place and kept his tongue. “As you wish, sir.”
Dagon stood and walked from behind his desk. “I understand how she must have tried your patience, and I regret the disturbance she has caused the castle, but my decision is final.”
Bernard nodded. “Perhaps I should place some of the parlor antiques in storage for the next few days.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“I will see to directing her to her duties,” Bernard said and turned to leave.
“Bernard,” Dagon called to him and he turned. “Perhaps you should see to the removal of the older antiques.”
Bernard nodded once again, and as he turned around to leave he smiled.
o0o
“You will dust every item in this room,” Bernard instructed, handing Sarina a feather duster. “With fine-toned skills it would take little time to complete this chore, but since your skills need improving I intend to give you more than adequate time to finish.”
“I appreciate your patience,” Sarina said, nervously glancing around the room that held a variety of breakable and expensive items.
“Do not rush. I prefer the chore be done properly instead of inadequately.”
“Yes, sir,” Sarina said and stared at the collection of paperweights that graced the glass-top sofa table.
“Let me know of any problems,” Bernard instructed.
She nodded and was finally left on her own. She walked around the room carefully admiring the beautiful ceramic pieces that she was aware dated to the eighteenth century, and then there were the crystal bowls and the fragile lamps hand-painted with the most stunning pictorial scenes.
The furniture was a beautiful blend of soft velvet mauves with gentle greens and beiges. The colors worked well in the print of the plush sofa and the solid mauves on the Queen Anne style chairs enhanced the setting. It was a warm welcoming room that frightened Sarina.
Her hands trembled just thinking about touching one of the priceless items or knocking over one of the charming lamps or breaking a crystal vase that had survived more years than Dagon.
She sighed and stared at the duster in her hand. “If only my powers were as they should be, this room would be dusted in a flash, far faster than the witches on staff could possibly manage.”
Procrastination was not something Sarina prescribed to, so she got right down to the matter, though with gentle hands and careful steps, and soon felt more at ease as she proceeded to succeed at her chore without a problem.
Her thoughts turned inward to her own home not far away. It was not large by any means though to her it was a castle and she missed its warmth and comfort. The last few months had been difficult. She had first attempted to solve her problem without leaving familiar surroundings, but as it grew obvious that approach would fail her, she made the decision to travel in hopes of finding a solution. So far she had not been successful, though she had enjoyed her travels, but now her journey seemed endless and that was unacceptable.
What was also proving unacceptable was the feelings Dagon’s kiss had stirred last night. When she returned to her room, she could think of nothing but Dagon and the way she had felt at home in his arms and the taste of his lips so sharp and tangy and full of passion. She shivered at the memory.
While her sight worked well for others, it failed her and she could not turn to it when in a quandary. And she certainly was confused, and it didn’t help that her powers had dwindled near to vanishing.
She felt on the verge of tears. She had never expected a spell to be cast on her. She had never harmed another witch, offering accurate guidance to those who sought her talent. Her mistake had been offering that guidance when it had not been asked.
Last night, in her fanciful dreams, she had thought perhaps it was Dagon whom she had been waiting for and who would provide the solution to her problem. But in the light of day she realized that her words of the previous evening rang true.
He was not whom she needed, and she was not whom he sought.
And he had not sought her out since last night, proving he felt the same as she did. The dark night, the sweet fragrance of the last blooming roses, and lusty desires all added to temptation and were the reasons they had kissed.
Her mind so heavy in thought caused her to almost drop a delicate antique candy dish, and she sighed with relief when she finally righted it in her grasp.
“Are you all right?”
Dagon’s unexpected voice startled her, especially since he had just been in her thoughts, and the fragile dish once again fumbled in her hands.
His first thought was to direct his finger to the slipping dish, then realizing his magic powers would not work, he hurried over to her side and caught the dish before it hit the carpet.
He placed it on the sofa table.
“I’m sorry,” she said, upset that those words were so constant and necessary to her vocabulary.
“Nonsense, my unexpected appearance startled you and caused the dish to slip from your grasp. You have done well here.”
Sarina gave the room a quick glance and realized that she had done well. Not a speck of dust touched the many pieces she first had been afraid to touch. The room actually sparkled and she smiled.
“You are comfortable with this chore?”
“Yes,” she answered eagerly. “The room welcomes and the pieces are so beautiful. You collected them through the years?”
“Some were gifts, others I purchased myself in remembrance of special moments. I placed them in this particular room for, like you, I feel it welcomes.”
Her eyes had traveled over him with interest as he spoke. He looked quite splendid in dark gray trousers and a light gray sweater. His long hair was pulled back, accenting his gorgeous blue eyes and handsome features, and Sarina couldn’t help but admire his fit form and good looks.
“Yes, I welcome you,” she said without thinking and quickly amended her slip. “It welcomes you. The room welcomes you.”
He smiled. “I have disturbed you enough. I will leave you to finish your duties.”
“Yes, yes, I have much to do,” she agreed, knowing her thoughts would never settle nor would her nerves if he remained close by.
He was about to walk out the door when he turned. His smile teased. “Do you intend to walk in the gardens tonight?”
Was he daring her to? She had no intentions of finding out and creating a worse situation than she was already in.
“No, I intend to spend the evening reading in my room.”
“The gardens no longer hold an interest to you?”
His probing held a hint of enticement she found hard to ignore. “The gardens proved very interesting.”
“I thought so myself,” he said and with an intentional sweep of his sensual blue eyes over her body his smile broadened, “although a feather duster could prove even more interesting.” His soft laughter trailed him out of the room.
His suggestive words froze Sarina in place, her eyes closing as a shudder racked her body. He certainly could work magic with those titillating eyes. She could only imagine what he could do to her body with a feather duster.
“Margaret requires help in the kitchen.” Bernard’s command startled her and the feather duster went flying up in the air.
Bernard didn’t stay around to see where it landed. He simply shook his head in disgust and walked away.
o0o
Dagon relaxed in his bed that evening, a book in hand and a glass of red wine on his nightstand. His mind could not focus on the words he had been attempting to read for the last fifteen minutes, and he closed the book finally giving up.
He had been busy all day with international business calls and working on his computer. He had several deals pending that needed his constant attention, and he saw that his mind remained clear to handle them. But come suppertime, a rather late one since his business took him past his usual supper hour of eight; his thoughts began to drift toward Sarina. And there his thoughts had remained for the rest of the evening.
He had purposely sought her out during late morning, convincing himself he wanted to make certain she was doing well at her newly assigned chore. It was a poor excuse and he knew it. Bernard always saw to the staff and he had preferred it that way, and while he was familiar with his staff members he rarely, actually he never directly dealt with them. Bernard had all the power where that was concerned, that was, until now and Sarina.
Dagon reached for his wineglass and sipped more than a mouthful. Ever since their kiss in the garden he couldn’t get Sarina off his mind. No matter how much he chased her from his thoughts, she would hurry back and torment him.
He recalled in vivid detail how she tasted, a sweetly tart raisin-and-rum mixture, perfect flavor that had him wanting a second helping. And feel—lord, but her body felt good pressed flat against his; soft curves, gentle angles, and smooth roundness just aching to be stroked.
He downed another generous swallow of wine before returning the near empty glass to the nightstand. All those vivid details had come rushing back to haunt him as soon as he laid eyes on Sarina in the small parlor.
The standard black skirt and white blouse for female staff members never caught his eye before, or perhaps it was that the plain garments fit Sarina so well. And her shiny brown hair looked as if it was forever falling from the pins that attempted to keep it in place. Even the low-heeled black pumps she wore on her feet, while plain and nondescript, did wonders for her slender legs.
“Damn,” he mumbled. He tried to convince himself it was that he was simply in need of a woman. He needed to vent his energy, and yet when he thought of several women he could call that would eagerly oblige him, he found himself uninterested, his thoughts returning to the bumbling witch on his staff.
He punched his pillow several times, turned it over, then over again, and plopped his head down on it while slipping his naked body farther under the soft cotton comforter. He would rise early and take himself off to Edinburgh for the day. There was some banking business he needed to attend to and a friend or two he could call on, and a day away from Sarina would do him good. His absence from the castle and her presence would give him a better perspective on the situation. And who knew, he just might decide to stay overnight if a generous and interesting invitation presented itself.
o0o
Sarina stood at the parlor window and watched Alastair close the door of the Rolls-Royce right after Dagon had entered it. Dagon had looked exceptional in a black wool suit, a white-and-black finely striped shirt, and a red tie with the finest of black lines running through the silk material. His black cashmere overcoat served to keep him warm on a cold autumn morning and added to his tasteful attire. His long hair had been pulled back in a pewter clasp that looked to be an antique, and she wondered over its origin.
She didn’t think there was ever a time Dagon didn’t look good, and she laughed recalling the day gobs of suds covered him from head to toe.
“You have duties to attend to,” Bernard said from the doorway. “There’s no time to dally when you take longer than most to finish your chores.”
Sarina smiled, pleased with the initiative she had taken. She had set her alarm clock for five-thirty and had started her chores at six hoping to be done with her chores at a more reasonable time. That was why she was so pleased to announce, “I’m all finished.”
Bernard looked doubtful and made his way around the room, running his hand over every piece of furniture and every item from the lamps to the paperweights. “So you are, and a fine job you did.”
Her smile widened. Bernard might be staunch in his demeanor, but he was fair. If a job was well done, he saw that compliments were given, and if one excelled in her duties, rewards were generous.
He came to stand in front of her. “Since you did so well and have free time, there is a chore that requires attention, though I must warn you it is not a pleasant one.”
She knew he was testing her—she could read it in the rigid expression on his face—and she had no intentions of failing this one, but first she sensibly inquired about the chore.
He explained. “The hearth needs sweeping out. The old ashes must be shoveled and removed to the bin outside and new logs stacked for a fire. Do you think you are capable and willing to do this?”
Sarina did not mind dirt. She had played often in the woods as a child, and she still loved digging her hands in the earth and feeling her energy. A little soot would do her no harm. “I think I can do it.”
“Fine,” Bernard said, “but if any problems arise, I want to be notified immediately.”
“I won’t hesitate, sir.”
He nodded, pleased with her minor progress, though certain of no miracle.
Sarina didn’t waste a minute. She went straight to work. She spent extra time in preparation, spreading canvas cloths around the surrounding area and moving any furniture or items that could be damaged by any accidental spillage of ashes. She obtained several old sheets from Margaret to spread over the chairs and furniture closest to the hearth. She was taking every precaution to assure the room suffered no damage in case of a mishap.
A tin bucket sat on the canvas cloth and a long handled brush and shovel lay against the stone fireplace. A shorter handled brush and dustpan waited near the bucket, and she had changed her white blouse to an old gray flannel one.
All set to work she reached for the long-handed brush and shovel.
o0o
Dagon loved Edinburgh, especially the old town where cobblestones still paved the streets and the slim alleys between buildings gave way to small restaurants with exceptional menus and a variety of shops that attracted tourists. He often toured Edinburgh Castle knowing more about the huge stone edifice than any tour guide or recorded tour could provide.
It was the memories that drew him there and to various places throughout Scotland, never failing to strongly touch his emotions. But today he had no time for the castle. He had a meeting at the Bank of Scotland and then lunch with a business associate. And if there was time he hoped to get to the National Galleries of Scotland.
He was well acquainted with an assistant curator there, and he thought he would stop by and pay her a visit, perhaps even see if she was free for supper this evening. There was no rush to return home, and he intended to enjoy himself.
o0o
Sarina wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her hand, not realizing she left a trail of soot on her forehead. But then the streak went well with the soot that dabbed her cheeks and settled in the corner of her mouth. Her appearance did not concern her, her chore did, and a fine job she was doing.
The hearth area was swept clean, the andirons wiped off, and all looked ready for the new stack of wood. At least she thought it was when a small spat of soot fell from within the chimney to dirty one andiron.
She frowned and bent her head slightly as she entered the mouth of the large stone hearth. She could then stand straight and cast a curious eye up the dark chimney. Her hand touched the sides, though it was too dark to see anything, and when she removed her hand she shook it.
Her palm was completely black.
She stepped out of the hearth and grabbed the long handled brush. She was determined to do a good job and make certain this hearth was clean. She returned to her position inside the fireplace and began to carefully brush at the soot-covered walls of the chimney. She reached higher and higher as the soot began to fall away, and when she could reach no further, she retrieved an old step stool and continued.
How she managed to work her way up the chimney walls she didn’t recall; perhaps it was her determination or her lack of sense, but by the time she realized how far up she had climbed, she was wedged good and tight in the chimney.
Every attempt she made to free herself only managed to wedge her in tighter, and soon her shoulders and arms began to ache from the constriction of the harsh stone walls. All her wiggling and tugging did nothing to help, it only hindered her predicament.
She thought to call out for help and stopped. She felt like a fool; a complete and utter idiot who could do nothing right. How many servants got themselves stuck in the chimney?
What was she to do?
A sigh only managed to make her cough from the soot that spilled into her mouth. She could wait and see if anyone came to check on her, or she could swallow her pride and call out for help. The thought of Bernard hearing her pitiful pleas kept her silent, and she prayed fervently for a miracle.
o0o
Dagon waited for Linda to finish for the day. All had worked out so perfectly for him that he wore a generous smile of anticipation. His business meeting went better than he had expected, lunch proved even more fruitful, and when he entered the National Galleries, Linda—a blond and beautiful mortal—stood right inside the doorway.
Her pleasure at seeing him and his invitation to take her to supper brought him a soft peck on the cheek and whispers of how much she missed his occasional visits. All leading him to believe he just might receive an invitation to spend the night.
To continue to keep his mind as busy as it had been all day and off the witch who persisted in haunting him, he browsed the galleries, enjoying the distinguished works of art. He lingered over the French neoclassical landscape paintings of Francois-Xavier Fabre and then moved on, wanting to view J.M.W. Turner’s work.
Dagon walked into the next viewing room, and Linda approached from the opposite entrance, coat in hand and a wide sexy smile on her pretty face.
It was then his cell phone rang.