Page 28 of An Enchanting Dare

“I am not running away,” she whispered, though he did not mistake the lack of volume for a lack of anger. Oh, she was furious with him. “And you know nothing about it.”

“Then why not tell me?”

She laughed then, shaking her head. “Perhaps I should. Perhaps I should tell you everything, because if I did, you’d leave. You’d not be able to get away fast enough,” she said bitterly, sneering at him, though her angry bravado only made his heart hurt.

“Is that why you don’t want to tell me, because you think I’ll leave? I wouldn’t. I’m not such a feeble creature. Why not trust me?”

She stared at him, and he sensed her desire to do so, to throw caution to the wind and give him the truth.

“Aisling,” he whispered, reaching out to touch her cheek but stopping himself from touching her. Her friend, he reminded himself. His hand fell and it was he who jolted in surprise when she took it, holding it to her face.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned into his caress. Sylvester stepped closer, savouring the feel of her skin beneath his fingers. Please, he begged silently, wishing he could carry the pain of whatever it was for her. He longed to pull her into his arms, to hold her and promise her he would look after her, that he would protect her and never let her go, that he would let no one hurt her ever again. That was not his right, though. All he could do was try to be her friend, her confidant. If only she would let him.

“I’m not who you think I am,” she said, her eyes still closed. “You knew that from the start.”

“Yes.”

Her eyes opened and the pain there stole his breath. She nodded, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

“You were right. I’m not nice, sweet, shy Lady Aisling. I’m not nice at all. That’s what you could see, isn’t it? You knew it was a lie.”

“What? No! No, that’s not… I didn’t see that at all. Only that you were hiding, love. Please….”

She shook her head, and her voice trembled as she let go of his hand and moved away from him. “I’m a bad person, and I’ve made dreadful mistakes. I… I did a terrible thing, and now I must pay for that, and that means being alone. That means not dragging anyone else into the mess I made. I’m sorry, Sylvester,” she whispered. “I wish… I wish I could be what you want me to be.”

“Aisling!” He reached for her, but she shook her head again, the look in her eyes forbidding him to follow, though he took a step towards her.

“Leave me alone, Mr Cootes,” she said, and her voice was harder now, colder.

Sylvester cursed, watching her go as frustration and regret sat in his belly like a great lump of ice.

“I’m not letting you do this,” he muttered to himself as she disappeared into the garden. “I’m not giving up on you. Even if you’ve given up on yourself.”

Sylvester was determined to get some answers, but during the following days, Aisling avoided him like the plague, only appearing for dinner when he could not question her. At night he sat up, watching from his bedroom window. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he felt certain he was right. At Christmas, he had seen Aisling leave Rowsley House in the dead of night, all alone, and eventually, she would do it again here. Why he was so certain he could not say, but that certainty sat in his guts like a lump of lead and would not let him sleep. Had she been meeting a lover? Was the man so unsuitable they only met in secret? Was he married? The questions circled his mind and, even though he knew it was jealousy that fuelled them, he could not fathom why she would creep about alone at night. He told himself he was being ridiculous and wasting a good night’s sleep for no reason, but still he persisted. No matter how he reasoned with himself, he could not let himself rest, even though the castle was huge, and he could only look out over a small portion of the grounds. The chances of him seeing her leave were slim, even if he was right.

Aisling was hiding, though, and unless he discovered something solid that she could not deny, she would keep her secrets locked up tight and he could never help her.

It was well after one in the morning on the second night when movement caught his eye. If he’d not been on the lookout, he might have thought he’d seen a ghost, not that he believed in such nonsense. Yet the ethereal figure glided silently beneath the waning moon, her white nightgown catching the dim silver light as she hurried through the garden.

Sylvester stood, watching the path she took carefully, before hurrying outside and following.

She knew it was a risk with Sylvester in the house. He was too determined to play knight in shining armour. Aisling could feel his gaze upon her, sense his frustration and his desire to help. That much, she believed. How could she not when his sincerity shone from him? Yet he was a man, and he would not understand. Men never did. Even Biddy allowed that much, and she liked Sylvester. Aisling liked him, too. She liked him too much, liked bickering with him, and she wished he would leave almost as much as she wanted him to stay. There was no time for wishing and daydreams now, though. Mama had sent out the invitations weeks ago. The party was tomorrow, and now there was a prickling of danger beneath her skin. He would come. Even though he wasn’t invited, he would come, and he would accuse her in public and there would be a great scandal, for she could not tell a barefaced lie. Mama and Papa would be shamed, and poor darling Cara would be ruined, and the family caught up in a scandal so profound it would take generations to live it down.

Why now? Why, after so many years, had that letter arrived? If someone knew what she’d done, why had it taken them so long to act upon the knowledge? Though she had no reason for certainty, instinct told her who her accuser was, and it was bad. Very, very bad. He would make her pay, of that she had no doubt.

There was no other choice. The moon was waning, and she must do it now or lose her chance.

Biddy had always taught her such work was best done out of doors, with the earth beneath your feet and nothing between you and the moon. Which was a pity, as it would be so much easier to do it in the privacy of her room, but she was too desperate to take a chance.

Though the day had been unseasonably hot, the night was chilly, more so down by the river’s edge, where a sharp breeze caught at the thin cotton of Aisling’s nightgown and made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Ignoring it, she got to her knees, facing east, and laid out a velvet cloth embroidered around the edges with gold thread. A large jar of salt came next. Aisling poured the salt and drew a circle counter clockwise around her. In her mind, she imagined a wall encircling her, protecting her from harm. She took four coloured candles from the small cloth bag she carried, setting them around the cloth and lighting them reverently, inviting each element into the circle. She let out a breath of relief, comforted by this familiar part of the ritual. In the centre, she placed a small saucer and then removed the black candle from the bag. Working carefully, she scratched the ruis and the straif runes into the base of the candle, and then wrote a name in the wax from the bottom of the candle, working towards the wick.

The crack of a twig snapping had Aisling sitting up with a gasp, her eyes searching the darkness. Far off, she heard the dreadful scream of a fox and shivered. She waited, her heart thudding, and the candle flames guttered in the breeze, but all was still again. Aisling fumbled in the cloth bag, hands trembling as they closed upon a tiny glass bottle. She pulled out the little cork stopper and poured a few drops of oil into her hands. The scent of spices and pepper warmed her, calming her nerves as she anointed the candle and set it down on the saucer.

Aisling took a moment to breathe, to remind herself of her intentions. She would cause no harm, not this time. This time, she only wanted to keep him away, to protect herself and her family. Focusing on her desire, she opened her eyes and lit the candle. She watched it take, watched the first drops of wax liquefy as the flame took hold.

Aisling closed her eyes again and inhaled deeply. She brought to mind the face of the man she did not want here, never wanted to see anywhere near her or her family.

“With the power of the elements living in me, your presence here will never be. No more harm will befall my blood. Get thee gone, be out of my sight, leave me in peace alone in the light. I name thee to banish thee—”