Page 30 of An Enchanting Dare

“I think you know why,” he said, though he didn’t meet her eyes.

Aisling pressed her lips to his cheek and he turned, staring at her with surprise.

“I’ll never wash again,” he said, grinning.

Despite everything, she smiled, feeling a swell of affection for the daft creature. He was still here. He hadn’t abandoned her. Yet, murmured a spiteful voice in her head.

“So, Biddy…?”

Aisling nodded. “I saw her casting a circle, much as I was doing here, and she had no choice but to teach me, for I pestered and badgered her for weeks on end until she gave in.”

“Your parents?”

She shook her head. “No one else knows.”

He watched her steadily, and she sighed, knowing she must try to explain. “Mama knows I have knowledge of herbs and medicine, as she does, but she has never been interested in more than that. But I am. Women have so little power, Sylvester, but magic, that is ours. It’s old knowledge, passed from generation to generation and it is nothing to be afraid of. It’s worked for the good of all. I’m very good with herbs, medicinals. People come to Mama and to me as well as to Biddy for cures. I do good work with my skills usually, except… except it can be misused. I misused it because I was angry and afraid. I did a terrible thing and laid a curse, and I must pay for that. There is always a price. I wouldn’t care if it was me alone who would suffer, but it won’t be.”

“So, this curse, it was against the man you were trying to keep away from here?”

Aisling plucked fretfully at the lace edging the sleeve of her nightgown. Fear stirred in her belly. If she told him he would know everything, know the worst thing about her, and what could a man do with such knowledge? She knew what some men would do, what one man had tried to do, to his cost. Sylvester said nothing. He just waited patiently, giving her time. She looked up to find he was watching her.

“Trust me,” he said, cupping her cheek with one hand.

Oh, she loved his big hands, so warm and capable, and she turned into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“I won’t let you down, Aisling. I promise.”

She swallowed. “Very well, but it isn’t about letting me down, Sylvester. It’s about what I have done, and what you will think of me when I have told you. I could not blame you if you are disgusted, if you want to leave me to reap what I have sown. It’s justice, after all.”

“Let me make that decision for myself, love, eh?” he suggested, though she could see disquiet in his expression.

So be it.

Chapter 11

Cher Monsieur,

Have you been invited to Trevick? I hope so, for it seems an age since I saw you last. I bumped into Mr Godwin—quite literally—last week at a garden party. He nearly knocked me off my feet, though he was so mortified I could not be cross with him. I believe he was flustered as he was in pursuit of Lady Millicent, and she had a bevy of admirers about her, all demanding her attention. Personally, I thought none of them could hold a candle to Mr Godwin for he is such a kind man and so sweet natured. He looked very fine. Your hand at work, it appears. He sang your praises most enthusiastically. Indeed, I believe he has put you on a pedestal and means to do all in his power to make you proud of him.

― Excerpt of a letter from Miss Evie Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight) to Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen.

28th June 1841, Heart’s Folly, Sussex.

Louis sighed and folded the letter, putting it back in the pile before taking up another. He poured himself another drink and sat back, letter in hand, rereading, though he knew well enough what it said.

Oh, you’ll never guess. I had my first proposal of marriage yesterday! Mr Cooper, of whom I spoke to you, asked to speak to Papa. It surprised me that Papa agreed to it, except I believe he knew I would turn the fellow down and thought I ought to speak to him myself. Honestly, it was mortifying. The poor man blushed and stammered so. I don’t know which of us was the most embarrassed. I almost accepted him just to make it stop.

I think I let him down gently. I hope he doesn’t hate me now, but I only told him the truth, though I fear that I might have left him room to hope, which may not have been a kindness. I am far from ready to think of marrying anyone, though. I want to have some fun before I tie myself to a husband and a household. Goodness, how flighty I sound, but you know that is not what I mean. I just don’t want things to change. Not yet.

He stared at the words, wondering if he ought to be pleased by them or to despair. She did not want things to change. What did she mean by that? It was obvious she was not ready to marry. He wasn’t a fool, and he meant to give her the time she needed, but….

Anxiety gnawed at his heart. Did she mean she did not wish for him to stop being her friend, because if she married another, their friendship would be over? Any husband would forbid her from such a close relationship with a man like him, even if he could bear to see her again if she married someone else. Jamais! Never! That would never happen. If she did not marry him…. Fear made his guts clench, twisting into a knot and making him want to retch. He would have to go away, far away, and… and he did not know what. It wouldn’t matter where he went or what happened to him if he couldn’t keep Evie in his life. It would all be over. His one hope for the future snuffed out.

Merde.

He sat with his head in his hands, staring down at the words she had written without seeing them.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”