Page 56 of An Enchanting Dare

I miss you terribly, you dreadful man. I am well behaved and perfectly polite to everyone, and if I don’t explode and have a temper tantrum soon, I shall run mad. But you are the only one who enjoys my displays of ill temper, and I need you to come and provoke me soon. When shall I see you again?

― Excerpt of a letter from Lady Aisling Baxter (daughter of Luke and Kitty Baxter, The Earl and Countess of Trevick) to Mr Sylvester Cootes.

12th August 1841, Trevick Castle, Warwickshire.

Aisling closed the door to Biddy’s cottage with a sigh, shutting out the sound of gunfire as men took advantage of the ‘glorious twelfth’ and the opening of the hunting season. “Oh, I am so sick of that sound! Why must men go about shooting things?”

“It’s in their nature, I suppose,” Biddy said equitably. She was stirring a pot over the hearth and the pleasant scent of herbs filled the room.

At least here in the cottage, all was peaceful. Aisling crossed the room to kiss Biddy’s cheek.

“What’s that?” she asked, peering down into the cauldron with interest.

“My supper,” Biddy replied, winking at her.

Aisling laughed and flopped down in a chair with a heavy sigh. Biddy looked up from the simmering pot and regarded her with sympathy.

“Instead of moping about, you could do something to bring him back to you. I know a sweet little spell that would do the trick.”

Aisling frowned. “I promised myself I wouldn’t practise magic anymore, Biddy. You know that.”

Biddy clicked her tongue impatiently.

“It was your idea to deny myself something important as a sacrifice for what I’d done,” Aisling pointed out as the woman scowled at her. “You said it would ease my conscience and bring balance back to my life, warding off any ill luck.”

Biddy set the spoon aside and wiped her hands on her apron. She shook her head, still not happy about Aisling’s decision. “I know that, but I thought you’d choose something more frivolous, like dancing or listening to music.”

“It won’t work unless it’s something important. Besides, how am I supposed to do that?” Aisling demanded. “I think my parents might notice if I stop dancing next season or cover my ears every time the orchestra strikes up.”

“I suppose,” Biddy muttered. “But it seems a shame when you could just weave a bit of magic to bring the fellow back to you.”

Aisling smiled. “You liked him.”

The older woman shrugged. “Well enough. He made you happy again, which is a good recommendation. Still, I suppose there’s nothing to stop me from doing it on your behalf.”

“Oh, but that’s cheating,” Aisling protested, though the idea was an appealing one.

“Not if you don’t know about it.”

“But you just told me!” she exclaimed.

Biddy chuckled and put the lid on the big pot, swinging it off the flame. “Not when or where or anything. You don’t know if I’ll go through with it. Perhaps I shall wait and let fate take its course.”

Aisling snorted and folded her arms. “Fate will see me as an old maid, Biddy. That’s the trouble.”

“Oh, no, a leanbh. Fate has other plans for you and that young man, of that I’m certain.”

“Oh, Biddy, do you really think so?” Aisling said, hearing the note of desperation in her own voice. If anyone had told her at the beginning of the year that she would pine away, longing for Sylvester Cootes, she would have thought them stark staring mad. It was true, though. The wretched man had infiltrated her heart one maddening argument at a time, until she could not bear to think of her life without him in it. Yet he was determined to come to her father with better prospects than he had, and she could not conceive of how he was going to manage it.

She had almost confided in her mother, hopeful that she might take Sylvester’s part as she had seemed to like him a good deal, but then Mama liked everyone. If her beloved could not think of some way to improve his fortunes soon, however, Aisling would have to take matters into her own hands.

“When are you going to stay with your friends in Sussex?” Biddy asked.

“What? Oh, at the end of the month,” Aisling said absently, too consumed with thoughts of Sylvester to concentrate on the conversation. She was looking forward to seeing her friends, though, and she had a dare to accomplish too, though that was not something she was especially keen to think about.

As ever, Biddy seemed to know what she was thinking. “Will you complete your dare, do you think, then? Or are you going to make excuses?”

Aisling bristled. She might not be looking forward to it, but she wasn’t such a feeble creature as that. “I’ll do it!” she said stoutly.