Page 19 of Lord of the Darkness

“Well, I remembered something you once told me about the potions and salves that your mother used to make for the villagers,” Benedict hesitated, swallowing nervously, then decided to get right to the point – even if he wasn’t sure that what he was about to ask was anything more than foolish superstition, “and I was wondering if you still had any bottles of love potion.”

“Love potion?” James gave a gentle laugh, “that was always one of mother’s more popular potions.”

“So the servants’ gossip informed me, years ago. Which is why I hoped…”

“I think I may still have one in the workroom of my cottage, but why do you need it? Who could you possibly be trying to seduce, given that you already have a wife?”

Benedict’s eyes didn’t quite meet James’.

“I need it for my wife.”

This admission evoked a cry of surprise from James.

“In all the years that my mother made potions, the love potion was probably the most commonly requested item — but as far as I know, no one ever bought it for their spouse. And you are only just married, so why…?”

Feeling remarkably foolish, but determined to see this through, now that he had already embarrassed himself, Benedict explained to James the state of his marriage since the night of the wedding - how Ariana refused to engage in marital relations; how she had recently begun sleeping in another room - defying his requirement of her, and how her father’s advice had proven more abusive than helpful.

“The situation feels completely hopeless at this point,” he said. “I’m getting desperate, and I just wish that there was something I could do to get her to love me – or at least like me.”

“Well, a love potion would certainly do that. It would create a powerful attraction which would make you irresistible to her. But are you sure that a love potion is what you really need?”

“If it would mend the rift in our marriage, then yes, of course. Some would call me foolish to even believe in the possibility - but I’m desperate. Frankly, when you live in a place like Darkmire Abbey, which feels full of ghosts and other oddities, it’s not so hard to believe that a potion might work.”

James nodded, considering his old friend closely.

“Indeed. But tell me… how do you feel about your wife? Do you love her? Or was this a typical ton arranged marriage?”

Benedict turned his eyes away from the misty lake, and locked his gaze to James’ green eyes. How did he feel? The answer which rose in his mind in response to that question shocked him. He loved her. Somehow, through all of their arguments, all of her stubbornness, it had made him see the strength in her, the beauty which went beyond the physical. Which meant that, if this didn’t work, he was doomed to a life of unrequited love.

“I love her.”

It was baldly said, but James just smiled.

“Then come to my cottage tonight, and we’ll see what I’ve got.”

***

Ariana had barely seen Benedict for days, and when she had, they had greeted each other coldly, formally – she might as well have been living with a stranger. But that was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? To be left alone?

Except… she was not just alone, but lonely.

All her life, she’d not had much chance to be lonely, for her parents had always been there, involving themselves in her day.

She’d thought that being left alone would be wonderful – but now – perhaps it wasn’t, after all. She might have been forced to marry Benedict, but she was beginning to see that, as men went, she could have been far worse off. It could have been Lord Jasper…

Ariana shuddered at that thought, the memory of his intense pale blue eyes on her when she had spoken to him the day after her wedding making her feel oddly disturbed. He had not wanted to accept her request to leave her alone – and she’d been glad when the servants had found her, and escorted her back to the house – glad, because Lord Jasper could not follow her there.

Benedict, whilst he annoyed her, and whilst she still knew very little about him, did not make her feel disturbed like that. Rather the opposite. Alarmingly, the less time she spent with him, the more appealing he seemed to her. He was handsome, and except when he tried to be dictatorial, he had treated her kindly, politely – when he had no need to. As her husband, he could do whatever he liked to her, and be within the law – no one would question him, as a Duke.

The last three weeks of barely seeing him had made her actually miss those moments when they had been together. Even an argument seemed preferable to this cold isolation, where she had no one but the disapproving staff and the mournful ghosts of this place for company.

Perhaps, when he returned from wherever he had gone today, she should actually try to talk to him?

***

James’ wife swung open the door to his cottage when Benedict knocked, and waved him inside.

“Good evening, Your Grace. James is in his workroom – the one his mother used to use. I’ll just show you through.”