‘Oh my. We shall be quite comfortable all the way to Buckinghamshire.’ Cynthia declared, making herself at home in one of the overstuffed chairs.
Clio decided upon the hunter-green settee, leaving the chaise and a second wingback free for Grey to take, but the infuriating man sat next to her on the couch. She refused to move closer to the side. If he was determined to invade her space, the last thing she would do was grant him more room. In point of fact, she shifted to the centre of the cushion. Let him move out of the way for her. She was not retreating.
Pulling off her leather gloves, she leaned forward to pour herself a dish of tea at the exact moment Grey reached out for a sandwich. Their hands brushed. Small sparks burst brightly between their fingers as the gas lighting in the carriage flickered and flared.
Damnation.
It was embarrassing that she kept losing control of her magic around Grey. Ellie’s list of indicators for a spirit match echoed through her head.
‘He provokes your magic…’
Balderdash! He provokes my anger, and that sparks my magic. This is a test from the goddess to gain greater control over myself. That is all.
Control she would begin exerting immediately.
Cynthia looked at the lamp nearest her and laughed. ‘We must be getting ready to depart. What a miracle of technology to be able to light these carriages with gas. It’s a wonder it works at all.’
Grey looked from their hands to Clio. ‘A miracle, or magic?’
Her heart thumped painfully.
Did he suspect? And what if he did? Would he burn her at the stake? Turn her in to the magistrate? Demand she be condemned? Or just walk away? Because he certainly wouldn’t accept her.
‘Some might argue they are the same.’ She added milk to her tea, forcing her voice to remain steady and the heat of her power to stay contained in her chest.
‘Magic and miracles, the same? I beg to hear your explanation.’ Grey placed his sandwich on a plate and leaned closer to her.
She could feel the energy zinging between them, building power, readying to crack into white-hot flame.
Clenching her teeth, she took a deep breath and willed it away, forcing the magic to dissipate like smoke while she concentrated on her argument. ‘One man’s faith is another man’s fallacy. One man’s truth is another’s delusion. Religious zealots see miracles, mystics see magic, and fools see evil to be feared. The unknowable depths of the universe confound us, so we try to create reason out of chaos. Inventing rules we can play by brings comfort many crave, but accepting life as an unexplainable mystery brings enlightenment few achieve.’
Grey’s gaze sharpened. ‘Would you consider yourself enlightened, Miss Grey?’
‘I consider myself constantly bewildered by life’s inconsistencies.’ It was a disconcerting truth she hadn’t realised until it spilt from her lips.
‘And so, you seek control.’
Dear goddess. I do. I want control because nothing is guaranteed. Mother lost everything. So did Aunt Willow. They gave themselves up for their husbands. Mother abandoned her family and her magic. Aunt Willow allowed her gift to be twisted into something insidious. Both traded autonomy for obedience. Sacrificed control for comfort. And the fates ruined them.
It was a path Clio refused to walk. But it was also something she would never share with Thomas Grey.
‘You believe deeper understanding is found by embracing the unknown, so what might you find if you let go?’
Fear, unfamiliar and profound, flooded her system at the very thought.
Damn this man for pulling back the veil. Who does he think he is? My bloody spirit guide?
Or perhaps her spirit match.
Impossible. Spirit matches are not real.
Distance was necessary. Clio stood abruptly and moved to the seat opposite Cynthia and farthest from him.
‘Trains sometimes make me ill. I would hate to cast up my accounts all over your lovely jacket, Grey.’ She was lying. And retreating. Two things she loathed to do, and both because of the vexatious, stupidly intelligent, highly antagonistic man.
Settling in her new seat with a dish of tea she no longer wanted, Clio looked out the window and willed the train to depart. The sooner they left, the sooner they would arrive at Burnham station where she could escape Grey’s watchful gaze. He had promised to uncover her secrets.
Damn the bastard for trying to keep his promise. But he will fail. I will ensure it.
