Bentford abruptly turned toward her. “I am going to share another secret with you, Miss Cordelia, and hope that I can trust you.”
“Of course.” She couldn’t imagine what it would be.
“It will help explain why my mother is so unyielding in protecting the family and keeping people away from Nightshade Manor.”
Now she was intrigued, especially if it explained the cool greeting from Lady Chandos. “I promise, I will hold your secret.”
Bentford said nothing else, and Cordelia feared that he might have changed his mind in confiding in her. Instead, he led her on a path of flowering bushes and plants, unlike any garden she’d ever seen. There was nothing ornamental as one encountered on other estates, but it was quite delightful in its design, which was no design at all. Just dirt paths with stepping stones that wandered in different directions and around an array of flowers and bushes.
“It’s my mother’s garden, and those who came before her,” Bentford offered as if he could read Cordelia’s mind, which he could not.
“The plants serve a purpose, and not for their beauty or pleasure. Some are also quite poisonous.”
It took a moment and then she realized that these plants were for spells and magic. Did Brighid have a similar garden and was that where she gathered plants for her teas? It was a question she’d like to ask but likely never would.
“Now that we are where no one can hear us, I’ll explain my mother’s worry,” Bentford said as he led her to a wooden bench beside a Witch Hazel bush. Rather appropriate she believed.
“My brother and his wife were killed three years ago.”
“My brother told me,” she said.
“Did he tell you why or how?”
“Only that they were murdered.” She looked up into his brown eyes. “I am very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” He blew out a breath. “Someone had discovered that my sister-in-law was a witch. Witchfinders murdered them.”
She knew there was such a thing, but there hadn’t been a concern in Bocka Morrow for years and Cordelia had hoped that they no longer existed. “I am so very sorry,” Cordelia said for lack of any other words. “Ianthe’s parents?”
“Yes, and two other daughters, who you saw eating berries. They are Nephele and Clio. They do not know the how, but they were told the why.”
Her heart and chest ached for his loss, and the daughters who had become orphans. No wonder they feared outsiders learning their secret, for which Cordelia could hardly blame them.
“That is why my mother is so fearful for the girls and why they come here when it is time to get their powers.”
“Get their powers?” she asked, rather confused. “Aren’t they born with them?”
“Yes, but a binding ceremony is performed before they can even crawl,” he answered. “It was a practice begun generations ago because infants and young children do not know better and if they accidentally use their powers in front of the wrong person, it could not end well for the family.”
“Witchfinders,” she confirmed.
He nodded.
“And Ianthe is just now getting her powers.”
“Yes. The binding begins to release when a female comes of age, which is usually between the ages of twelve and fourteen, and then they must learn to control the power.”
Goodness, when a witch received her powers was about the time…Had nobody considered the added danger of an emotional girl at the most confusing time in her life also getting magical powers? Who had thought that was a good idea? Of course, she couldn’t mention something so personal to Lord Bentford.
Then she realized he said females. “What of the sons? Are their powers bound as well?”
Bentford shook his head. “Only females with Drakos blood are witches. The males are not.”
“I’d not realized.” Had Adam known?
“Nightshade Manor is also for the protection of others,” he continued. “Powers are unpredictable, and it is safer if nobody is around who could be harmed.”
“Harmed?” Cordelia asked in alarm. “She’s with Edward right now. Is he in danger?”
