This area of Cornwall had been chosen specifically because of its magical properties, and not just the land, but the community.
Stories were told to him when he was a child of his ancestors coming from Greece to establish a home, the welcome from the people of Bocka Morrow and the safety the village offered.
His mother may think nobody knew their secret, but they did, and always had. Either she’d forgotten the stories or chosen not to believe them, but Damon knew his family was safe here and he needn’t fear someone may say something to put his family in danger.
“Is it true that there are ghosts, mermaids and pixies in Bocka Morrow?” Bentford found himself asking.
“Are you testing my loyalty to the village?” she countered.
“No.” He chuckled. “I apologize if you feel as if you have been interrogated and understand if you don’t wish to answer.”
“You’ve spent your life protecting others,” she said quietly. “I understand your hesitancy to put faith in strangers.”
“As with you, from a very young age we are taught to hide the truth,” Damon admitted.
“You are safe in Bocka Morrow,” she promised.
“You are still not going to answer my question, are you?” He grinned down at her. “Are there really ghosts living in Castle Keyvnor, as well as pixies and mermaids in Bocka Morrow?”
“And witches,” she added.
He turned more fully toward her. “What have you seen?”
“Me? Nothing.” She chuckled though it was rather sad.
“Nothing?” he questioned in surprise. “Then maybe none of it really exists.” Though he hoped they did. He’d been fascinated by the possibilities when he’d been a child. It wasn’t until he was older that Damon appreciated the danger to anything or anyone possessing magical abilities.
“Adam encountered a rather murderous ghost at Keyvnor that tried to kill Charlotte, his wife,” Miss Cordelia clarified. “They weren’t married at the time but wed soon after. My oldest sister, Diana, was pestered by two ghosts who roamed the grounds of Keyvnor last summer. She has since married and moved away. Miranda, another older sister, used to visit with Uncle Jonathan in the attics of Hollybrook Park. She was the only one who could see and talk to him.”
“Uncle Jonathan?” Damon asked with a frown.
“Yes, He died in 1769 when his ship crashed on the rocks,” Cordelia explained. “Adriana claims to have encountered mermaids and Edward sees pixies.” She drew in a breath and shrugged. “Until a few days ago, and only because I’d climbed a tree, I’d witnessed none of the phenomena that the rest of Bocka Morrow takes for granted.”
She said it in such a way that it didn’t matter, but Damon had a feeling that deep down, it mattered very much to Miss Cordelia.
“Before you assuredme that all of Bocka Morrow knew our secret, I had assumed only Lynwood knew.”
“Why?” Cordelia asked, thankful that he didn’t wish to discuss the fact that she’d not seen anything magical.
“I knew Cadmus had told him,” Bentford admitted. “The two were good friends from when they first arrived at Eton, especially after the summer we were here and the two spent hours exploring.”
“My brother has fond memories. I was only twelve when it happened, but I recall Adam taking your brother’s death hard. I’m sorry that you lost him,” she offered.
“Thank you.”
Cordelia had lost one brother and that was nearly two years ago. She couldn’t imagine losing another sibling.
Bentford looked down at her and leaned closer.
Cordelia wasn’t quite certain what he was about, though she was far from alarmed.
“Now that I’ve shared our secret with you, it is only fair that you share one with me.”
Was he teasing or serious?
“It is so I am certain you will never tell anyone what happens at Nightshade Manor,” he whispered in warning, however, his light brown eyes held only humor and the side of his mouth quirked as if he were trying not to smile.
“I have no secrets,” she lied. Witches were not the only ones who were protected in Bocka Morrow.
