He’d just finished adding the coveted biscuits to the plates he’d prepared for his nieces when squeals from several women echoed from the pond. Setting the plates aside, he made his way toward them and paused when he noted frogs hopping from the water and landing near those who had not yet run away.
Odd that, but frogs did come out of water. Turning, he made his way back to retrieve the plates when more screams erupted right before bird droppings landed on his arm. It was then that he noticed a sizeable flock of birds had flown in and landed in the trees, and he wasn’t the only one who’d been assaulted. Similar droppings adorned many of the other guests now. Parasols that had been used more as an adornment and for protection from the sun were quickly unfurled and lifted to protect the guests from the birds.
Damon quickly glanced first to his sisters, but they were as surprised as anyone else. He then found Miss Perkins in the crowd, but she was also stunned. In fact, by the reactions of the various faces of the women, those who were frightened and huddling under parasols were those he need not worry being matched with. The women who were curious or surprised, but not hiding, were the witches his mother had invited.
At least this incident allowed him to quickly identify who it was best to avoid.
If none of the guests of his sisters had been the cause, then who? Unless it was a coincidence, which was possible, but when witches were about, he had a hard time believing such oddities a random happenstance.
With those thoughts, his gut tightened, and he glanced up to Ianthe.
She was staring out the window with wide eyes. She was certainly as shocked as everyone else, but deep down, Damon feared that she may have something to do with the frogs and the birds.
Just as he was about to return to the manor and pull her from the window, one single, large cloud rolled in and the skies opened with rain, scattering the crowd. As their guests ran for every available entrance into the manor, Damon sprinted around them and to the door leading to the kitchens. Once he gained access, he raced up the servants’ stairs until he gained the nursery floor. By the time he arrived in the chamber, Ianthe had pulled back from the window and sat huddled in the corner of her bed, deathly pale, but still watching out the window as if afraid.
Her maid rushed into the room right after Damon and he pulled her aside. “You were to tell me when she…got her courses,” he dropped his tone to a whisper. Beatrice had been assigned to Ianthe not long ago for the single purpose of alerting them when the changes would come about.
“She has not Lord Bentford. I swear.”
Damon glanced over to his niece. If that were the case, perhaps she hadn’t caused the calamity outside. But it was unlikely the frogs, birds and then rain were a coincidence, unless one of his sisters had thought to liven up the party but managed to hide their guilt.
No. They knew better than to do so. Not only would mother not be pleased, but they were aware of the danger of being discovered. Besides, neither had power over the weather, just nature, or what was of the earth: plants and animals and such. Even if Ianthe’s gifts were waking, she shouldn’t yet have the power to alter the weather. That gift was a rarity…his gut tightened again. Damon knew of one person who had once controlled the weather and it had been Ianthe’s mother. His grandmother could command that of the earth and his sister-in-law had commanded the wind and rain. Had Ianthe inherited both abilities?
“Leave me alone to speak with my niece.” Though there were no secrets from the maid, these matters were usually discussed in private.
“I am sorry, but the biscuits were ruined in the rain.” He slowly approached her bed.
Ianthe turned to her uncle as tears flooded her eyes. “I did not mean to,” she cried.
“Mean to what?” he asked gently. He’d yet to share the specific talents she’d inherited from the family simply because it was a discussion for when children were old enough to understand the importance of keeping their secrets. Ianthe should have been told by now, but Damon had kept putting it off.
“I was angry at not being able to attend Grandmother’sfête champêtreand thought it would be funny if all the frogs hopped out of the water, and then birds would fly about leaving droppings behind, and then rain would come to ruin the party.”
“You thought of all that, did you?” He tried to sound calm, almost humoring.
“I just thought it Uncle Damon. I truly did. And pointed, pretended, like I had seen Aunt Larisa do when the ladder fell and almost hit Aunt Selene.” She blinked up at him. “I thought it was just pretend or I would never would have been so mean.”
He was going to have a talk with his younger sister. Larisa should know better than to let anyone see her perform magic, even if it kept another from harm. They had rules for a reason—to keep them all alive.
He ruffled her hair. “I am certain you did not intentionally mean any harm.”
“If I knew that I could wish for something, it would have been butterflies.” She waved her finger in a circle and in the blink of an eye, the sleeping chamber filled with butterflies of every color.
Her eyes widened with excitement and no longer fear. “I can wish for anything, and have it?” she asked as she lifted her hand again, finger about to point, but Damon covered it.
“No,” Damon said calmly. “You cannot have anything you wish for, nor can you do what you just did under any circumstances.”
Ianthe pulled back, fear in her grey eyes. “Am I evil?”
“No, darling,” Damon assured her. “You just need to be very careful.”
“Damon…” his mother called as she stopped at the entrance to the chamber. She took in the room of butterflies before looking at her granddaughter, a sentimental smile upon her lips. “It is time we retire to Nightshade Manor.”
“You are sending me to Cornwall?” Ianthe cried. “Because of frogs, birds and butterflies?” Tears welled again.
“It is not a punishment, Ianthe, I promise,” Damon said to his niece. “We will have fun, you and me and grandmother.”
“And her sisters,” his mother insisted. “By the time Ianthe learns, it will not be long before it is time for Nephele, and then Clio. In fact, son, I doubt you will live anywhere else for the next three or four years. If we expose the other two to what I will be teaching Ianthe, they will be much better prepared when their time comes.”
