“I saw the snow over your head.”
“Yes, well, you may presume as you wish.” He smiled. “I feel it is my duty to marry a witch, who is not Miss Perkins. It is expected of me.”
“Even if there is a chance that you won’t be happy?”
“Yes, because I hope for the same for my sisters. I would have them protected more than in love with a gentleman who might one day fear or hurt them if they ever learned.”
As much as this conversation pained Cordelia, she had to respect his decision.
“However, I had not counted on meeting you. Nor did I expect to feel so strongly for another in such a short span of time.”
They could have finished this conversation without him having said that to her. It brought forth the loss she’d suffered yesterday. At the first prick of tears, she blinked and looked away until the urge to cry passed.
“If you were a witch, my decision would be an easy one.”
That may be the nicest thing he could say. It wasn’t a declaration, but close enough. And the fact that she was being rejected only because she didn’t possess magical powers took some of the sting away. Though it also reminded her that she was nothing special. Simply normal.
“And though I know it isn’t right, I do want to know what it is like to kiss you.”
Cordelia stared up at him. Should she allow him to do so? Would it only make her long for more even though she knew that it was impossible? But if she didn’t allow this, she would always wonder and that could be worse.
“I would like to know as well,” she finally said.
With those words, Bentford bent and cradled her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers. It was a gentle, loving kiss and Cordelia was certain her heart melted as tears flooded her eyes.
He then tilted his head, brushed the seam of her lips. She parted and he delved.
Goodness! Not only had her heart melted, but her entire being was becoming warm, and her limbs grew limp. Cordelia grasped his arms for fear her knees would give out. Though perhaps not. Something was wrapping itself around her legs and climbing over her hips. Startled and in fear there was a snake, she broke the kiss and looked down only to discover that flowering vines had grown and wrapped around her and Bentford and they were climbing up their bodies.
“Make them stop,” she said in a panic.
Bentford simply laughed and gently pushed them down, as if on his command they ceased growing. Yet, they were wrapped tightly together and if anyone came upon them right now, she’d be completely ruined.
“Our fate has been sealed,” he murmured and kissed her again.
“Fate, what fate?”
“Flowering vines will be your answer,” he said.
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s what Brighid said to me that day. She sensed my turmoil to duty and wanting you.”
Cordelia’s mouth popped open. She’d dismissed the statement because witches and gypsies often said things that had no meaning.
“She also said,You believe you want one thing when it is another that you need.”
“What did you believe you wanted?”
“I wanted to honor my family.”
Cordelia glanced down at the vines still woven about their lower bodies. “Are you certain you are not the sorcerer, Lord Bentford.”
“Damon. Call me by my name.”
“Are you certain you are not a sorcerer or warlock, Damon?” He had to be. Vines don’t simply grow like this unless there is a witch about.
“I can assure you that I am not.” He grinned. “However, you are the one who has bewitched me.”
