Then a gentleman, older woman and three young girls got out and glanced around. Perhaps they were lost or had taken a wrong turn. Except, that road hadn’t even existed until a few moments ago.
She recognized the woman to be the Marchioness of Chandos, but she did not recognize the gentleman or the girls.
Why was Lady Chandos here and why hadn’t she brought her daughters or husband?
This was all very strange.
Two of the younger girls raced toward the tree she and Edward were sitting in and the gentleman turned in their direction. She waited for him to call out, because Cordelia was certain that he’d looked directly at her.
He was the most handsome gentleman she’d ever seen, or perhaps it was simply that something called out to her. She’d already had four Seasons, but this was the first time her breath had lodged in her throat, pulse sped, and heart pounded.
She shook those thoughts away. It was the fear of getting caught, and nothing else, and she waited for him to demand to know why she and Edward were spying on them from a tree.
But he didn’t. He turned away.
“This is very odd,” Cordelia whispered.
“Shush. Just watch.”
Chapter 2
Since the incidentwith the butterflies, Ianthe had been ever obedient and anxious. Damon promised that she’d learn more about her abilities but that it had to wait until they were at Nightshade Manor and far away from where others might see. As a precaution, he also had a maid sew pockets on the outside of her dresses so that whenever they were out of the carriage, Ianthe could keep her hands hidden and not accidentally point and wish. The only time she took them out was when they dined so that she could eat, but then they needed to be hidden again. Damon had feared she’d argue, given her recent petulance, but the frogs, birds and rain had scared Ianthe enough that she didn’t want to risk doing harm, for which he was grateful.
The carriage slowed and finally came to a stop at the far edge of the drive. His nieces hadn’t been back here in three years. That had also been the only time the girls had visited Nightshade Manor – the estate belonging to the Drakos family—the family of his mother. Further, it had only been for a short holiday so that they could become familiar with the estate to prepare for this day.
It had also been open when they’d arrived, not shielded as it was now, a precaution always taken when a family wasn’t in residence.
Damon was concerned how they might react to being back here since it was where they’d gotten the news of their parents’ death. They’d never been told the details, or even how or why it had happened. Simply that they’d died. Unfortunately, it was now time that they learned the truth once they were settled in and rested from their travels.
In the carriages behind them were the servants who were already familiar with the estate. They were the very ones who always traveled with them between the family estates in Kent and Cornwall. Further, many had once been residents of Bocka Morrow, or their ancestors had been, and several still had family in the area. Witchcraft didn’t frighten them and they understood the importance of discretion and secrecy.
Damon also knew that many of the servants who traveled with them had already sent word to family members that they’d be needed at Nightshade Manor. These were the servants who had no wish to leave the area but were happy to be of service when any member of the family was in residence. In no time, they’d descend upon the manor and make it habitable after being vacant for two years. His mother may have many powers but snapping her fingers and ridding a place of cobwebs and dust was not one of them.
A footman opened the carriage door, and his mother stepped out first, followed by his nieces and then Damon. He braced himself for their reactions as to what was about to happen.
“Blackberries,” the girls cried and ran toward the brambles.
That wasn’t what he was worried about, but perhaps it was best if the younger two were distracted for the moment.
“You need to stay with us, Ianthe,” he said.
Her shoulders slumped as she returned to them. “I am not to have blackberries either?”
Ever since the incident at the garden party, she’d been so afraid, and now, when denied even the simplest thing, like picking blackberries with her sisters, Ianthe assumed she was being punished.
Damon crouched down on the balls of his feet, balancing so that he could look her in the eye. “Soon you may have all the blackberries you wish, but Grandmother has something important for you to try first.”
“Come with me, Ianthe.” His mother then led his niece before the horses and carriage, facing the bramble that grew away from where his other two nieces had descended on the berries. “See if you can make the bramble part.”
Ianthe glanced back at Damon as if asking for permission.
“You may even point while you wish.”
Slowly she pulled her hand from her pocket and pointed. “I wish the bramble to part.”
Leaves fluttered and a few berries dropped.
“It will happen in time,” his mother assured Ianthe and then held out her hands and whispered words as the bramble separated and curled away to reveal the entrance to the estate.
