“Animals,” she looked down at her hands as she answered. “I understand them. Can speak to them. They also speak to me.”
Her voice was so quiet that he needed to lean closer. Philip had heard her much better last night when he had stood in the garden out of sight.
“I do not think I have ever known anyone who talked to and understood animals.”
“There is a witch in Bocka Morrow who does, but it is a rare gift, I am told.”
“It is an interesting magical ability, but not an active one, such as changing a tide or transporting.”
Lady Antonia looked up to stare out over the water. “Nor does it serve a purpose.”
She seemed rather disappointed, though Philip would love to speak to animals, especially his stubborn horse.
“Is that your only magical ability?”
She winced and bit her bottom lip.
“Is there another?” he asked with curiosity.
“I do not speak of it often because people tend to avoid me when they know.” She was once again looking down at her folded hands.
“Can you read minds?” He truly hoped that wasn’t the case.
Except, if she could, perhaps that was why she had avoided him. In London he had hoped for a courtship. Had she no interest in such, only in waltzing, and is that why she did not make herself available at any other time? Was that her way of discouraging him?
Bloody hell! What if she did read minds and now knew of his inner thoughts?
“Auras. Not minds.” She smiled.
“Does everyone have an aura that you can see?”
It was a simple enough question and one that she could easily answer.
“Yes, Lord Chedworth. They do.”
“Will you tell me mine?” His smile and the twinkle in his eyes reminded her of a child hoping to learn a secret.
“Your colors shift between yellow and orange and often blend.” Antonia frowned as she studied him closer. “Today you also have a hint of pink.”
“Is pink bad?” Chedworth asked.
“None of the colors are bad.” She chuckled. “A person can display one or two colors at a time, but today you have three.”
“Is that significant?”
“It is likely because you are in the midst of a change.”
Chedworth pulled back and frowned. “I am not. There are rarely changes in my life.”
That was true. At least, that is what she had come to count on in London and since she’d been at Nightshade Manor. If anything, he was steady, nearly predicable, so why did he have a third color?
It was an oddity, but she did not pick up on anything alarming, and therefore decided that whatever it indicated was likely mild and insignificant and the third color would likely soon disappear.
“I can think of no other explanation for three colors,” she finally said.
Lord Chedworth frowned. “I visited the Romani yesterday and the fortune teller said that I will undergo several changes before the next full moon.”
Fortune tellers like to make predictions that do not reveal anything at all. Further, a full moon was a good fixture in time and far enough away that anything could happen to fit with what they’d predicated. While she believed that some truly had the sight, most did not.
