Chapter 1
Nightshade Manor, Bocka Morrow, Cornwall, England ~ December 1814
Quiet beauty was Lady Samantha Ellis.
Delicate with rich mahogany hair and eyes light as a winter sky. Her smile calmed his soul and Cassian Jourdain had been beguiled by her from the moment she stepped into the ballroom at Nightshade Manor.
That had been nearly two months ago and nothing had changed.
She had come for the Witches’ Ball but remained after the conclusion to be with her friends, which included Lady Antonia Kerrigan, who had needed help to find or create a spell.
Cassian had been mesmerized at the Witches’ Ball and even though there was magic all around him, he knew that no spell had been cast to alter his perception. Unfortunately, her father was a wealthy earl, her brother a viscount and it was because of Lady Samantha that he became more determined to change his future and fortune, even though his current circumstance may have cost him the option to pursue her.
Not may have, it had and thus the reason he was simply polite whenever they found themselves in the same room, such as now, where a few had gathered for afternoon tea.
“Is there a chance that we can visit the Sacred Grove again. The one where we performed the last spell, Lady St. Alban?” Lady Samantha asked.
Lady St. Alban was the woman who had raised Cassian. He could not call her mother because he’d already had one. His mother may be gone, but that did not mean that he wanted another mother or to forget the one that he’d had. But to call her Lady St. Alban was too formal so they settled on Eugenia, her given name, and Cassian called her husband St. Alban because calling him Richard would have been too informal.
“You are welcome to visit anytime you wish. Any female is allowed,” Eugenia answered. “Males are the ones who need to seek permission from the Dryads, except for Cassian.”
Lady Samantha glanced over, her head tilted to the side, eyebrows slightly raised.
“He can come and go as he pleases,” Eugenia concluded with a loving smile. “Cassian, why do you not take Samantha to the grove following tea.”
“I do not wish to be an inconvenience,” Lady Samantha murmured as a delicate rose stained her cheeks.
“It is not,” he assured her, even though it most certainly was, but he was not prepared to explain to Eugenia, or anyone else, where he needed to be or why.
“Thank you,” Lady Samantha murmured then looked back down.
There was a delightful shyness about Lady Samantha, except it wasn’t present when she spoke with her friends, or anyone else, for that matter. Just him, and Cassian could not understand why. Then again, he was the only person at Nightshade Manor who had not encouraged a friendship.
“The post has arrived,” the butler announced as he approached Eugenia, a silver tray balanced on the palm of his gloved hand.
“Goodness, there are quite a few missives,” she exclaimed. “Invitations to the wedding were only posted a sennight ago.”
Cassian already knew that most of the guests would decline because the nuptials of Chedworth, who was Lady Eugenia’s son, and Lady Antonia were set to take place the day after Christmas and many of those invited had just been here at the end of October to attend the magical ball.
“Samantha, there is a letter for you.”
She nearly jumped from her seat and crossed the room to retrieve it.
“Thank goodness!” she exclaimed. “It is from my mother. I was beginning to wonder if she had received my letter or the invitation to the wedding.” She then broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.
“Will your parents and brother attend the wedding, or do they want you home for Yule and Christmas?” Antonia asked anxiously.
Lady Samantha’s blue eyes brightened and her cheeks rounded as her smile widened. “They shall attend and have granted me permission to remain.” Then she grew serious.
Thank goodness that had been their response. Otherwise, Lady Samantha would need to immediately start packing so that she could be home in time for the winter Solstice.
“What is wrong?” Antonia asked when the happiness Cassian had witnessed faded as her smile fell and her dark eyebrows drew together.
“My father says that you should not wed on the twenty-sixth.” She looked up from the missive. “He insists that you marry on the twenty-seventh.”
“Did he say why?” Chedworth demanded.
“He did not but he will explain when they arrive.”
