* * *
Gaius Darkwood was sure the temperature of the house had risen ten degrees since he entered it with Miss Cassia Retton. His nerves hadn’t calmed and he paced in an agitated mess.
No girl had ever refused his arm before. And no one had ever not found his ideas agreeable when he used his magic on them. How had his powers not worked with Cassia?
Caliazo turned from the stairs and looked at Gaius. “Miss Cassia seems a smart, pleasant girl.”
“Perhaps,” was all Gaius could muster. Why had his cousin noticed her good qualities?
As soon as it stopped raining, he would find his horse. He needed to ride.
As far as his valet had informed him, very few people in Hertfordshire hadanymagical abilities. Miss Cassia Retton was not one of them—he had been informed about the Rettons specifically. Her father had an ability for the word, retaining knowledge of everything he ever read, but for some reason had not used his ability in any special way for several years. He had been ranked a master as a young man by a local authority, but Gaius found it strange the man didn’t use his power. Master Retton’s eldest daughter had the wonderful attribute Blythesome noticed yesterday, of contagious amiability, though it was so underdeveloped no one but a very skilled mage would recognize it as a magical ability.
The Lywins were all hebs, having no discernible magical ability. The rest of Mistress Retton’s family had no magic, either. There weren’t even the occasional anomalies that sometimes manifested themselves in a non-magical family.
So if anyone could have challenged or fought against his strong magic, it shouldn’t have been her. His gift was business acumen, with an ability to persuade people to believe and have confidence in whatever he said. He could create mental pressure, artfully moving, weaving, and bending a person’s thoughts to more closely align with his own, like a subtle push of persuasiveness they were unaware of. He could never control their minds, but he could make his ideas seem much more appealing. So he had rubbed his thumb and fingers together, trying to persuade Cassia to take his arm, but she had refused. Outright!
Even powerful high mages thought his ideas clever when he employed his subtle magic. This ability was a secret his family had bartered from Merlin in the beginning, unlike most magical families whose magic manifested in various abilities. This ability hadn’t always been used for good, and its draw had surely had its effects on his family. His mother had it in spades, and his aunt too.
The Rettons, he was informed, did not have their girls presented before a magistrate to assess their magical title of mistress. And with no present ability, of course their family employed no governess to hone the girls’ talents. Surely no one in Hertfordshire had gone through the schooling of those with true ability to master their power and present themselves for magical ranking.
Caliazo had watched him think for another moment but must have sensed the brooding man wanted to be left alone, for he stepped into the drawing room.
Gaius opened the front door, stepping onto the patio in the rain. His thoughts drew him back to the fine eyes, their dark amber hue almost glittering with gold, and the sure, quick tongue of Miss Cassia. It couldn’t be possible she had abilities no one knew about; he would have felt it if she had.
But his abilities hadn’t worked just then, a gentle press of a good idea. Instead, it had swirled away—turned back somehow. That had never happened before.
It frightened him.
* * *
By the late evening it was determined Gynelle had indeed caught a chill. A letter was dispatched to Longbourn, and Blythesome urged the sisters to stay until she was well enough to be moved.
Cassia spent most of her time upstairs with her sister, attending to her every need. She wasn’t afraid to ask for what she thought would help Gynelle, and Blythesome was more than willing to oblige. She did, however, have to endure strained dinners downstairs with the gentlemen for the next two evenings.
“I do hope we can return home tomorrow,” Cassia said to the gentlemen their third evening together.
“Are you sure she is well enough?” Blythesome couldn’t ask enough times at every meal after her sister.
“She is much improved. You’ve made her so comfortable here. The healer you sent for was so skilled, helping her fever break so early. I am sure she would not have had such careful treatment anywhere else, even at home.”
Blythesome smiled widely. Caliazo then turned toward her. “And I hope, Miss Cassia, that you have felt no ill effects from our time in the rain?”
“Oh no,” Cassia said, looking him in the eye. “I have been fortunate to possess the strength of the family. I am a prodigious walker.”
“What a fine thing to be sure,” said Caliazo with a large smile which accentuated a becoming dimple on his right cheek.
“You don’t often walk alone, I trust,” said Darkwood, who had been brooding and silent most evenings, only recognizing her with a few glares.
“On the contrary, sir, I am not afraid of a solitary ramble now and again.”
High Mage Darkwood just shook his head. The cold pressing wind met her neck for a moment then seemed to disappear.
It was clear Blythesome hated the tension. “I am glad the healer did his work well. As for tomorrow, I will make sure the carriage has ample cushions and blankets.”
“Thank you so much,” said Cassia as she wiped the napkin across her mouth. “I should return to my sister,” she said, excusing herself from the room.
The three men stood, two smiling, and one with a strangely pensive scowl.
