Poppy hoped her sister was right. For a brief moment, she considered asking Dawson or Phelps if they remembered carrying the trunk to the attic or where they might have put it, but she worried they might mention it to Mrs. Manley or even Caroline and then she and Laurel would have to explain themselves. So, Poppy sighed and resigned herself to a full day spent in the dusty attic.
“A bit of luck that Captain Galbraith knows something of magic,” Laurel said as she continued her search.
An image of the handsome cavalry office flashed in Poppy’s mind and she bit back a smile.
“Ha!” Laurel grinned. “I knew it!”
“Knew what?” Poppy asked, standing her tallest to face her sister.
“You fancy him. I can tell it.”
“I barely know him.” Poppy rolled her eyes, wishing once again that she’d been blessed with brothers instead of cursed with sisters.
“Barely knowing someone has never stopped anyone before.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re blushing.” Laurel’s light brown eyes danced with delight. “I think he looks dangerous with that scar on his cheek.”
Poppy had seen his face in her dreams so often over the last year, but she’d never thought of him or his scar as dangerous. “I think it gives him character, and it’s not all that noticeable.”
“He’s noticedyou.” Laurel laughed.
“You are insufferable. Do you know that?”
Laurel shrugged nonchalantly. “Anyway, how do you suppose he injured his leg? In a fireball fight with an evil warlock? Or perhaps—”
“Will you just look for the trunk!” Poppy turned back to the matter at hand and yanked at a sheet that covered a piece of furniture. In a blur, something dark flew from under the covering. Startled, Poppy fell backwards with a shriek, landing on her backside.
“What was that?” Laurel rushed to her side.
Poppy stared up at the ceiling to find thebatwhose slumber she’d obviously disturbed, flapping its wings in panic near the rafters. A moment later, it settled near the ceiling where…
…at least a dozen other bats hung upside down!
Her heart was pounding as she pointed at the ceiling and forced out the word, “B-bats!”
Less than a second later, she and Laurel bolted from the attic as fast as their slippered feet would carry them. They raced through the corridors and didn’t stop until they reached the safety of the small sitting room where Aunt Alora had once changed their lives forever. The pair of them collapsed in a pile on the settee.
Then a fit of laughter overtook Poppy. She couldn’t help it. The ridiculousness of everything.
“What is wrong with you?” Laurel demanded.
Still laughing, Poppy shook her head. “We must be the worst witches in the realm. For seers, we can’t see anything. And a family of bats just had us running for our lives.”
“Well, anyone with any sense would have run from that attic.”
Poppy couldn’t imagine Alec Galbraith running from any such thing. She shrugged and said, “Perhaps, but didn’t those witches in MacBeth say something about ‘wool of bat’?”
Laurel snorted. “I do not plan to get close enough to abatto ask for its wool.”
Neither did Poppy, but she didn’t say as much.
“Wool of bat refers to holly leaves,” came a now familiar voice from the threshold.
Poppy’s heart pounded even faster when Alec stepped into the sitting room, leaning on his cane, his light ashy eyes warming her even from the edge of the room. Goodness, he was handsome. His dark hair, his chiseled jaw and that slight scar on his cheek that made her pulse race…
She and Laurel quickly righted themselves and smoothed their skirts across their laps.
