*
“My lord!” Adelaidecried out weakly. “You have come!”
Thomas had just entered her lavish bower, immediately noticing his mother sitting next to the bed. As Jordan stood up and patted her boy on the cheek, Adelaide extended a bandaged arm to him.
“I am so happy you have returned,” she said. “I kept the weather clear so your journey home would be unhindered by terrible weather. The night is still clear, is it not?”
Thomas’ resolve to do his father’s bidding was already in danger of wavering as he listened to her spout nonsense. “It is a clear night,” he said. “May I express my deep regret at your father’s death. We are all very sorry for you, my lady.”
Adelaide’s face twisted into a grimace. “He was murdered,” she hissed. “Murdered by thieving scum.”
“I know,” Thomas said evenly. “I intend to do something about it.”
Her face lit up. “You do?” she gasped. “I am deeply touched that you would do such a thing for me. You have my deepest gratitude.”
Thomas was uncomfortable with her thinking that he was doing this just for her. “My father and I were just discussing it,” he said, clarifying that William was in on it, too. “We shall come up with a plan to punish those responsible for your father’s death, I assure you.”
Adelaide suddenly sat up in bed, waving about her mummy-wrapped arms. “And I should like to help,” she said. “I shallturn the weather terrible and stormy, and flush them out of their holes with torrents of water. You can catch them more easily that way.”
Thomas honestly had no idea what to say. He turned to his father as if to beseech the man for help, but there was no help to give. He’d come into the chamber resigned to do his duty and marry the woman, but as the seconds ticked away, he was losing ground. He didn’t want to disappoint his father; he truly wanted to do his duty. But that duty included marrying a psychopath.
“Adelaide,” Jordan spoke up. Having been sitting near the bed, she clearly heard the woman’s madness and could no longer keep silent. “Whoever told ye that ye could control the weather, lass?”
Adelaide looked at Jordan as if only just noticing her. “Well…everyone,” she said. “My mother told me that I had the gift.”
“What gift?”
“As atempestarii.”
“A storm witch?”
Adelaide smiled. “My mother passed the gift to me,” she said. “She wastempestarii, also. She could control the weather by spitting into the wind. I can control the weather with my blood.”
Jordan’s eyebrows lifted slowly. “Yer blood?”
Adelaide nodded. “I know you think it is foolish, but it is true. These cuts on my arms are not for my benefit, but for the benefit of the weather. Something in my blood controls the weather– like tonight, for example. I ensured the weather was clear so that Thomas could return to me unhindered.”
Jordan didn’t tolerate foolishness, not with her children or husband or anyone else around her. She knew that Thomas was more than likely hanging on by a thread to his vow to do his duty, to marry Adelaide, but that wouldn’t last if the woman kept going on about being a storm witch.
“Adelaide,” she began. “I want ye tae listen tae me, lass. Can ye do that? Stop lookin’ at Thomas and look at me. I am speakin’ tae ye.”
Adelaide complied, but it was difficult. “I hear you, Lady de Wolfe.”
“Good,” Jordan said. “Now, I am goin’ tae tell ye somethin’ truthful, somethin’ that no one else, includin’ yer mother, has evidently told ye. Only God can control the weather, lass. Yer blood has nothing tae do with it. When ye cut yer arms, ye’re only hurtin’ yerself and upsettin’ Thomas. Do ye understand that?”
Adelaide expression morphed into one of confusion. She looked between Jordan and Thomas. “But why should it upset him? He is a warrior. He has seen blood before.”
Jordan struggled not to become annoyed. “Because it is unfittin’ for a young lady tae cut herself up and smear her blood on the curtains.”
“But that is how my blood controls the weather,” Adelaide insisted. “And I shall pass the gift along to my children. My daughters will betempestarii,also. It is passed from one generation to the next.”
Jordan sighed heavily. “Lass, have ye spoken tae the priests about yer gift? Have they told ye anythin’?”
Adelaide seemed to falter. “My mother said the priests would not believe us,” she said. “I’ve not been to church since I was a very young child. In fact, I do not remember the last time I prayed.”
“Ye dunna pray tae God, lass?”
“My mother did not believe in God. She only took me to church because my father insisted.”
