A Lady and Her Magic

  “The portal can only be opened at midnight,” the gnome said.

  “Then we shall all meet at midnight?” Ashley asked the room at large. He needed to collect Anne. And secure the wayward Claire. Finn could help with that.

  “Where?” Sophia’s mother asked.

  Ashley looked from face to face but saw nothing.

  “Portals are found in bodies of water. Such as the fish pond in His Grace’s garden,” the gnome said. He sauntered to the window and thrust it open. “See you at midnight,” he called out as he fled through the opening. He was gone after a brief rustle in the bushes.

  The portal was in his very own garden? How the devil could that be?

  Thirty

  Ashley approached his daughter on quiet feet, content to look at her there in his garden as the sun played about her hair and she tilted her face up to the sunlight. She looked more content in that moment than he’d ever seen her. “I’m sorry I missed breakfast this morning, Anne,” he said, breaking the silence. She looked over at him, a small pout on her face.

  “Where were you?” She put her hands on her slim little hips and did the best imitation he’d ever seen of her mother. Yet a look of contentment still played about her face.

  “I had to see Miss Thorne off this morning.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “But I’m here now,” he assured her. He rounded the corner of the path, and was surprised to see his mother and his grandmother there with Anne. He bowed to them both. The governess, who he knew to be Claire, Sophia’s sister, was there as well. She dipped into a quick curtsy. “Good morning,” he said. Drat it all. He’d hoped to have a moment alone with Anne.

  “I had the strangest dreams last night,” Anne said as she brought a flower to her nose.

  “Not the terrifying kind, I hope,” he remarked.

  “Not at all. I dreamed happy dreams. About puppies romping in a field. With unicorns. And caterpillars that can talk.”

  “Nonsensical dreams,” his mother exclaimed. She shot the governess a look. “You really shouldn’t fill her head with such nonsense.”

  The governess looked up at Ashley with a wary gaze.

  “On the contrary, I think all our heads should be filled with nonsensical things. It makes life more interesting,” he said.

  His grandmother harrumphed and raised her ear trumpet to her ear. “What did you say? You say your mother is lacking common sense?” She laughed. “I have said that since the day your father met her.”

  Ashley covered a chuckle in his fist. His mother raised her voice at his grandmother. “I have plenty of common sense,” she called loudly.

  “If you did, you wouldn’t wear that awful shade of pink. It’s much too young for you.”

  His mother jumped to her feet. “I am a young woman,” she protested.

  “And I’m the queen of England.” His grandmother snorted.

  Ashley addressed Anne, “So, you had brilliant dreams about all sorts of mythical creatures.”

  “They’re not mythical,” his daughter countered. “They’re real.”

  “You can’t let her go on believing such things, Ashley,” his mother warned.

  He gave his mother a glare that felled her mid-rant. “On the contrary, Mother, I believe it’s healthy for the soul to believe in magic.” He shot a glance at Claire, who avoided his gaze.

  “What has gotten into you, Robin?” his mother sighed. “You used to be so focused. It’s that Thorne girl, isn’t it? I told you it was a bad idea for you to associate with her.”

  “Where did Miss Thorne go?” Anne said as she remembered his earlier comment about seeing her off.

  He sighed heavily and said, “She had to return home. Duty called her back.”

  His grandmother bellowed much too loudly. “I do admire her beauty. I quite liked the chit.”

  So did Ashley. He didn’t bother to correct his grandmother.

  A footman approached from around the corner. He bowed low. “Beg your pardon, Your Grace,” he said. “But Lord Phineas has requested entry to your garden. I wasn’t certain if you wanted to allow him admittance.” He waited patiently for a response.

  Ashley waved a breezy hand at him. “Oh, yes. I invited him. Please do show him in.” He turned to the group just as Finn joined them. He clapped Finn on the shoulder. “Finn and I had a long talk this morning.” He noticed his grandmother straining to hear with the trumpet by her ear and raised his voice. “I need to get your opinion about something. All of you.”

  “Out with it, Robin,” his mother said. “I have friends coming for tea in a few minutes.”

  “Heaven forefend I should interrupt your plans by telling you about my life,” he grumbled. She flushed only a little when she heard him. He took a deep breath and plunged on. “I’d like to take Miss Sophia Thorne as my wife. Of course, I have to retrieve her and ask her for her hand first, but I hope she’ll say yes.”

  He waited to see the reactions on their faces. His mother sputtered. “You cannot, Robin.” But at the same time, Anne twirled and let out a most unladylike whoop of joy. His grandmother smiled broadly.

  “An excellent decision, Robin. I may just have a great-grandson or two out of this one.” She labored to her feet, pointed to her cheek, and said, “Give me a kiss and go retrieve your lady.” He kissed her weathered old cheek fondly. “Give me one with the right parts and make me a happy old lady,” she warned as she walked back toward the entrance. “Come along, Duchess,” she said to his mother. “Stop your sputtering and let’s go prepare for your tea.”

  “You cannot join us for tea,” his mother warned. Of course, she was back to her own concerns quickly.

  “I’ll do just that if you don’t come along now.” Ashley’s grandmother snapped her fingers, and with a huff, his mother followed her out of the garden. But then she turned back to Ashley.

  “You know you do not have my approval.” His mother raised her nose in the air.

  “You know I do not need it, want it, or expect it,” he responded. She turned in a flurry of skirts and followed his grandmother to the door. That left him with Anne, Finn, and Claire. He dropped onto a bench beside Anne. “What do you think of my marrying Miss Thorne?” he asked.

  “I think it’s positively brilliant,” she beamed.

  “With all due respect, Your Grace,” Claire interjected, “what you propose simply cannot be done.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  He looked down at Anne and tweaked her nose. “I vote that we go and retrieve Miss Thorne at midnight, by way of the fishes.” He looked up at Claire, whose mouth dropped open. Ashley pulled a single vial of shimmery dust from his coat pocket and passed it to Finn, who took it with reluctant fingers.

  “It won’t blow me to bits, will it?” he asked.

  “I cannot be certain.”

  At the same time, Claire interjected. “It’s highly volatile,” she warned. “You should give it to me so it won’t blow up.” She held out her hand, which quivered just a little with what Ashley assumed was fear.

  Finn tucked it into his own pocket. “If it blows off my dangly bits, I’ll have you to blame,” he warned. Her face colored profusely.

  “Miss Thorne,” Ashley started. “I’d like for you to go now with my brother, Finn.”

  She looked even more shocked by that than she had been by the dust.

  “I’m not giving you a choice, Miss Thorne,” he said. “Finn will keep you safe until my return.”

  “You plan to use me as leverage.” Her eyes narrowed and her toe began to tap.

  “Perhaps I just want to spend some time with you.” Finn sucked absently at his teeth, a most annoying habit he had. “Don’t worry, little fae one,” he said. “I’ll take great care of you.” Finn looked a bit like a shark hunting for food.

  “Where are we going?
” She did not look amused. She looked worried. Very worried.

  “Well, if I told you that, it would no longer be a secret,” Finn said. “Come along and we won’t have to argue. I’d hate for my temper to cause this thing to explode.” He gestured to his pocket as he leaned closer to her. “My manly bits are at risk, you see.”

  She was not amused. She shot Ashley one imploring glance. “Your Grace,” she cried. “You will regret this.”

  He had a feeling Finn would regret it more. But he needed a hostage from the land of the fae just in case things didn’t go well when he got there. If he could get there at all.

  ***

  Sophia sat with her face buried in her open palms, taking deep breaths and trying to still her skipping heart. She looked up from between her palms by spreading her fingertips. “Grandfather put all this in motion?” she asked Marcus.

  “Evidently. He said he had some wrongs to right. He feels like this was the appropriate thing to do.” Marcus paced from one side of the room to the other.

  “No one has ever traveled to the land of the fae before who is not actually fae! What if Ashley is harmed? What if he brings Lady Anne with him and something goes wrong?” She brought her thumb to her mouth to nibble the nail.

  “Either way, I don’t see any good coming of it,” Marcus grunted. He flopped down behind his desk, obviously overwrought from all the pacing. “You cannot have him in your life, Soph. You simply cannot. You have to understand and accept that.”

  A slow crawl of fear sneaked up her spine. Her body warmed with the heat of recognition. “What if I can?” she whispered.

  “You can’t,” he finally snapped. Then he rubbed at his forehead in frustration. “I never should have left you alone on this mission. You have no idea how heavy my heart is with guilt right now.”

  “I completed the mission.”

  “And you broke every Unpardonable Error!” he cried. He jumped back to his feet and began his frantic pacing again. Then he stopped, leaned on his desk with the flat of his palm, and looked her in the eye. “You could be carrying his child.”

  Heat crept up her face and into her hair. She was probably as red as a beet.

  “You know what it was like living without parents. Sure, we had Grandmother and Grandfather. But it’s not the same.” He turned from her and dropped into the chair again. “Do you want the same fate for your child?”

  “I will never be separated from any children I bear. I will not allow it.” She dropped her voice down to a whisper. “Why do you think that I left him?”

  Marcus walked around the desk and cupped the top of her head in his hand. “Then don’t get your hopes up. He’s not coming to the land of the fae, no matter how much temptation Grandfather placed in his path.”

  “Grandfather didn’t make him fall in love with me,” she interjected. How dare Marcus discount Ashley’s feelings for her as being some of their Grandfather’s machinations?

  “You did that all on your own.” He lightly tickled the top of her head with the tips of his fingers. “I do believe he loves you, Soph, but spend your time on more worthy endeavors. Enjoy the memories you made, and stop wishing for more than it can be.”

  He stopped at the door and called her name. When she turned to face him, he stood in the doorway holding on to the doorjamb with one hand. “For what it’s worth, Grandfather only put the machinations in place to bring Mother home for a time. He didn’t do anything to make the duke fall in love with you. That was all you, Soph.” He clucked his tongue at her. “It’s too bad he’s not fae.”

  Thirty-One

  A hush fell over the land of the fae. The birds stopped chirping, the fireflies stopped chattering, and the spiders all slunk away into their hiding places. Sophia laid her quill on the desktop and looked around. Nothing seemed amiss. The walls weren’t shaking. No one was screaming.

  Marcus poked his head around the corner of the door. “Do you hear that?” he asked, his head cocked to the side as he listened intently.

  Sophia came to her feet. “I don’t hear anything.” Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong in the land of the fae. Buncomb and Margaret joined them in the corridor as they started for the front door. “Have you ever heard a quiet such as this, Buncomb?” Sophia asked.

  “Never, my lady,” he replied. His voice quivered and a shimmer of perspiration appeared on his upper lip.

  There was always chatter in the land of the fae. There was always noise, from sounds of the outdoors to the sounds of the kitchen and every place in between. Now, not even the whisper of the caterpillars could be heard.

  “Something is wrong,” Marcus said, scratching his head. The house faeries came to greet them at the front door, as though they looked to the Thornes to protect them. Sophia had no idea what could be wrong. Suddenly, an urgent thump began at the other end of the corridor.

  Sophia walked in the direction of the only noise in the land of the fae and found her grandfather, deathly pale and struggling with his cane. “Help me, Marcus,” he said, his voice labored.

  “Why are you out of bed?” Sophia cried as Buncomb and Marcus each slid under one of his arms and bore the weight of him.

  “Things are afoot in the land of the fae, and I do not intend to miss them,” he said. He pointed toward the door. “We must greet them.”

  Sophia mouthed to Marcus. What is he talking about?

  But Marcus merely shrugged.

  Perhaps Grandfather was just a bit mad with his illness.

  “Bring a chair for me,” he called, as Marcus and Buncomb carried him through the front door and out onto the walkway. A footman moved quickly to retrieve a chair and followed them out into the street. Sophia walked behind them and raised a fingernail to her lips to absently nibble as she looked up and down the street. People stood on their stoops looking cautiously toward the road.

  “Grandfather,” Sophia began. “Perhaps we should go back in the house.”

  “Perhaps you should let an old man have a moment of peace,” he groused as he dropped heavily into the chair. He mopped his brow with a handkerchief. “To the devil with getting old,” he muttered to himself.

  Suddenly, a fog broke at the end of the lane. The fog grew thicker until it became a colorful cloud, unlike anything Sophia had seen before. She stilled and watched as it spread.

  “They’ve arrived,” Grandfather called loudly. The Trusted Few appeared as though summoned.

  “This is highly irregular,” the oldest of the Trusted Few said. He started toward the mist.

  But Grandfather held up a hand. He smiled broadly when his wife emerged from the mist. She stepped forward and dropped to a crouch at his feet.

  “Are you unwell?” she whispered. But a smile hid behind her fear, Sophia could see.

  “Let me enjoy the moment,” he said. “Did you bring them?”

  She laughed and nodded. “They brought me, actually.”

  The edge of a slipper protruded from the mist. Then it pulled back inside. “Who was that?” Sophia asked her grandmother.

  “Just wait,” she said. Her cheeks were rosy with anticipation.

  The slipper appeared again, followed by a skirt-clad leg. Then Sophia’s mother stepped through the portal. She brushed the mist away like puffs of smoke and stopped as she entered the land of the fae. She looked around, crossed her arms beneath her breasts, and just breathed. She looked from hill to dale, from the church to the cemetery, from the Assembly Hall to the rows of houses she could see in the middle of town.

  “Welcome home,” Grandfather said. He couldn’t rise. He was simply too overcome by emotion.

  Sophia’s mother stopped and stared at him. “Papa?” she asked.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

  “Of course, I recognize
you,” she said, as her eyes welled with tears. But then she looked back toward the mist. “What shall I do about the others?”

  “What others?” Sophia asked as she stepped forward. Her heart leapt. “Do you mean Ronald?”

  Ronald stepped up to stand beside her mother, his hand holding on to a slim arm. Lady Anne stepped through the portal and into the land of the fae. She looked around at her surroundings, taking them in quickly. The sun shone off her pretty blond hair, and she smiled broadly when she saw Sophia and ran toward her. Sophia swept the girl into her arms and spun in a circle with her.

  Lady Anne pulled back and looked at her. She bent her head and whispered to Sophia, “My papa is in the mist. And your papa is in the mist.” She covered a giggle. “And they don’t have any clothes.”

  “No clothes,” Sophia repeated.

  “They traded their clothing for passage,” Ronald explained.

  “How gallant of them,” the oldest of the Trusted Few said.

  The mist began to thin. “We had better find something for them to wear before the mist dissipates completely.” Sophia snapped her fingers at a serving maid, who ran toward the house.

  Sophia started toward the mist. “Ashley?” she called. She was dying to see him, to put her arms around him.

  “Sophie?” he returned, but it sounded like he was fathoms away.

  “Walk toward my voice,” she urged.

  “I’ve been walking toward your voice since the day I met you,” he said with a laugh. “But in this instance, it’s better if I wait for some clothes.”

  “If you don’t wait, I’ll have to call him out,” her father called back. “Can’t have my little girl seeing him naked.”

  Ronald whistled a tune softly as he kicked a stone with the toe of his boot while looking askance at everyone.

  “Shut it, Ronald,” both men called from the fog.

  “Wrap yourself in the fog,” Sophia called.

  “What?” they both called back at the same time.