“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Probably not,” I whispered.
“It was unprofessional.”
“Highly.”
“It won’t happen again.”
I tilted my head to search his dark gaze, and what I saw there made my breath catch. His eyes told a truth his mouth didn’t.
“Liar.”
“Tessa—”
Another thought stole my attention. “It’s green.”
His features clouded with confusion when I moved out of his reach heading for the bookcase. I paused for a moment, regaining my composure before selecting a heavy, dust-covered volume, which I carried back to the workbench.
“The rosenphyn worked. The paste on the wine stem turned green.”
Derrick stood behind me, so close I struggled to keep from leaning against him. The need was tantalizing, but I feigned interest in turning the pages of the book. His arm brushed my side as he leaned closer, breath caressing my neck and making my nerve endings tingle.
Oops, I went too far. Back a page.
Finally, I found the correct section. If it had been any further, I would have dumped the book at my feet and tried testing his vow to not kiss me again. Who needed professionalism?
Derrick read the title next to my finger. “The poison is belladonna root.”
“That makes sense. It says in cases of poisoning, symptoms include blurred vision, loss of balance, and confusion. In larger doses, it can cause delirium, slurred speech, and even result in death. The steward said Ella was disoriented. The killer could have poisoned her to weaken her defenses.”
“There were hundreds of people at the ball. The killer would have needed to overpower her without drawing attention.”
“So, he poisoned her wine and either lured her out to the courtyard or waited until she stumbled out there on her own.”
“I agree. What else does it say?”
I skipped to the next paragraph. “Belladonna root is often used in wine to mask its bitter taste and unpleasant odor. That’s probably why Bradford could smell it. Ella might not have noticed, but someone experienced with wines would have recognized the difference. If she hadn’t spilled her wine, we might have never known it was poisoned.”
“It’s possible, but without the spell, it wouldn’t have mattered. Nice work, Tessa.”
A flare of pleasure bloomed in my chest at his praise. “Thank you, Detective. There’s a little bit more. It says in the right doses, belladonna root can be used as an aphrodisiac, increasing desire and stimulating…” I trailed off, my cheeks flaming. When I turned my head, our eyes met, and again, our lips were inches apart. My earlier accusation hung between us: Liar.
Derrick slipped the book from my fingers and placed it on the table without breaking my gaze. “I think that’s enough reading for tonight.”
“I think you’re right.”
He cleared his throat. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the apothecary and make a list of anyone who grows or sells belladonna plants.”
“Sounds like a plan. Goodnight, Detective.”
He retrieved his coat and paused at the door. “Goodnight, Tessa.”
The soft murmur stayed with me long after he’d slipped through the entrance and into the dark.
Chapter 13
Sleep was impossible.
The clock on the mantel read 11:50 p.m. as I tossed my legs over the edge of the bed. How was I supposed to sleep when every time I closed my eyes, I imagined him kissing me against a display of spells? At this rate, I’d be out of sleeping powder by the end of the week, or overdose and wind up in a thirty-year coma. At least then, I wouldn’t have to worry about Argus or solving a murder. Who knew sleep could fix such a wide array of problems?
I groaned and fell back against the mattress. Focus on the case. Count suspects or something. According to Derrick’s “everyone’s a suspect” rule, there were more suspects than sheep. I’d be asleep in no time.
Or not.
Lighting a candle, I sat and watched the clock march its way toward midnight. When the bell chimed, a chill froze the breath in front of my face. In the corner of the room, a glow began to take shape and grow stronger.
“Welcome back.”
Ella floated toward me, the hemline of her ball gown skimming the floorboards. She reached the foot of my bed and twisted the folds of her skirt in her fingers.
“Sorry to wake you. My hauntings aren’t exactly at a decent hour.”
“It’s okay, I can’t sleep. It’s actually nice to have the company. This place can get kind of quiet. You’d think by now, I’d be used to living alone, but I miss having others around.”
“I know what you mean. I used to feel lonely when my father was away on business. When he told me he was getting married, and I’d be getting a new stepsister, I was so excited. Many of my memories are gone, but I know that even after they arrived, I still felt alone.”
She drifted closer to the nightstand and fluttered her fingers through the candle flame. The light didn’t waver, but she held her hand in it, staring at the orange blaze.
“Does anyone miss me?”
The question caught me off-guard and made me think about our legacies. My mother had left behind numerous people she’d helped over the years, but besides Vivian, would anyone miss me? I wasn’t so sure. A few customers were likely planning to dance on my grave for ruining their lives with one of my spells.
“Of course people miss you. I know it’s difficult to believe, but your stepmother seemed genuinely upset.” It was strange commiserating with a ghost. “I think family can be a blessing and a curse. Even loving relationships can have cracks. Those cracks stay with us and make it difficult to relate to other people.”
She resumed playing with the candle. “Something tells me you’re speaking from experience.”
“Guilty. My mother loved me, but she couldn’t hide her disappointment in my abilities. The harder I tried, the bigger I failed. Now that she’s gone, I can’t bear to see that look on other people’s faces.”
“Is that why you don’t want the detective to get too close?”
“He’ll only be disappointed.”
“I don’t know.” She smiled softly. “Here you are, trying to solve a murder case to help a ghost. We’d never even met before I came to your shop. I’m a perfect stranger. Disappointments don’t help strangers.”
“My motives aren’t squeaky-clean. The reward does have something to do with it.”
Ella shrugged. “No one expects you to work for free.”
“I’m a regular saint then.” I sighed. Taking a deep dive into my stunted emotional growth wasn’t going to catch a killer or pay the bills, it would only lead to breaking out the elderberry wine and drowning my sorrows. The last thing I needed was to get drunk. “Actually, there is something I need to ask you about.”
“What’s that?”
“We learned something about your case. It appears you might have been poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” Ella’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” Her fingers brushed her temple as if it could help her remember.
“Yes, I’m positive. We found traces of belladonna in your wineglass. It can make you confused and delusional. It would have weakened your defenses. Have you ever heard of that plant before?”
“No, never.” She floated closer, her fingers curling into fists. “I must have been helpless.”
Her struggle with the killer flashed in my mind, and I went numb. No wonder death helped you forget. Seeing it through her eyes had been more than enough. Actually experiencing that kind of overwhelming fear? I shuddered.
“You fought back as best you could. Tomorrow, Derrick and I are going to search for the source of the poison. We’re going to find the person who did this to you.”
“I know you will. I trust you.” Ella drifted toward the door. “Try to sleep. You don’t need me haunting you all night. If you don’t mind, I’ll hang around your shop for a while. Don�
�t worry, I can’t touch anything.”
I laughed. “Remind me to lay out some spells for you next time. It will give you something to read.”
“Do you have any love spells? Those are my favorite.”
My eyes squeezed shut. I had almost put the kiss out of my mind.
“Yeah, I have a few. They’re my best sellers.”
***
Dawn broke through the curtains. It was too early to get up given my night had involved discovering poisons, alluring detectives, and conversations with ghosts, but I rubbed my bleary eyes and unwound my legs from the blankets, reaching for the thick robe that hung next to my bed. Cocooned inside the heavy fabric, I considered going back to sleep—but my eyes popped wide open when a horse neighed in the yard.
Impossible.
I scooted off the bed and peered through the window, blinking at the sight of the royal agency’s carriage parked on the gravel road. Apparently, when Derrick had said morning, he meant first thing. Like, before breakfast, and before normal people got out of bed.
At a knock on the door, I whimpered in protest.
“Tessa?”
Darting in front of the mirror, I massaged the bags under my eyes and examined the pillow creases imprinted on my pale cheeks. Running a brush through my hair only made static fuzz the ends.
“Tessa, open up.”
“I’m coming. Give me a second.” As the door shook from another round of knocking, I pinched color into my cheeks and tightened my robe. It would have to do—there wasn’t time for a beautification spell. Not that I trusted myself with one. They tended to have the opposite effect.
I hurried down the steps and opened the door, my gaze narrowing on the ill-timed intruder. “You’re early. Witches need their beauty sleep.”
Derrick’s gaze traveled from my unruly hair all the way down to my bare feet in a slow but thorough perusal. His mouth hitched.
“We don’t have that much time.”
My lip curled in a grumpy snarl. “Did you expect a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed witch, ready to conquer the day and hunt killers? You don’t pay me enough.”
“I’m not paying you at all.”
“That’s a conversation for later.” I waved him into the shop, then headed for the stairs. “Wait down here. Make tea or something.”
“Tea?” He gaped as if no one had ever asked him to perform such a menial task.
“Yes, tea. Leaves are in the cupboard by the window. Water’s at the pump, and I know you can start a fire. I’m going to change.”
He began to protest, but I shot him a grim look that he buckled beneath. Or maybe it had more to do with my wild hair than any sense of authority.
At the top of the stairs, my stomach rumbled, and I shouted, “Make toast too. There’s bread in the pantry.”
He grumbled something unintelligible, and I relished the image of the gruff detective making me breakfast. Early morning visitors weren’t so bad after all. Especially the freshly shaved kind, who wore perfectly tailored clothes that accentuated their broad chest and arms, all before daybreak, no spells needed.
I lingered in front of my wardrobe until the kettle whistle blew, then pulled a hunter-green tunic dress over my shoulders. A leather strap cinched my waist. My hair took more time, refusing to stay in a simple braid to keep the thick strands out of my face. I frowned in the full-length mirror. I felt plain. It was a foolish thought that had me questioning its origin. A witch didn’t impress with her clothes, she impressed with her spells. Too bad I was zero for two.
Needing a little something extra, I rifled through my mother’s jewelry box. She had collected odd but compelling pieces. Her favorite pendant rested at the bottom, strung on a metal chain. It was the size of a large coin and shaped into an oval with an inlaid cat’s eye stone. I hooked the chain around my neck, pleased with how the pendant complimented the dress. Some of my plainness slipped away.
Derrick pinned me with a pensive stare from his place near my workbench as I descended the creaky stairs. There wasn’t a smirk on his face as his gaze traveled over my body, as if to confirm there was nothing plain about me.
“I couldn’t find any jam.” He ran a hand through his hair in a sheepish confession. His collar was unbuttoned, his hair still wet at the ends. He looked nothing like the arrogant detective who had visited my shop the morning of Ella’s murder.
My stomach clenched under the weight of his gaze. I wondered if he saw the same witch?
“Jam’s in the pantry. It’s right next to the bread.”
“Right.” He winced.
“I hope you’re better at finding killers than locating breakfast items.”
He shrugged and took a sip from his mug. “I have a cook. She makes my meals.”
“Must be nice. It seems you’ve done all right for yourself. The tea’s hot, and the bread is sliced evenly. I’ll let it slide…this time.” Reaching for the plate, I ripped off a hunk of bread.
Derrick watched me chew. “Now I know where you keep the jam, I’ll get it right next time.”
Next time.
His words caused the bread to catch in the back of my throat. I coughed to loosen it, feeling heat climb my neck. Would there be a next time? And why did the thought make me want to get up even earlier and greet him with something other than a surly attitude and tangled hair? I downed my tea, letting the hot liquid burn the roof of my mouth.
“Let’s get a move on, Detective.” I collected his mug before he could finish, swiping it out of his hand. He didn’t argue but gave me a strange look, which I ignored.
I ignored him in the carriage too.
We parked in front of the apothecary. A light frost painted curlicues on the paned windows, and I shivered beneath the thick fabric of my cloak. Snow flurries tangled in my hair and stuck to my eyelashes, each flake melting on contact. The air tasted of the first bite of winter. I rubbed my numb fingers together and blew into the palms of my hands.
Derrick stood beside me, his gaze on the hanging sign. It swayed in the wind, whining on a rusty hinge. A bustling crowd surged around us, their heads low against the bracing chill.
“Ever been to the apothecary?” I asked, shuffling closer to Derrick to avoid being trampled by a merchant hauling a large sack over his shoulder.
Noticing my near miss, Derrick guided me in front of him. The crowd funneled on either side of us, keeping me out trampling range.
“No, I prefer being treated by a medical professional.”
“You mean, Old Sawbones McAllister? I guess you don’t enjoy living.” I shuddered. The so-called “Doctor” considered leeches to be a medical advancement.
Derrick nudged me toward the entrance. “I enjoy living just fine.”
The iron handle felt icy against my palm. Caught in the warm confines between Derrick and the door, I paused, reluctant to go inside.
“You know, there’s a lot to be said about natural remedies. I bet you didn’t know that ginger root can relieve cold symptoms, and peppermint leaves help with indigestion. In fact…” I trailed off when I noticed Derrick’s eyes glazing over and elbowed him under the ribcage. “You’re not listening.”
Catching my hand, he trapped it between his own and frowned as he rubbed the warmth back into my fingers. “I’m paying attention.” Tilting his head, he cast a wary look into the street.
I pretended to straighten his coat and glanced over his shoulder. A burly man with a turned-up collar lurked in the shadows of a shop canopy. Another man, lanky and grizzled, hovered near a wall of flyers.
“Do you know those men?” he asked.
Apprehension knotted my stomach. I did know them. More importantly, they knew me. Argus’s goons were getting sloppy—unless they wanted me to see them, which was certainly possible. I ignored their less-than-subtle intimidation. He had given me until the end of the month to pay my debt, so they’d leave me alone until then. The bigger problem was keeping Derrick from making the connection between me and the unsavory thugs.
> “No. I’ve never seen them before.” The lie burned in my throat. I knew it made things more complicated, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. Our partnership was rocky at best, and any hint I might have an ulterior motive would get me thrown off the case. After my talk with Ella, I couldn’t jeopardize her trust. It was better this way. I could handle Argus on my own.
Derrick’s lips thinned. He stared me down, searching for the lie, but I was seamless.
Plastering a smile on my face, I pushed open the door. Waves of heat instantly thawed my bones, and I breathed in the sulfurous smell mixed with invasive pungent herbs. A weaker constitution would have run screaming. Derrick nearly did. He covered his nose with his coat sleeve.
“Come here.” I laughed and pulled him toward a bowl of a waxy substance. “Hold still.” I dabbed some onto a fingertip and lifted it near his nose. “It’s lemon balm, to mask the smell. It’s also very calming.”
He relaxed under the pleasant scent, breathing normally again. “And you wonder why I avoid places like this.”
“Can I help you?” A woman emerged from the back room and rounded the counter. Her gray apron covered a long purple gown with wide sleeves.
“Yes, you can. I’m Detective Chambers from the royal agency, and this is my assistant, Miss Daniels. We’re looking for information regarding a specific herb and the names of anyone who supplies it.”
The woman hesitated, eyeing us cautiously. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.
Derrick cleared his throat. “We’ll need a list of—”
“You have a beautiful shop,” I interrupted, admiring a display of glass jars. “I hear you have the largest selection of aromatic oils in the kingdom. I dabble myself, but I haven’t mastered the extraction process. Do you prefer the steam method?”
The woman gave me an encouraging smile. “I do prefer the steam method, it enhances the oils. I didn’t realize you practiced perfumery.”
I nodded and leaned in conspiratorially, gesturing toward Derrick with my chin. “A little, but this one doesn’t appreciate my hobby. He calls it frivolous.”
She huffed. “Men never appreciate the skill.” The woman extended her hand. “Please, call me Ada.”
Spellbound After Midnight (Ever Dark, Ever Deadly Book 1) Page 11
