A Certain Magic

by Betina Krahn

  What indeed. He'd been wondering that very thing for the last several days. What would the old things do without her? "I have a notion they'll survive." He took her face between his hands and delved deeply into her daisy-button-gold eyes. "They got along before you came, Mimi. They'll find a way to get along after you're gone." He brushed her lips with his and took a deep, steadying breath. "I love you, Mimi. And if they love you at all, they'll want you to have a life of your own."

  They did love her and want her to have a life of her own! They'd spoken to her of marriage… "Wh-what?" She grasped the sides of his coat to keep from staggering. "What did you say?"

  "I said, they have to let you have a life—"

  "No, the other part—" She yanked urgently on his coat. ' "Say that other part again!"

  His frown smoothed as he realized what she wanted. "I love you, sweet Mimi, and I want you to marry me."

  "Oh, Graham!" She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down to smother his face with kisses. "I love you, too!"

  He lifted her and swung her around and around, laughing. When they staggered to a halt, she just had to expend the energy bubbling up in her or burst. She seized his hand and pulled him into a run. They began to chase each other like joyful children, darting around trees and stumps and half-bare bushes, teasing each other with threats of kisses and tickles. He caught up with her in a clearing and swept her into his arms, his eyes hot, his laughter booming free and clear. When they settled back to earth together, toe to toe and button to button, their breathless kisses deepened and softened, becoming achingly sweet.

  It was some time before Graham lifted his head and re-focused his eyes enough to realize they were in a small clearing. He relaxed his hold on her and brushed wisps of her hair back from her rosy face. "Do you have the foggiest idea where we are?" he asked, taking a calming breath and clamping a stern hand on his escalating passions. "Not that I'd mind being lost with you…"

  In the midst of tidying her wind-teased hair, she paused and shaded her eyes to look around. "Oh, I know this meadow. We're not lost." She smiled up at him. "Aunt Flora used to bring me here sometimes to pick flowers, when I was younger."

  "Flowers?" He was staring past the toes of his boots to a trailing green plant that covered the ground everywhere in the clearing. He felt his muscles contracting, one by one. "What sort of flowers?"

  "These," she said, raking her foot over the weedy growth beneath her feet, "among others. They're starflowers… tiny white blossoms with five points like stars, only they're not blooming just now. There used to be a big stand of sweet William over there." She pointed toward the far end of the meadow. "And we always found fragrant Devon violets in profusion around the edges of the meadow." She looked up to find his expression darkening as he stared at the starflowers under his feet. "What is it, Graham?" When he lifted his eyes to her, they were dark and guarded.

  "You know what this place is, don't you?"

  "Well, I thought I just said. It's where Aunt Flora and I used to—"

  "It's the meadow where nothing but starflowers grow." They had found it, as he had both hoped and dreaded they would when he had asked her to come for a walk with him. He searched her, realizing that she didn't understand. "It's where the witches gather to dance on All Hallows' Eve. I heard about it in the village the other day. They come and dance among the starflowers."

  The implication of his words struck Mimi like a blow in the stomach. She sucked in a shocked breath. "And you think… my old aunts…"

  "It is suspiciously close to Asher House, Mimi. And after what I saw, I believe they're the ones everyone in the village talks about."

  She gathered fistfuls of her cloak in her hands $ staring at him. Hurt dulled the brilliant gold of her eyes. "You've lived with them… you've seen how generous and loving they are. And still you accuse them?" Already knowing the answer, she whirled and started for the house.

  He jolted after her and caught her by the arm. "Please, Mimi… I don't mean to hurt you. I know why you love them. I can almost love them myself, for all they've given you. But I can't deny my own senses. I have to know whether it's true or not." He gritted his teeth, wishing he could take back his words and his wretched suspicions, lock them away in his own heart and mind forever. "Don't you see, I have to know for my own sanity, for my peace of mind. I have to know because… I love you. And I don't want this between us any more. There's one way to settle it, once and for all time."

  He hesitated, then made himself say it. "Tomorrow night is All Hallows' Eve. Come here with me and watch. If they don't come, then we'll know it was all just the herbs and the odd hour and their crazy inventions. And I'll never doubt them again." The plea in his face and words was filled with love and regret, and with a tiny spark of hope. "Please, Mimi."

  She stared at him, wondering, hoping. Would it really be enough to satisfy him? If she came with him and her aunts didn't appear, would that really be the end of it? She prayed that it would, for she could never marry a man who believed such a terrible thing about her dear, dotty old aunts, her only family. There were tears in her eyes when she raised them to him.

  "I'll come with you, Graham."

  The following night, All Hallows' Eve, the moon rose before sunset and waited patiently for its chance to shine. When darkness fell, the old aunts tottered off to bed, leaving Mimi and Graham alone by the fire in the old drawing room. They were oddly silent with each other, exchanging wistful looks and trying not to show how the waiting depressed them. Graham refused to think about what would happen if he were right—he wanted so desperately to be wrong. When he slid his hand over hers and she squeezed it, some of the tension constricting his chest eased.

  The fire burned low and as they had agreed, they set the screens and made their way upstairs, as if to retire. After a while there was no sound except the occasional creak of the aged house settling. Mimi heard the pecking at her door, squared her shoulders, and snatched up her cloak. They tiptoed down a set of servants' stairs and paused in the deepest shadows of the hall to don their outer garments. When they slipped through the little-used side door, there was scarcely a whisper of noise.

  The light of the half moon seemed bright as midday to their dark-adjusted eyes. Mimi took his hand and led him through the chilled quiet toward the path to the woods… and the meadow beyond.

  They walked, close and silent, clutching each other's hands. The half-naked trees cast odd shadows around them, and the dry leaves rustled both above their heads and underfoot, heralding their presence and their passage in the night. A quarter of an hour later, they stood at the edge of the trees, gazing over a moonlit expanse of meadow. They looked at each other, and their hands tightened.

  "Over here," Graham whispered, propelling her toward a fallen log, just barely visible in the dense shadows beneath some heavy-limbed old trees. When she was seated, he squeezed down beside her and gathered her against him.

  "Graham?" she whispered.

  "Hmmm?" He rested his cheek on top of her head.

  "They won't come."

  In the moonlight and silence, they waited. The night seemed to stretch out endlessly around them—the owl hoots, the quiet shoosh of leaves overhead, the crisp night air, and the dark, endless sky above. Their eyes grew heavy, and they snuggled closer. After a while, she sagged against him, and his own eyelids began to droop. How much time passed, neither could know. But sometime in the deepest hour of night, he stirred and came wide awake, his blood humming, his senses clear and sharp.

  "Mimi," he whispered softly into her ear. Soon she was sitting up, looking at him with a similar keenness of perception, with the same sense of wondrous expectation. They looked up to find the moon sinking and the sky sparkling with points of light… dazzling, brilliant, blue-white sparks and fainter, glowing yellow flames. Suddenly a shooting star streaked overhead, burning a glowing arc across the sky as it fell to earth. And it seemed to them both that it had landed in their meadow. They looked at each other and smiled
. There was a certain magic about the moment, being there together, being at one with each other in the cradle of the night. Both felt as if that shooting star had written their love and their destiny across the sky for all creation to see.

  He touched her face and brushed her lips with his. When she opened her eyes, moonglow had collected in them, turning them into pools of wonder. Her heart soared on the moment, believing… then knowing. "They're not coming, Graham. It's just us. No one else."

  He gazed at her with eyes littered with starlight. "I know, sweet Mimi. Just us."

  They sat looking into each other's faces, bathed in silver splendor, wrapped in love's transcendent warmth. Their smiles grew to broad grins of delight, then became sparkling laughter that bubbled like fine champagne onto the still night air. He thrust to his feet and pulled her up with him, his face radiant.

  "They aren't coming… there is no dance!" He caught her up in a crushing, exuberant embrace that made her squeal with pleasure. Around and around they whirled, and when they stopped, the entire world was set spinning around them. "Oh, Mimi—it's so beautiful—the night, the moonlight— It's a shame to waste a minute of it!" His eyes shone; his face glowed with sensual excitement as he squeezed her hands. "Dance with me, Mimi… here, now."

  She stared at him with glistening eyes, dimly aware that he was removing his coat and her cloak and tossing them aside. Could this be the same man who had come to Asher House with anger and accusation in his heart and cold authority in his manner? No, this man had outgrown that shell of duty and denial; this was the dreamer inside that tightly dignified man of law and letters, a secret prince of starlight, a dancer in moonbeams.

  One of his hands slid to her waist; the other lifted her hand. And they began to move, with small steps at first, discovering, adjusting to each other. Their movements slowly melted together, and they waltzed around the meadow in graceful, ever-widening circles, sinuously beau-tiful swirls of skirts and boots and tautly held bodies and passions. The night invaded them with its own impulsive rhythm, guiding their steps over a blossoming carpet of snowy-white starflowers. Around them swirled warm caressing breezes, stirring melody across their heartstrings, creating resonance within their souls.

  They danced as the world turned, and the night slid gently through and around them. They danced for joy and for love… and for the magic of finding the one created just for them. And as they danced, he realized it wasn't some arcane sorcery that had claimed his senses and taken over his responses and made him into a different man… It was love. Love, and the very human enchantment of Mimi's awakening sensuality.

  They slowed and swayed to a stop in the middle of the meadow, seeing into each other's hearts, feeling the warming rise of passion.

  "Love me, Graham. Now. Here." Desire flickered in the opened core of her, flamelike, entrancing. She led his hands to her breasts and undulated with response when his lean fingers closed around them. He lifted her and carried her to the shadow of that old tree, spreading her cloak and his coat on a bed of leaves. And when he pressed her back into that softness, the very earth itself sighed contentedly through her lips.

  Enveloped in a cocoon of their own warmth, they shed clothes and inhibitions, neither thinking it odd to feel so warm and sheltered in the midst of a chilled forest. They touched and caressed, kissing endlessly and reveling in the feel of their bodies molding pleasurably together. She was by turns a silken nymph, and a love-warmed woman whose body cradled and welcomed his, whose heat became his exquisite torment and his sweet release. And he was by turns a teasing satyr, and a roused and passionate man, who sheltered her with his body and invaded her woman's heat as he had invaded her woman's heart.

  Under the stars, in a bed of nature, they were joined. All creation seemed to shiver as they found exultant release in that first loving. And the stars winked at each other, and the wind sighed softly.

  She lay in his arms, savoring each inch of his body against her… and within her. But after a while, the chill of the air curled through her senses, and she shivered.

  "You're cold," he murmured, pulling her cloak up and around her. "We'd better get you dressed. I wouldn't want to have to explain to your Aunt Caroline how you happened to take a dread chill." Her laughter was pure music.

  "In a minute. Just hold me for a minute longer."

  He kissed her nose, her closed eyes, and her lips. "I'll do better than that. I'll hold you for a lifetime… if you'll marry me."

  She stirred beneath him, wriggling sinuously, luxuriating in the rich new sensuality of loving. "Ummm… just name the day. And make it soon."

  And he laughed.

  They awakened in the first gray wisps of predawn light, to find themselves lying on their bed of leaves, wrapped snugly together in his coat and her cloak. Dew covered their clothes and dampened their hair, and the chill had nipped their noses and ears red. In the distance, they could hear a voice and a rustle through the woods; someone was approaching. It took a moment to register, but Graham untangled her arms from his waist and sat up… just as the voice and its owner arrived.

  "Mimi? Mister Hamilton? Where are you?" Caroline's strident tones floated out over the hushed morning air. Mimi sat up and looked at Graham in horror.

  "Aunt Caroline!" she gasped. "They must have found us gone!"

  The old lady, clad in an oversized coat and leaning heavily on a walking stick, emerged from the trees not far away. She stood panting from exertion, her gaze scouring the clearing in the dim light. When Graham scrambled to his feet, she saw him, and her whole body reacted with a start, then melted with obvious relief. "Phoebe—Flora—I found them!" she shouted hoarsely. "They're over here… in the meadow!"

  She worked her way through the dewy leaves and chilled starflowers, to where Graham was helping Mimi to her feet. Before her aged eyes, they had to untangle his coat and her cloak, and they fumbled and blushed and stammered.

  "Mimi—we've been looking everywhere for you! Flora stopped by your room to see if you were awake yet and wanted to help her, but she found you missing—your bed not even mussed! She roused us, and we began to look and discovered Mister Hamilton missing as well…"

  "Thank heaven you found them!" Phoebe arrived just then, red-faced and huffing and puffing, and Flora wasn't far behind. The two teetered to a halt near their sister, and their eyes widened in amazement on the truant pair. Mimi's hair was a charming tangle, her cheeks were stained with embarrassment, and through her gaping cloak, they could see that her dress was badly mis-buttoned. Graham's hair. was ruffled, his clothes were littered with leaves and dried grass, and his impeccable starched collar dangled from the side pocket of his coat. The old ladies murmured and peered around the pair to the thick pallet of leaves, which still bore the telling imprint of their bodies.

  "Ohhh, Mimi!" Aunt Flora exclaimed softly, clasping her hand to her throat.

  "You were out here… with Mister Hamilton… all night?" Aunt Phoebe's chins drew back in dismay. The old sisters shuffled closer together, looking bereft and reaching for each other's hands.

  "Please… it's not what you think!" Mimi cringed to see them so. The shock and disappointment in their faces were difficult to bear. Yes, it was what they thought… but it was so much more! "If you'll just listen, let me explain…" They looked at one another, deciding, then nodded, agreeing to hear her out. She drew a relieved breath and hurried to them. "Graham… Mister Hamilton heard some talk in the village—stuff and nonsense, really—about a witches' dance in the meadow on Halloween."

  "Witches?" The old ladies' eyes widened, and they looked at one another in consternation.

  "And Graham wanted to see it for himself… to see…" As her explanation faltered, he came to her side and put his arm protectively around her shoulders.

  "I wanted to know…" He hesitated for a moment, deciding what to say. "… who the witches were."

  "Merciful goodness!" Phoebe exclaimed, leaning closer with avid curiosity. "Who are they?"

  "Well," Graha
m said, shifting his feet and glancing down at Mimi's expectant face, "we didn't see any. None at all. We were here all night and nobody danced in the moonlight."

  Mimi looked up at his handsome profile with glistening eyes and corrected softly, "Except us." At that moment, she didn't know if her heart could hold one more drop of love without bursting. He hadn't told them of his suspicions. He didn't want to hurt their feelings! It was glorious proof that his doubts had truly been laid to rest.

  "Well, that's the way it is with superstitions." Phoebe sighed. "You get all excited, and nothing comes of it."

  "Witches." Caroline turned it over in her mind. "Mister Hamilton, I'm surprised to find you so superstitious. Science teaches us better these days. Years ago, they were always denouncing some old woman or other… dragging her out and stuffing her in a pond somewhere to see if she'd float." Her voice and her pointer finger rose as she climbed on a favorite soapbox. "Any time a woman did something a man couldn't understand, he declared her a witch. And men being what they were, there was always plenty they didn't understand about women…"

  "Caroline—not now!" Flora dragged Caroline's hand down and glared at her. Then she turned that dark look on Graham. "There is still the little matter of our Mimi alone with a man for a whole night in the woods." A somber air settled over the three at that reminder. "Think of the disgrace if anyone should—"

  "It's no disgrace, Miss Flora," Graham insisted, albeit with a reddened face. "I love your Mimi with all my heart. And, with your blessing, she has agreed to become my wife. We want to be married as quickly as it can be arranged."

  The old ladies started and looked to Mimi's glowing face for confirmation. "Mimi, dear," Aunt Caroline choked out past the catch in her throat, "is this true?"

  She nodded, and lowered her lashes. "It's true, Aunt Caroline. I love Graham and want to marry him and go to London with him. Please don't be angry."

  "Mimi and Mister Hamilton?" Phoebe clamped a pudgy hand over her heart as if steadying it against the shock. "But, Mimi, dear, we didn't think you even liked Mister Hamilton. Why…this is splendid!" She began shaking Caroline and Flora by the arms. "Our Mimi's in love!"