“He does and expects us back within the week,” Thea responded. “How did you know I was married?”
“I have my ways. Come and sit.”
Thea and Elvie removed their Spencer jackets and gloves. The smoky fire overheated the tiny room. Grandmamma pushed aside a curtain to let in faint sunlight through a dirty window. Then she went to the fireplace and busied herself stirring a pot hanging over the flames. Appetizing odors filled the air.
“You must be hungry unless you stopped on the way.”
“We were anxious to get here. We didn’t stop.” Thea approached her grandmother. “Whatever you are cooking smells wonderful. Can I help?”
“No. Sit at the table.”
Thea held in her smile. Grandmamma had not changed. A gruff old lady who never hesitated to say what she thought. If she could help them she would tell the truth, whether it was good or bad.
Elvie wandered to the far side of the room to look at a basket holding three newborn kittens. Thea watched her grandmother slice bread and place it and butter in front of her. Next she ladled out two bowls of thick vegetable soup and placed them on either side of the worn wooden table.
“Come eat,” she said to Elvie. She studied Elvie playing with the kittens. “You want me to teach her about the gift?”
“And me more about mine,” Thea added. “Also…”
A bony hand reached out and grasped Thea’s wrist. “We will talk about the other later, the two of us. I know you brought something for me to see, but first I must tell you the beginning.”
“Come, child, and eat!” Grandmamma snapped at Elvie. Elvie wiped her hands on the towel handed her and came to join them.
Only the crackle of the fire and mewing from the kittens filled the silence. The soup thick with potatoes, carrots, and cabbage also had chunks of beef floating in the broth. The warm bread melted the butter, and Thea reached for a second piece.
In this place, surrounded by what was left of her family, the food tasted sweeter, better than any she’d had in a long time. Thea glanced up and found her grandmother watching her.
“The time since your mother’s death has been a trial,” Grandmamma said. “You will still be tested. It is for you to decide your future.”
“I already did,” Thea answered. “When I chose my husband.”
“It is not decided yet.” The old voice broke with emotion. “Much depends on you.”
Elvie looked from one to the other. “What about me, Grandmamma?”
The first sign of a smile crossed the old woman’s face. “It is early yet for you, little one. Do not be impatient.” The words came out softer.
She cleared the table. Thea and Elvie waited not sure what to do. Finally, their grandmother faced them. “Elvie you will sleep in the room with me. Thea will have to curl up here by the fire. I’ll make a pallet for you.
“Tonight, before we retire, I will begin to tell you of your family and the ancient history. You two are the last of our branch.”
In the reflection from the candlelight, Thea saw the sadness in her grandmother’s eyes. Her lined face was framed by a circle of white hair.
“What is wrong, Grandmamma?” Thea reached out and rubbed the bony hand with swollen knuckles.
“Ah, I can feel the healer in your hands. My old bones ache with cold and age.”
“I will rub your muscles and hands tonight to help you sleep.”
She patted Thea’s hand. “You are a good girl. Remember always to use your gifts in the right way or it will come back to you in evil.”
“I know,” Thea said.
“For now, you two can help me in my garden. Tonight, Althea, you and I will talk. And after I have finished, you can ask your questions.”
* * * *
After a dinner of more soup, they watched Grandmamma go to a large chest set against the stone wall. When she raised the lid, the smell of spices floated through the air. Grandmamma lifted out layers of linens and old dresses before finding what she sought. Clasping the leather-bound book to her chest, she shuffled to her rocking chair.
“Bring me a candle, child.” She motioned to Elvie. “Come, Thea, and sit at my feet. Elvie go to my room and rest. Tomorrow, I will start to teach you of your gift. Tonight is for Thea.”
Elvie nodded, but hesitated. Thea knew she didn’t want to leave.
“Go,” Grandmamma ordered, and Elvie, though reluctant, went out of the room. “Close the door,” Grandmamma called to her.
They both smiled at the slam. “She is young,” Grandmamma acknowledged.
Thea sat on fresh rushes, her face turned up. Outside the sky darkened with early dusk. In the distance, she heard a roll of thunder. A storm brewed to the west.
“It all began on a night like this,” Grandmamma whispered. “Your great-great grandmother stood and smelled the rain in the air and the cool wind whipped her hair. Excitement curled in her body. Her lover would be home.”
Cold fingertips seemed to slide across Thea’s shoulders and down her spine. She shivered. Grandmamma spoke with her eyes closed, her hands resting on the book. As the words came out, the wind increased and branches brushed across the roof, creating a sound not unlike bones rattling. Inside the warm room, even the air seemed to hold its breath.
Grandmamma’s eyes opened wide and focused on Thea. “In looks, you are the replica of her. The same black hair and green eyes, the pale skin, as though she has returned to finish the terrible deed she started that night.”
“Is that why you don’t like me, Grandmamma?” Thea asked.
Her grandmother leaned toward her and touched her hair. “I like you, my love. But I have been afraid since the day I first saw you. Would you have her disposition and bring down more harm on our descendents or were you here to right the terrible wrong done by her that day?”
“I am myself, no one else. I can not understand what you are saying.”
“Be patient. It is a long story and the beginning is in this.” Her hand patted the cover. The thin pages crackled with age as she opened the book. A rush of wind came down the chimney and the flames sent sparks shooting toward them. Grandmamma hugged the old tome to her breast.
“It is time she knew,” Grandmamma shouted to the corners of the room. Thea watched as her grandmother got up, shuffled to the fireplace and took down a jar of dried herbs from the shelf above. Chanting unknown words, Grandmamma walked around the room, scattering the contents along the edges and corners before returning to her chair.
“There. That will keep the evil one away. After all these years, she still does not want the spell broken, and up to now, none of us have attempted it.”
“Who? What spell? You confuse me, Grandmamma.”
“Quiet. Take my hands and close your eyes. Let your mind’s eye see the past.” The rhythm and music of her words spilled over Thea. When she clasped her grandmamma’s hands, Thea's body swirled through a long dark passage.
The woman paced around her bed chamber. Her long, white bedrail billowed around her. Wavy hair, black as midnight, curled around her shoulders and across her breast. She stopped in front of her mirror. Her hands cupped her full breasts, moved along the curves of her body and then up to push her thick hair back from her face. “He threw this away,” she spat. “To marry that thin milksop of a woman. For what?” Her voice echoed off the stone walls. “For money and position.”
Anger rushed through her heated body. She moved to the long windows and opened the heavy drapes. The night was dark and starless. A wind whipped the tree branches to and fro. Lightning struck a nearby tree, splitting it in half and lighting up the sky.
She spread her arms and legs wide and embraced the elements. “I will make you and yours pay for what you have done to me. The village will call me whore, but your ancestors will beg me for forgiveness.” She strode to her chest and withdrew the book. Back at the window, she raised her arms, the book in her hand and began to chant. The storm increased as her anger fueled her body with energy. She knew if an
yone looked up they would see her pale body standing arms flung out and legs wide open, and be able to see through the thin gown to the lush curves beneath. She hoped he was still out there and saw and trembled at her rage.
He’d left but minutes ago. He'd come here thinking he could explain himself and she would continue to meet with him and be his whore, while another woman slept in his bed and had his name. “Damn him.” The words rang from her mouth, and hot virulent hate burned to the core of her. He had laughed.
She thought of his words. “You did not really believe, I, a marquis, would marry a commoner from the village?” His words had been hard, and a cynical smile had spread on his face. She'd smashed her hand across that insolent smirk and laughed at his shock. Turning, he'd marched out of the room.
Now, she stood in her glory, and it would never be finished. If anyone tried to end it, they would bring down her wrath.
A crash of lightning and thunder sizzled in the room, and Thea’s hands parted from her grandmother. For one brief second, her eyes went to the window. She'd swear she saw the wild hair and eyes gleaming with hate looking straight at her. Turning her gaze away, she looked back at her grandmother.
“Grandmamma, are you all right?” Thea knelt beside her. The old body curved in the chair, hardly breathed. Slow and carefully, Grandmamma raised her head and blinked her eyes.
“You saw?”
“Yes,” Thea said. “What does it all mean?”
“I must rest. She will fight my telling you, and I am old with not much life left in me. Tomorrow night we will continue. In the meantime, take this book and place it back in the chest.”
The book felt cold when Thea took it in her hands. “Rest, Grandmamma. You must not let this make you ill.”
“I am an old lady, and my time is near, but I must prepare you for the coming battle.” She reached up and placed her hands on Thea’s shoulders. “This is a huge responsibility I place on you, to right the wrong done by your ancestor. One that you may accept or decline. You must know the dangers first.” She clasped Thea’s face. “I love you, my child, and will agree with whatever you decide. It was not you who did the evil, but only you have a chance to change our history and your husband’s.
“Good night Granddaughter. I am tired and you have much to think about." She patted Thea's arm. "I know you have brought an object with you to ask me about. Be patient, we will get to it." She shuffled toward the bedroom. "We will continue this tomorrow,” she said, then closed the door behind her.
Thea went to her pallet and lay down. Silence settled outside and inside the cottage. The storm finished for the night. Thea stared at the empty window, at the dark sky. She forced her eyes to stay open for fear if she closed them she'd return to the vision, and become intertwined again with the woman and her body racked with such strong emotions. Did she want to hear what the woman brought down on the man’s family? She feared she already knew. Thea remembered the man and woman she'd seen in her vision. He resembled Wulf and she, the woman.
Chapter Thirteen
Wulf had watched until the carriage went out of sight. The feeling of relief he expected did not come. Inside the house seemed cold and empty, and the silence mocked him. You wanted to be alone, so here you are. He paced from room to room.
Sitting at the table for his noon meal he decided to go to town and find out how Hawley was doing. A few days spent in London would make him eager to return home and Thea would be back soon afterwards. Had he already become so dependent on her that he could not enjoy his solitude? He did not like the thought.
“Bailey, tell the stable boy to prepare the coach. We'll leave this afternoon for town. Without the ladies, we will travel light.”
“Very good, my lord.” Bailey hurried out the door.
Wulf went to his library and took down several books. Everything he’d read indicated most amulets opened and held messages inside. There were pictures of several, but none like the one Thea found in the attic.
He pulled out old letters and reread them. None mentioned an amulet as a wedding gift. His ancestors recorded so little of their history.
The full moon would return soon and when that occurred he couldn't stop the change. He had only a few days to find out information from Hawley and return home. Tired of reading the same things again, Wulf went to his private retreat to work on his current project. The touch of the wood and the first glimpse of the small creature emerging from the solid block always focused him and prepared him for whatever was to come.
Wulf left late in the day. Neither Bailey nor his valet were pleased about his sudden decision, even though they rode in the coach and Wulf rode Batair. Wulf had a purpose. He did not trust Thea’s uncle and it would please him to find his wife and sister had an inheritance due them from their parents. The uncle would be repaid for his ill treatment of Thea.
While in town he'd retrieve some of the family jewels and bring them home to her. He would tolerate a party to introduce the new Marchioness of Radford to the neighboring families. He envisioned Thea in a white satin gown with the Radford rubies around her neck, in her earlobes, and on her fingers. Fire and ice. The wolf stirred, and Wulf moved restlessly in his saddle.
Hunger for Thea clawed at him. He wanted to taste her woman’s sweetness, let his hands roam along the curves of her white body and fill his senses with the sweet fragrance in her jet black hair. He’d hoped time without her would weaken his desire, but it seemed to increase with every moment.
Thoughts of his first wife, Clarisse, cooled his heat. In perspective, he admitted relief was his first emotion when she ran away, followed quickly by anger. He followed her because of his fury that she and his friend would betray him in such a way. If Clarisse had lived and sailed to Europe before Wulf tracked them down, he’d have had time to calm down. Then, he'd probably have agreed to a quiet divorce.
The thought of Thea leaving raised his hackles. He would follow her to the bitter end and never let her go. Where were these thoughts coming from? He’d never been a violent man, and yet, he sensed his control slipping. He must break the curse or accept himself and claim the woman he burned for, damning the consequences.
He urged Batair into a gallop. The countryside streaked by, blazing with the colors of late spring. His other side was winning and taking control. The seduction of the wolf tasted hot and tempting.
* * * *
Thea took her grandmother’s book on healing and went outside to sit in the sunshine. Warmth seeped into her cold body. She studied the faded pages concerning all aspects of her healing gift. New recipes for herbs and magic words to help heal specific areas of the body covered many pages. She noted a recipe for a cream to apply to scars.
“Grandmamma,” she called to the older woman working with Elvie in the herb garden. “Would you help me prepare some of these lotions and potions before I return home?”
“Yes, and you can take some seedlings to start your own herb garden. But be very careful. There is a fine line between what people see as healing and what they call a witch.”
“I know. Mama warned me of the dangers.”
“Good. My beautiful daughter, my heart aches with knowing she is gone. Soon I’ll be with her, but you and Elvie will have each other to lean on.”
Thea started to protest, but in the clear morning air it was obvious by the color of her skin, the frail thin bones, and the receding light in her eyes that she was right. Thea and Elvie might not see grandmamma after this visit. Thea must learn as much as possible during this time together. She blinked away her tears.
The day rushed by. Thea cooked their dinner while her grandmother gathered herb seedlings and instructed Elvie. Teaching her about her abilities to recognize a person's innate behavior and in certain situations sensing bad things before they occur.
Chicken browning over the open fire filled the cottage with pleasant odors. Another pot with water and potatoes cooked above the fire. Elvie sat to the side, listening to her grandmother’s instructions and stori
es.
After eating, grandmamma sent Elvie to the small bedroom and sprinkled herbs around the room before sitting in front of Thea. Outside the night was black and silent.
“Take my hands and close your eyes.”
Thea did as she was told. Her hearing and touch became more acute and every flicker of the fire and crackle in the wood frame of the cottage was amplified. Wind blew against her face, and she fell twisting and turning through the passage.
A knock sounded. The woman pulled the front of her dress lower to expose the full tops of her breast. Her hair brushed to a shine flowed around her. She opened the door with a smile.
He stood in his leather breeches and full sleeved white shirt with a brown vest. His golden brown hair and sherry eyes glowed at her.
“How beautiful you are tonight. I knew you would forgive me.” He reached out, taking her white shoulders in his hands and pulled her lush body against him as he stepped inside and kicked the door shut.
Her ruby red lips met his mouth. She waited until his hands became more urgent and their tongues did the dance of lust, then she wrenched herself away.
“You fool. Did you think I would forgive you?” Her voice rang out with venom. “Never. I will see you and yours in hell first.” Rushing across the room, she picked up a small sack and turning, flung the contents on him. The white powder clung to his hair, face and clothes.
“What are you doing, you crazy woman?” He brushed at the powder, but still he couldn’t remove the white stuff.
Her shrill laugh filled the room. “Your first born son and every first born son after will curse you for what you have brought on them. Oh, some will come to like the power and evil, but not all. And you will hate what becomes of your first born.”
“What have you done?” He shook her, as she continued to laugh. Flinging her aside, he rushed out the door.
“It will wash off,” she hollered, “but the curse will not.”
She went to the fire and mumbled ancient incantations. Throwing up her hands, the fire blazed full. “I will leave a secret. There is a way to save your family,” she whispered to the empty room, “but none will understand it.”
McNeely, Rachel - The Marquis' Mystical Witch (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 17
