Ondine’s jaw fell open in shock. “You went into Old Col’s dreams? How did you do that without her knowing?”
For a moment Melody found something interesting to look at on the bedspread. “I’m getting pretty good at it,” she admitted.
“Not good enough,” a strong voice said from the doorway.
They both looked up to see Old Col standing there.
“You really must be more careful with your dream-catching, young lady,” Old Col said, walking in. “Honestly, it was all I could do not to burst into a fit of giggles. I haven’t seen anyone that cack-handed since . . . well, Howser never was any good at it, and now she’s passing on her mistakes to you. Come on, make room on that bed for an old lady, I need to rest my bones.”
Too shocked to question their instructions, the girls moved apart and made room for Old Col between them. The woman took her sweet time lowering her frame to the bed.
“If you knew Mel was in your dream, why didn’t you hide the diary?” Ondine asked.
“Because this way was much more fun,” her great-aunt said, and added a wicked laugh. “For a girl who’s grounded, you sure got a lot of company. Shambles, you can get out from under the bed now.”
Confused and stunned, Ondine picked her feet up and folded them under herself, then peered over the edge of the bed to see Shambles slink out from underneath. “When did you get in there?”
“Sorry, Ondi. I was going to say something . . . but . . . well . . . it would have been rude to interrupt,” he said. For a ferret, he looked a bit sheepish.
“Right, Mel, pay attention,” Old Col said. “This is my diary, and I let you find it, because I am old and I get my fun when I can. Naturally, you can’t read it because I wrote it in code. Shambles, Ondi, this concerns you both because I’ve got the spell I used on Hamish in here somewhere. Right, let’s find the page I’m after . . .” She licked a wrinkled finger and stabbed at the page corners to turn them over. “Getting close now, hmm, no, can’t read that out, that’s private, OK, next page, no, that’s private as well.”
This went on for some time, and Ondine couldn’t help fidgeting and wondering whether anyone else would walk past and notice all the people in her room. She darted a quick look at Melody and saw that she, too, was fidgeting.
“Now it gets interesting, I’ve just met a handsome young laird called Hamish McPhee, and he’s utterly charming.” Old Col lifted her eyes from the diary and glanced at the ferret. “That would be you then.”
A weird feeling overcame Ondine. She wanted to know everything that had happened between Hamish and Old Col at that fateful debutante ball, but at the same time she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. Or at least, she knew she wanted to know, but it felt awkward knowing that Old Col would know that she knew. And Melody too.
“Found it. I thought Hamish wanted to court me, but he’s not interested, just like all the oth– . . . um, let’s see what else I’ve written.”
Ondine could have sworn her great-aunt was blushing. What had she nearly said? It sounded suspiciously like “all the others”, which meant exactly what?
Maybe she hadn’t been an old prude her whole life. Then another, scarier thought pinged across her brain. If she’d turned Hamish into a ferret for messing up her debutante ball, what else was she capable of?
“What others?” Hamish stood up to his full height (which wasn’t very tall) and put his hands on the equivalent of where his hips should be if he were a man. “How much others have you turned into like me?”
A tingling sensation stole over Ondine’s skin and she silently thanked Hamish for asking the question she dared not utter. This could get very juicy. They just had to stay quiet and let it unfold. Now, if she could just find a way to let Melody know about shutting up, they could –
“You mean there are others like Hamish?” Melody blurted out.
Too late!
“Do you want to hear the curse or not?” Old Col said, her voice sounding testy as she scanned through the pages. “Because I can very well take the diary and go.”
“Please stay, Aunt Col,” Ondine begged. “We need to hear the curse so we can figure out how to reverse it permanently.”
“You girls remind me so much of how we used to be, Birgit and I. We were good friends – we used to do everything together. I’m not sure how, but as we got older, we started to get pretty competitive. I had my gifts, she had hers. When Hamish came on the scene, our competitive streak turned to jealousy. We should have known Hamish had a mind of his own, but each of us thought we could control him. I . . . gosh, I can’t believe I did this, but I cast a spell on him just to drag his sorry self to the debutante ball in the first place. He was such a handsome man. Quite turned my head. Ah dear, the things we do. It seemed so important then, but in hindsight, vanity got the better of me. Just once, I wanted to feel like a princess. Birgit was so much better looking than me, y’see. But I had Hamish on my arm for the ball.”
For a moment the old woman batted her eyes as if she might be crying, then she righted herself and kept going.
“Everybody was looking at me, and I felt wonderful. Birgit was furious and said she’d never speak to me again. But it didn’t matter at the time because I had Hamish. Only, the enchantment started to wear off because alcohol and free will have a stronger pull than magic. I wasn’t to know that at the time, having never touched the stuff until that point in my life.[66] If I’d just let Hamish have his say beforehand, he might have partnered me anyway. But you see, I was too jealous of Birgit. I wanted to make sure I had the best date. So I made him think he wanted to dance all night with me. Except he came to his senses soon enough and knew I’d tricked him.
“Not even the strongest magic in the world can make people do something they really don’t want to do. Hey, Hamish?” Col looked at the ferret on the floor.
“Sorry, Col. I wes pretty young an’ stupid meself at the time.”
Old Col wiped her eyes and flicked through the book. “Right, the curse, let’s see . . . oh, here it is . . .”
“You revolting little weasel. How dare you break my heart?”
“It’s not one of my better ones.” Old Col absently scratched her face.
Melody looked confused. “It doesn’t even rhyme. I thought all spells had to rhyme.”
“That’s just what Birgit Howser would have you think. Don’t worry, it gets worse.” Old Col cleared her throat to read the next part of her curse.
“You can stay like that for all I care. You’re all the same, you lot.”
“See, I completely destroyed the metre as well. Put that down to the heat of the moment, I guess,” she said with a shrug.
“That’s it? That’s the curse?” Melody asked.
“Told you it wasn’t one of my better ones, although it’s lasted longer than I thought it would,” Col said.
Ondine rubbed the patch of skin between her eyebrows to help her think. “So, if he’s been a ferret all this time, does that mean you don’t care? Is that what it would take to get him back?”
Old Col closed the book. “I’d best get out before your ma finds me in here and I get grounded too.”
“I’m still in the room ye know, ladies. Can we get back to the issue of how I get back to me regular self?”
They all looked at Shambles.
He cleared his throat. “I hev a theory. For most of the years I’ve bin like this, nobody could hear me. But now people can. The curse is wearing off, so it is. I’ve reformed since Ondi took me in, truly I have. Surely that’s enough to make ye care?”
“I do believe you have changed, Hamish,” Old Col said. “I swear to you, I do care, and I have lifted the curse. You’ve had a glimpse of the man you once were, and can be again. The rest is up to you.”
At her great-aunt’s words, Ondine couldn’t help thinking about the glimpse she’d had of the man Hamish could be. And That Beautiful Kiss. It was the kind of sense-memory that stayed with you.
Shambles looked up
at Ondine and their gazes locked.
Please be human again, Hamish. Please kiss me again, Hamish.
Chapter Fifteen
As it transpired, Ondine’s “grounding” was not the usual kind. She was isolated in her room for most of the day, but her parents allowed her out for kitchen duty when they had customers. Considering they had customers nearly all day long in the bar and dining room, things didn’t feel that much different from her normal life.
For the rest of the day, Shambles kept his distance, but she told herself that was because he didn’t want to cause more problems or get her into trouble. To add to her punishment, hardly anyone talked to her or even looked at her; the dark glares Cybelle gave her notwithstanding.
They were incredibly busy that night. Ma set Ondine to work in the front dining room instead of scrubbing greasy dishes. There she stood, pencil and paper in hand, ready to walk into a room full of people.
With a quick pep-talk to bolster her spirits, she stepped out into the public arena and took the orders from table six. It was Mrs Howser’s table, and she’d invited some friends to dine with her. They wanted the set menu. Too easy. “I can do this,” Ondine said to herself as she headed back to the kitchen to give Chef the details. The beautiful smells of the busy kitchen invaded her senses, but she ignored her growling tummy as she gave her table’s order to Chef.
Her voice cracked, making the word “six” sound a lot ruder than it should have. “Four sit meals for table sex,” she said.
Any moment now searing heat would pour up her neck and face.
Huh? Nothing. How strange.
For a man who had every right to be furious with Ondine, Chef Henrik looked pretty calm. “Thanks.” He took the note and stuck it to the metal stove-hood with a magnet.
“Right.” Keep going on with work and act as if everything is completely normal. Down the other end of the kitchen, Melody stood with her sleeves rolled up, washing plates![67]
Ooompfh. She turned and walked straight into Cybelle, whose arms were filled with dirty plates.
Arms filled no longer.
The load crashed to the floor with a clang of cutlery and a smash of breaking plates.
“I’m so sorry.” Ondine scraped up the mess with her hands and threw the pieces in the bin. “I didn’t see you.”
Through clenched teeth, Cybelle said, “You did it deliberately.”
With her usual, uncanny sense of good timing, Ma appeared. Their mother knelt down with a dustpan and brush to sweep up. “Happens to the best of us. Ondi, get back out front of house and take table seven’s order. Belle, everything’s OK.”
Straightening herself out, Ondine stood at the kitchen door and drew a steadying breath before she faced the public. Just as she took her first step, she felt a hard push in her back and she sprawled forwards, arms whirling. For a sickening moment she thought she’d land face-down on the carpet. At the last nanosecond her feet came forward. With a wobble she righted herself, and ran a nervous hand through her hair. The push in the back had to be Cybelle’s doing, but having an argument in full view of the public would only prove that restaurant reviewer correct.
Pasting on a smile, even though she wished for the ground to swallow her whole (something she knew would never happen, but that didn’t mean she stopped wishing it), Ondine headed to table seven.
“Did you enjoy your trip?” Lord Vincent asked. His face split with a smile.
Omistars he’s here! He’s here and Ma sent me out deliberately to his table when she could have sent Belle. “Er, yeah, not used to the new carpet.”
Again she waited for the furious blushing. Again it didn’t come.
Did that mean she was getting better at handling boys? Confidence returning, Ondine stood poised with pencil and paper. “Are you ready to place your orders?” she asked.
Lord Vincent gave her a devastatingly gorgeous smile that made her insides go flippy-floppy. To keep on the task at hand, she turned to the rest of the people in his group. She had to do something to stop naughty thoughts invading her senses. If Lord Vincent tried that inside-wrist-kiss again she’d melt into a puddle.
Only the night before, she’d seen the true Hamish and decided he was far more handsome – and attainable – than Lord Vincent. But that was because she never thought she’d see Vincent again. Now Vincent was here and Hamish was a ferret once more, and she couldn’t help losing her head a little.
She mentally told herself off for being so inconsistent with her affections.
Lord Vincent said, “Thank you Ondine,” after she took their orders – top-range stuff too, none of this we’re-only-students-we’ll-order-the-cheapest-thing-on-the-menu-and-then-share-a-dessert stinginess.
With Vincent’s smile fixed in her mind, Ondine’s feet barely touched the floor on the way back to the kitchen, although she kept a keen eye out for Cybelle to avoid another collision.
“How is table seven?” Ma asked as she walked past, her arms full of plates of delicious, steaming food.
“Dreamy,” Ondine murmured, then gave a mental shake of her head as she heard her mother chuckle.
For the rest of the night, Ondine kept her distance from Cybelle and had only necessary conversation with Chef and the odd sly smile from her mother. Lord Vincent, on the other hand, seemed keen to talk every time she delivered food or took their plates away or refilled their carafe of water. His friends had excellent manners, Ondine noted – knife and fork placed together in the centre of the plate when they were finished, instead of a scrunched-up napkin.[68]
“That was delicious,” Vincent said, locking eyes with Ondine and making her heart skip a beat.
Delicious indeed. “I’ll pass your compliments on to the chef.”
“Is the beer garden open tonight? We might take our coffee out there.” His gorgeous eyes burned into hers. The noise of the restaurant died away, making Ondine feel like the world only existed for the two of them. Her brain felt woozy and sluggish under his attentions, as if she’d been at the cooking sherry. All the while, her pulse beat loudly in her ears.
“Let me set up a table for you. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll come back and get you.”
“That sounds promising,” Lord Vincent said with a saucy grin.
This time Ondine did blush, as that familiar bothersome heat seared her skin, but she turned away before he could see how much he’d affected her.
Outside, they still had the fairy lights in the trees from Margi and Thomas’s party, so she turned them on and set to work, flicking the tablecloth into the air and laying it down on to a table. The last time she’d done this, Shambles had raced in and skidded along the top, before turning into a very handsome man who’d delivered Ondine her first real kiss.
And then he’d warned her about Vincent.
Jealousy did strange things to people, Ondine thought. But she missed Hamish all the same. Yes, he was still around (judging by the copious sausages Chef kept turning over on the stove), but the rules of her grounding meant they weren’t to talk to each other.
But oh, how she missed him. Seriously missed him, which was more than she thought was good for her. What was the point of falling in love with a man if he turned back into a ferret when the moon went down?
Falling in love! Oh no, that’s not what she meant to think at all. Not when she thought she might have the attentions of Lord Vincent. Admittedly, he was completely out of her reach socially, but a girl could dream, couldn’t she? And he’d asked to be seated outside and was flirting so outrageously with her, he must be interested, surely?
Then why were her thoughts filled with the delicious Hamish?
Gah! Ondine shook the images from her mind as she straightened out the wrinkles in the tablecloth, all the while chiding herself for such foolishness. If a person looked up “confused” in the dictionary, it would say “Ondine de Groot”.
“Beautiful,” Vincent said, strolling outside. There were no clouds tonight and the moon along with the bud lights cast sma
ll amounts of magic over the garden.
Ondine kept straightening out the tablecloth, even though it didn’t need doing. Anything to keep busy. To keep from falling under Vincent’s spell.
“It is a beautiful garden,” she managed. Something tugged at her, reminding her to keep thinking of Hamish.
“Not the garden, you.” He closed the distance between them.
How did a girl respond to that? A sensible girl would say, “You’re very kind. Now I’ll bring out the tea and coffee orders for your table of friends,” but by this point “sensible” and Ondine had long parted company. She giggled.
Like a twit.
Burning heat spread from her neck all the way to her forehead. If only her feet would work, then she’d walk out of here and back into the kitchen. Even with her shove-in-the-back sister, the kitchen was a much safer prospect right now.
No such luck. Vincent took a step closer while Ondine stood mute. Another step, and he was only a metre away. Less now as he took another step.
One more step and they were almost touching. His hand cupped her chin. Tingling heat spread over her skin and down her body, making her pulse hitch in her throat and her mouth turn dry.
Quick, find something to say, or this is going to get way out of hand.
Her brain fled as Vincent’s lips slowly closed the distance between them. Closer, closer, almost touching.
Jupiter’s moons, he’s going to kiss me!
She tried to swallow, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her voice croaked as she blurted out, “How come your da wants to close us down?”
Vincent paused a centimetre from his target. His voice sounded smooth and hypnotic. “Don’t talk about my father. I don’t want to be thinking of him when I’m with you.”
When his lips came down on hers, Ondine expected to swoon, but she didn’t. Instead her eyes flew open while his cold, wet tongue darted into her mouth in an altogether uncomfortable and completely baffling experience.
There was even a bit of slobber. Ondine’s hands came up and pressed against Vincent’s chest, keeping their bodies apart, but only just.
The Ondine Collection Page 13
