Her Muse, Her Magic

by Jane Charles

  “He is the one she loves.”

  Her eyes widened. Goodness, what had she missed while tending to Blake?

  “And I love her.”

  This was certainly a story she wished to hear, but now was not the time. “Then you shall come as well.”

  Blake stopped her with a hand on her waist. “Where are you going and what do you plan to do?” Worry etched across his brow.

  “I must look into the crystal.” Certainly he understood.

  “You need to rest more. Last night nearly killed you.”

  “You would have me rest while my friend is missing?” He was mad. “I promise to sleep the day away tomorrow. This must be done now.”

  She didn’t give him a chance to argue and marched out of the room, assuming the others followed. She met Mrs. Small in the corridor by a door leading outside. “Is it true, she is gone?”

  Mrs. Small smiled brightly. “She is. Can’t you feel it?” She raised her hands up, as if weighing the air. “No more oppressive mood and the castle is bright. It has never been like this before.”

  Brighid supposed that was true, but it was still too soon to celebrate. First, they needed to find Callie.

  Blake stood numbly and watched her leave. What could he do? He couldn’t stop her. If he did, and she was unable to get her friend back, she would never forgive him. Further, Braden might never forgive him, but at what cost to Brighid? She was pale, her face drawn as if she were ill, yet she pressed on. Dammit, he would see that she remained in bed for the next week, even if he had to tie her to it. And, never again would he allow her to banish ghosts. Seeing her lay so lifeless had nearly frightened him more than the banishing itself. He could not live through that again.

  Though he had not been asked, he followed after Brighid and the others. They may be more concerned with finding Miss Eilbeck, but someone had to watch over Brighid.

  She stopped in the center of her garden and knelt before the crystal. “Daphne, you go first.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Sit on the other side, close your eyes and think only of Callie.”

  Miss Alcott did as instructed. She took a deep breath, blew it out and closed her eyes.

  “Now, concentrate only on Callie.”

  There was complete silence as Brighid gazed into the crystal.

  After several moments, Brighid settled back on her heals. “The colors are shifting from lavender to blue but I cannot find an image.”

  “I tried.”

  Brighid smiled at Daphne. “I know. Now it is…” She bit her bottom lip and glanced at those surround her. “Sir Cyrus, would you please do the same.”

  He helped Daphne to her feet then settled on the ground. As with Daphne, he inhaled and closed his eyes. Once again, Brighid leaned to peer into the crystal. She frowned and tilted her head.

  “What is it?” Braden demanded.

  She blinked. “Nothing to be concerned with, I assure you. But, I didn’t see Callie.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Lord Bradenham bit out.

  “She got rid of your great-grandmother didn’t she,” Blake reminded him. “Trust her in this.”

  “Lila, now it is your turn,” Brighid announced.

  The young woman hurried over and took her place on the other side of the crystal.

  Brighid breathed out and leaned in. A smile grew on her face as she studied the crystal. Finally, she sighed and pulled back. “We are getting closer. This time I saw white. It is an excellent sign.”

  She turned, “If you don’t mind, Lord Bradenham?”

  “Why am I last?” he demanded.

  “Because she loves you and I thought to build the connection.”

  He said nothing as he settled across from Brighid.

  “Concentrate only on Callie.”

  “That is all I’ve been doing for the past several days.”

  “Braden,” Blake warned. His friend might be frustrated but it was no reason to take his anger out on Brighid. She was only trying to help.

  “I apologize.”

  Brighid waited for him to close his eyes before learning forward. Her eyes widened. “Oh, pink.”

  Blake wanted to ask if that was good or bad, but held his silence, as everyone else did, allowing her to concentrate. She wasn’t frowning, so it must be a good sign.

  She pulled slightly back. “Red.”

  Was that worry in her voice? What did it mean?”

  “Pink again, now white.”

  Blake would have to ask what all of this meant when she was done. It might not matter at all, but he was of a curious nature.

  Brighid gasped and leaned forward, concentrating on whatever it was she saw. A moment later she blinked and fell back. “She is gone.”

  “Gone!” Braden barked. “I thought you found her. White, pink, red, whatever the devil all of that means.”

  “I did see her. I can’t tell where she is, she is still among us, my lord.”

  Blake blew out breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding.

  “What did she look like?” Braden demanded.

  “She looked cold,” Brighid began. “Even though she has a shawl. Faded a bit. She’s wearing a yellow walking dress and she seems tired.”

  “Now what do we do?” Sir Cyrus asked.

  Brighid brightened. ”We will bring her back just after midnight.”

  The question needed to be asked, but he feared the answer. “How?”

  “Much in the same manner as we banished Mrs….” She looked around, “You-know-who.”

  “So, we will return to the dungeon?” Blake held his breath, fearing her answer. He never wanted to go back there again.

  Brighid frowned. “I don’t believe so, but I can’t be certain at this moment.”

  Braden stood. “Will we need the same group from last night? I’ll make sure they’re all there.”

  Brighid shook her head in the negative. “I will need you, Sir Cyrus, Daphne, Lila and those closest to Callie.”

  “They will be here,” Braden replied as if he were king and could order anyone about as he saw fit.

  “But first,” Brighid said, her gaze locked with Braden’s. “You will meet me here shortly before midnight.”

  Blake would have laughed at the image of Braden walking through Brighid’s garden, tossing hemp seeds over his right shoulder while reciting the incantation Brighid had written out for him, if this were simply a party entertainment. Instead, this might possibly be the last chance they had at finding Miss Eilbeck.

  Brighid gazed into the crystal, searching for signs or at least a location of her friend.

  The rest of their friends were at the masquerade, attempting to entertain the guests, though he knew most of them were not enjoying themselves. Even Thorn muttered something about not pursuing ladies without drawers until all of this ghost business was put behind them. “How could one possibly engage in merriment when Miss Eilbeck remains missing?”

  Only Patrick and Laura stood with him. Even though they had not met Miss Eilbeck, Patrick remained Brighid’s connection to the spirit realm and she wanted him near if needed.

  “Has he seen her yet?”

  Blake nearly jumped at the whispered voice from behind. How long had Miss Lila Southward, Miss Alcott and Sir Cyrus been standing there?

  He shook his head instead of speaking. Not that they had been told to be silent; Blake simply assumed it was needed for concentration.

  “It is past midnight,” Sir Cyrus hissed.

  None of them needed a reminder of that fact.

  “It just turned,” Daphne insisted.

  Brighid looked up from her crystal and nodded to Braden.

  He slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder. “I see her!”

  “Where?” Brighid asked calmly.

  “Callie, sweetheart, is that really you?” Braden said instead of answering Brighid.

  “Stay there, I am coming for you.”

  Could they be speaking to one another? This
was more than any of them dared hope for.

  He fully turned, reached out his arm, a look of pain and disappointment swept across his face before he dropped it. “She’s gone.”

  Well, Brighid had told him to only look over his shoulder and not turn, but Blake would have done the same in a similar circumstance.

  “Where is she?” Brighid came to her feet.

  “The fountain in the gardens, where we first met.”

  Brighid grabbed her satchel from Chetwey and started for the castle door. She called out, “We must hurry,” to the rest of the assembled group. “Follow Lord Bradenham to the fountain he means.”

  They followed Braden, racing through the castle and into the formal gardens, tearing through the crowds, pushing people out of their way, not caring who they may have offended. Party guests filled the back gardens, the ballroom and many common rooms of the house. Quent had invited so many guests that even the rooms and the inns in Tollbright and Ravenglass were filled to capacity with many people sharing chambers. Blake had even offered the use of Torrington Abbey, with his aunt and uncle’s permission. Many took advantage of the opportunity so as not to share a chamber, even though it was a thirty minute carriage ride away.

  As soon as they came to the fountain, Brighid had the group form a triangle. She was at the top point with Braden and Miss Lila Southward at the opposite two. Sir Cyrus sat to Brighid’s right, Miss Daphne Allcott to her left and Patrick was placed between Braden and Miss Southward, directly across from Brighid. If Braden was correct in the location, the spirit of Callie Eilbeck should be in the center.

  Blake hung back and observed, watching for any distress in Brighid.

  Again she chanted in a language he did not understand, other than her friend’s name. The difference this time was her tone. Instead of yelling and being forceful, it was calm and loving, as if she were calling her friend to her.

  A gentle breeze filled the air along with the scent of gardenias. A mist formed in the center of the triangle, twirling and shifting and Blake could swear he heard the twinkling of bells.

  Brighid continued to speak in a loving tone; never once raising her voice and the mist began to take shape, forming into a woman. It was more of a silhouette from where he stood observing, but the entire circumstance was fascinating. The image continued to solidify until Miss Callie Eilbeck stood in the center.

  She had done it. Brighid had brought her back.

  A round of applause erupted from the veranda. The party guests must have followed them, “Bloody hell!” How were they going to explain this?

  He turned to congratulate Brighid only to find her once again, collapsed on the ground and unconscious. He was never allowing her to do this again.

  Murmurs of quiet voices intruded on her conscious and Brighid slowly opened her eyes. Blake was seated next to her, his eyebrows drawn together with concern.

  She opened her eyes more fully and glanced around. She was lying on a settee in what appeared to be the library at Marisdùn Castle. Blake, his sister, along with Lord Patrick, sat nearby. What had happened?

  The memory flooded her mind and she sat up with a start. “Callie!”

  Blake gently pushed her back against the pillows. “Your friend is back and seems to have suffered nothing more than a terrible fright. My concern is with you.”

  “She is truly back and whole?”

  Blake smiled lovingly, his green eyes warm and tender. “Yes. You did it, Brighid.”

  “It wasn’t me alone. It was those who loved her that pulled her back.” She knew deep down that without her friends and Lord Bradenham, she could never have saved Callie.

  “Please let me sit up.” She felt ridiculous lying on the settee when she was perfectly fine. Lord Patrick handed her a glass and she took a tentative sip. It was stronger than wine, but not unpleasant. She assumed it was brandy by the way it burned a warm trail to her stomach.

  “We shall leave you alone.” Laura smiled as her husband escorted her out of the doors to the gardens. Guests were milling about, wearing masks and elaborate costumes and it was still dark. She could not have been unconscious all that long.

  “Is everyone else enjoying the party?”

  “They seem to be.” Blake smiled as he leaned back and put an arm around Brighid. Warm spread through her being. “Braden has taken Callie off somewhere. Garrick, Thorn and Quent are searching for ladies without…”

  “What?” she asked when his cheeks reddened.

  “Nothing. Simply entertainment.”

  She took another sip of the brandy. It was quite good. “You do not have to remain here with me. I am sure you wish to join your friends.”

  His arm tightened around her, drawing her even closer. Her skin began to tingle even though clothing separated them. “I would much rather remain here with you.” He looked down at her, “Unless you wish to join in the entertainments?”

  She glanced out the doors again. Everyone seemed to be having a delightful time, but in truth, she was exhausted. These last few days had taken everything out of her. “I would rather stay here, if you don’t mind.” With your arms around me.

  “It is probably for the best.” He winked. “Your incantation drew a crowd. Wolf explained that you had learned a few tricks from an illusionist and they are hoping you will perform more.”

  Alarm shot through her. One of the most important rules was to never, ever practice witchcraft in front of others. What if some didn’t believe Lord Wolverley? What if someone came after her? What if they wanted to burn her at the stake?

  “Relax, Brighid,” Blake soothed. “I can only guess what is going on in your mind by the sheer look of panic on your face.” He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “They believed Wolf. Trust me in this. And none of my friends, or Miss Eilbeck’s will ever reveal the truth.”

  “It still frightens me.”

  He turned more fully toward her. “I promise to never let anything happen to you.”

  She wished she could believe him. “If they came for me, there isn’t anything you could do.”

  His green eyes grew intense. “I will never allow anyone to harm my wife.”

  Brighid blinked. “Wife?”

  He grinned. “That is, if you would do me the honor of marrying me.”

  Joy surged through her. It was what she always wanted. She flung an arm around his neck, drawing him close, and kissed him. Her body came alive as energy surged. He was her destined mate—her strength.

  Blake deepened the kiss and Brighid allowed it, her pulse fairly humming with desire.

  “Ah, she is awake.”

  They jerked apart to find Thorn leaning against the door, a broad grin upon his face.

  “I thought you were out seeking..um, that is, enjoying the festivities.”

  Why did Blake stammer when trying to mention what Thorn was about?

  “I had the most delightful encounter.” He sauntered into the room.

  “Brighid does not need the details,” Blake warned.

  Thorn simply chuckled. “It was all very innocent, I assure you.”

  “Go on.”

  “There was a charming fairy, gossamer wings and all, with golden hair, sitting apart from the others, sketching, if you can believe it.”

  She knew Anna was going to come to the party whether invited or not. She would like to see her friend if she was still there.

  “I couldn’t see her face, of course. The colorful mask covered the whole of it, with the exception of her full, ruby lips.”

  Blake cleared his throat.

  “She refused to dance with me, but insisted I sit for her.”

  “Did you?” Anna must have delighted in having someone as handsome as Thorn to sketch.

  “Of course! I am not one to deny a lady her desire.” He almost seemed affronted by the question.

  This time Blake snorted.

  “It took her hardly any time at all and a very good likeness, by the way.”

  “Then what happened? Though, I am
hesitant to ask with Brighid in the room.”

  “I once again asked her to dance, but she begged me to retrieve her a glass of punch.” He rubbed his chin. “She never told me her name and when I questioned her, she shushed me, though she spoke with an Italian accent, so she shouldn’t be this difficult to find.” He frowned. “It is most disconcerting.”

  Brighid could tell him who the fairy was but, if Anna wanted to keep her identity a secret, she would protect her friend.

  “So why are you in the library and not in the gardens?” Blake inquired.

  “When I returned she was gone and I haven’t been able to locate her since.”

  For a moment Brighid feared a spirit had taken Anna, but dismissed the idea. The hour was growing late and she probably had to sneak back home before her uncle realized she’d left. She and Lila had probably snuck out together and returned in the same manner.

  “You, by chance, haven’t seen her, have you?”

  “No, I am sorry,” Brighid answered.

  Thorn let out a sigh and wandered back toward the door. “Then I shall leave you two to whatever you were doing.”

  Blake chuckled after his friend left. “Poor Thorn. Sitting for a portrait was not how he planned to spend this celebration.”

  “It is rather unusual.”

  “These past few days have been beyond unusual.” Blake focused on her once again. “But it is the past and, will remain in the past, with only the future ahead of us.”

  “What of the remaining ghosts?” she questioned. “I am sure Lord Bradenham would like them to be gone eventually.”

  “Braden can go hang,” Blake muttered before taking her lips again.

  Brighid stood at the doorway leading to the kitchens of Marisdùn Castle and looked out into her garden. The last three weeks had been a flurry of activity as she prepared for her wedding. Blake was with her every day and well into the evening, leaving her with burning kisses each night as he left her at her grandmother’s door.

  She couldn’t believe how many people were attending their wedding. There were familiar faces from Tolbright and Ravenglass, people she considered acquaintances and a few friends. A part of her assumed many would attend to see who the future Earl of Torrington had chosen for a bride, and not the other way around.