Love Spell in London

by Shereen Vedam

  His gaze turned to Grace. “You, too, are partly responsible for this. You helped remove the black infestation from my waters.”

  Before she could explain Braden’s role in that little miracle, Lleland swung her up and enveloped her in a bear hug. “Thank you. You have my undying gratitude.”

  “Put the witch down,” Queen Eolonde said. “Leave us, she and I have business to discuss.”

  Grace’s mother and Merryn were instantly at Grace’s side, a shield erected in front of them. Braden stood by, his magnificent sword drawn.

  “Alone,” Eolonde said.

  “As you wish.” Lleland pointed to his children and then at the sky. In a swirl of water vapor, he and his son rose up, but Llyn remained on the ground with Alfred.

  The water god hesitated a moment and then he shrugged and nodded to Eolonde. “I will await you in my bed tonight.”

  Grace’s glance swung with shock between Eolonde and Lleland. Could the enchanted rain have affected them already?

  With the water god’s departure, the heavy rain reduced to a slight drizzle. Grace glanced at the queen, remembering Eolonde’s vow as she lay dying. Save me and I will haunt you for the rest of your life.

  She turned to her mother. “Please, Mama, I, too, wish to speak with Queen Eolonde alone.”

  Her mother’s grip on Grace’s hand tightened, but then with a reluctant nod, she guided a protesting Merryn and Braden back to Jonas’s side.

  Once they were out of earshot, Eolonde said, “You abandoned my son in the underworld.”

  She was testing her. Grace had to convince Eolonde that she had released her from the staff believing Dewer was not in there with her. Lying and truth apparently went hand in hand. Like her and Dewer. They were two halves of the same coin. The reminder boosted her ability to play her part with conviction.

  “I know he still lives,” Grace said with defiance. “I intend to fetch him. You may not be able to return to the underworld but I could use your guidance, Your Majesty. Be assured, with or without your help, I will bring him home.”

  “You are the most foolish of witches then. I must admit I was shocked to learn that you had escaped from my realm unscathed. How did you evade Lucifer’s wrath?”

  “I called his bluff.”

  Eolonde stared at her in silence for a long terrifying moment. Then she burst out laughing. “You will be the death of my son, yet. I now accept that dicey future is his desire. As such, I give you both my blessing.”

  Grace’s mouth dropped open in shock. This was the outcome she and Dewer wanted but having it given to her so easily left her dumbstruck. No wonder so many people fell prey to using deception. It could be alluringly effective.

  “Treat him well or you will have me to deal with.” With that warning, Eolonde followed the water god into the clouds.

  Strong arms circled Grace then and a soft dear voice whispered, “I told you we would win her over.”

  She swung around and then squealed in joy at Dewer standing before her. She hugged him and kissed both his cheeks and his forehead and his eyes until he burst out laughing and captured her lips.

  Grace surrendered, not even minding that tears as well as rain now stained both their cheeks. Once satisfied he was not a figment of her imagination, she drew back and noticed Farfur at his side.

  “Wroof,” the hellhound said and began to sniff Bartos’s back end in a happy greeting.

  “I have to thank Alfred for bringing you safely home,” Grace said and glanced over to the tree line. Death’s envoy was busy embracing the water goddess.

  “He knows,” Dewer said, hugging her close. “As for you, my lady, you are as fine a liar as any found in the underworld,”

  “What if I had refused to play along?” Grace asked with a tender smile. “Merryn made quite a convincing case for leaving all of you trapped in that staff.”

  “I knew you would not,” he said with supreme confidence. “It is in your nature, Grace, to see the good in people. I knew you would see it in her as you did with me.” He kissed her again, as if to prove the point. “Your compassion is your greatest strength.”

  “Well, we have achieved success with your mother, but what about mine?”

  “What about me?” her mother asked coming up.

  Grace faced her, holding Dewer’s hand. “I love him, Mama.”

  “So, it seems, Grace.”

  “Will you give our union your blessing, Lady Mandell?” Dewer asked.

  “For bringing Jonas home and keeping my impulsive daughter safe, I will do more than that,” her mother said, with a fond smile aimed at him. “I will preside at your Wyhcan wedding.”

  Epilogue

  IT WAS DUSK AND FLOATING witch globes lit the clearing next to the Laneast wishing well. Joy, Grace’s staff, and Kemp, Dewer’s staff, were stationed on the south side of a raised platform, closest to the well, and furthest away from the north steps leading up here. This dais stretched twenty feet wide and was just as long, bordered by four columns, each formed by the trunks of ancient live trees who occasionally grumbled about the time it was taking for this ceremony to begin. Their canopy acted as a rooftop.

  When her mistress dismantled the love spell anchored within Joy, she had shunted much of the excess magical energy into this platform. As a result, vines now engraved the floorboards, and they sprouted leaves and flowers which scented the air with an intoxicating aroma of love.

  For once, Joy was permitted to be herself instead of being disguised as a broom. With this audience, she could show off her splendor. Her golden orb shone brightly above a staff engraved with symbols that glowed in the afternoon sky.

  Kemp, too, appeared stunning, standing upright across from her on the raised platform. His blue orb twirled lazily, flicking the audience with flashes that highlighted each face and bright costume.

  Joy had never seen so many Wyhcans in one place. Witches filled the pews to the left, and warlocks sat on the right, appearing as delighted as ordinary family and friends at a gathering.

  There were also a few humans present, including Lady Flint, the new Wyhcan Lore Keeper. As was Grace’s sister’s husband, Darrin, who had apparently only recently learned that his wife was a witch.

  Shielded by the surrounding trees and shrubs, or crouching beneath benches or behind curtains, even hidden within dishes and urns, fae creatures also abounded. She rarely spotted one, but their empathic chatter was as deafening as that of the invited guests.

  This Wyhcan wedding ceremony was supposed to have begun a half hour ago. Even Grace’s mother had been pacing behind the table set up with the ceremonial urn, awaiting her daughter’s signal to begin proceedings.

  Joy guessed what kept her mistress. While all the benches past the platform were filled to overflowing, the one up front, where Dewer’s mother was supposed to have pride of place, sat empty.

  “Is she here yet?” Olivia, Grace’s witch’s hat, sent the anxious query winging its way toward Joy. She was asking about Dewer’s mother. Olivia was with their mistress, playing the part of the wedding hat and unable to see who had arrived by the podium.

  “No sign of her,” Joy replied. She glanced at Kemp. “Do you think she will come?”

  “Pwy?” he asked in Welsh.

  “Who?” Joy translated, wondering if she had heard him correctly. Once she ascertained she had, she resisted the urge to roll her orb in frustration. “Who do you think we have been waiting for all this while? The banished queen of the underworld, of course.”

  “My master did invite her,” Kemp replied in his reserved tone.

  “I know that!” She was tempted to splash water from the urn at him, but if she did, Grace’s mother might get caught in the crossfire and refuse to allow Joy to participate in the ceremony.

  “The master sent her a reminder this morning,” Kemp added.

  “And? Did she say she would come?”

  “She did not respond.”

  Joy breathed a deep sigh of disappointment. Her mistr
ess believed it would mean the world to her husband-to-be if his mother attended his wedding ceremony. Then Joy spotted movement beneath the empty bench right across from the podium. A fat human-headed creature with a long slithering body scooted under the bench that had been reserved for the dark fae queen. A pythos! If one of those creatures were here, it was a clear portend the queen planned to attend.

  She sent a quick message to her mistress. Queen Eolonde is on her way.

  A bell sounded from the woods. The bride was ready.

  Baroness Adair came around to the front of the table and clapped her hands three times. The audience quieted.

  “NOW ALL PATHWAYS WILL open to you, from north, south, east and west, for all the days to come.” As Grace’s mother’s blessing reverberated through the woods, trees slid apart.

  Dewer anxiously stepped out with Farfur at his side. He came to a startled halt as Grace, too, came forward with Bartos at her side. She wore a white empire-waist satin gown overlaid with silver netting that showcased her beautiful bosom to advantage and trapped his breath in his throat.

  “Breathe,” she whispered with an enchantress’s smile. Confidently taking his right hand in her warm grip, she wove her fingers though his cold digits. With the hounds acting as their escorts, they began the procession toward the platform.

  “What took you so long?” He had been going crazy waiting for the blasted trees to move aside and let him through.

  “Your mother has arrived,” Grace whispered.

  “I would have married you if she never gave us her blessing,” he said in a fierce tone that denied his frantic call earlier asking his mother, Where are you?

  “I know,” Grace said, “but I wanted this day to be as perfect as the picture you once painted for me.”

  A flock of quail flew up and over the crowd of onlookers, wings flapping, their cries a sharper whet-my-lip smacking sound to Jonas’s whoop-whoop-whoop.

  Merryn’s blessing followed from up ahead. “Now you will feel the strength of your commitment for each other, nourish your soul, elude problems, spot danger and safeguard your family, for all the days to come.”

  They passed Grace’s father and her sisters who beamed their silent blessings to them. Even her elder sister was there, with her husband, looking wistfully at the Wyhcan ceremony in progress.

  After his beloved shied away from inviting her elder sister, murmuring that the lady had shunned her heritage and would not enjoy a Wyhcan ceremony, he had personally carried the invitation to London. After he claimed his title at the House of Lords, he carried on to Grace’s sister’s home to add his appeal that Anna attend tonight. To his delight, she said she would be honored to come. Within a day, news arrived that so would her human husband.

  Grace squeezed Dewer’s hand as they passed the couple. The look in his beloved’s eyes said her estranged sister’s attendance with her husband had indeed made Grace’s day complete.

  In the next pew up, Trystan sat between his warlock father and witch mother, all smiles.

  They then passed Braden who sat next to Merryn and Jonas and their aunt Morwena, the High Sage.

  By then, he and Grace had reached the front of the aisle where Lleland and Queen Eolonde sat. A delicate touch drew Dewer’s startled glance toward his and Grace’s clasped hands. Her ring was forming a golden tentacle that arched over to touch his ring finger. The thread then drew their fingers together and tied a knot.

  Lleland stood and faced them. The ring had been a magical gift from this water god. Dewer raised his and Grace’s bound fingers toward the water god, ready to accept his new friend’s wedding gift.

  Cool refreshing rain poured from the night sky and drenched his and Grace’s clasped hands.

  “Now you shall feel no thirst,” Lleland said, bestowing his wedding blessing, “for the world will act as your fountain, for all the days to come.”

  Nearby, Llyn and Llyr, both in their human forms, she in a flowy blue gown and he in a gray morning suit, smiled their approval. Alfred was not beside Llyn. She’d complained to him earlier that his master, displeased with his role in Dewer’s escape and saving all those underworld monsters, was keeping him busy running errands left and right. He’d also been refused a new tablet until he proved he was worthy of it. He’d been given a paper booklet instead that he was too ashamed to show her.

  Eolonde, dressed in a sparkling ebony wedding gown, stepped around Lleland and climbed the platform steps.

  Dewer glanced from his mother to Grace, who shrugged, appearing as worried as he felt. His mother going up to the podium was not part of the planned ceremony. What was she up to? Grace did not hesitate, however, to climb up, too. What an amazing woman.

  Eolonde turned to face them before the table and covered their bound hands. Her gaze met Dewer’s. Could that be a hint of moisture at the corner of her eyes? She then focused on Grace and her typical malevolence returned. Under his mother’s hand, he tightened his protective grip on Grace’s fingers. His mother blinked once as if bringing herself back to the present and gestured for Grace’s mother to approach.

  The baroness did hesitate but then she strode forward and took Eolonde’s free hand and placed the other over the bride and groom’s clasped fingers.

  “In exchange for your daughter’s hand in marriage to my son, I give their bond my blessing.” Gasps rose from the audience as the power of the acceptance of the fae bargain touched everyone present. Energy swept from her in streams of light spreading across the clearing and into the woods. “Now we shall live as one family, forming unbreakable bonds, friendships that last a lifetime, walking in each other’s shadows, separating when necessary, but always returning when needed, for all the days to come.”

  Eolonde nodded to Grace’s mother who then spoke. “In the eyes of the Creator, your family and your friends, you two are one.” The golden thread tethering Grace’s ring finger to his, unwound, releasing them. “You need nothing to bind you, for nothing can tear your apart, for all the days to come.”

  Dewer and Grace then washed their hands in the water within the ceremonial urn, symbolizing a fresh clean start to their new life.

  He finally had a chance to kiss Grace, something he had been wanting to do all day. When he released her, joy shining in her eyes, Grace turned to hug her mother. Then she bestowed the same enthusiastic embrace on Dewer’s mother. “Thank you.”

  Heart hammering in worry, his gaze met his mother’s startled one. There was a limit to how much congeniality his mother would permit. He silently mimicked Grace’s words of thanks before tugging his beloved wife away.

  It was all real. Grace was now his wife. Before that amazing reality could completely sink in, people gathered closer wanting to wish them well. It was well past midnight, all the guests had returned home and, finally, Dewer had Grace all to himself.

  They strolled back through the forest toward the Laneast well. Once there, he realized it had been hours since he last kissed her. He made amends for that sad lack of attention. By the time he pulled back, she was as breathless as he had been when he first saw her in her wedding finery.

  Bartos and Farfur were leaning against the well wall, half asleep, eyes barely open. Ifan was stretched out between them in his hare form, fast asleep, belly up, and paws curled.

  Spotting a vine growing on the platform beside them, Dewer tore off two leaves and gave one to Grace. “Shall we make a wish?”

  She laid her head on his shoulder. “All my wishes have already come true. I can make a promise.”

  “Promises they will be then,” he said, and together they dropped the two leaves into the well.

  “Dewer, I will always love you.”

  “And I will love you,” he replied with reverence, “for all the days to come.”

  THE END

  IF YOU ENJOYED THIS story, please consider leaving a short review for this book wherever you purchased it. The review will help other readers decide if this book is worth their time.

  BOOK 1 IN THE C
AULDRON Effect series, Coven at Callington, and

  Book 2 in The Cauldron Effect series, Warlock from Wales,

  are currently available through here: https://www.shereenvedam.com/witches-warlocks/

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  About the Author

  Once upon a time, USA Today bestselling author Shereen Vedam read fantasy and romance novels to entertain herself. Now she writes heartwarming tales braided with threads of magic and love and mystery elements woven in for good measure.

  Shereen's a fan of resourceful women, intriguing men, and happily-ever-after endings. If her stories whisk you away to a different realm for a few hours, then Shereen will have achieved one of her life goals.

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