Page 49 of A Lullaby for Witches

In the stillroom, she just stood for a moment, inhaling the comforting scent of herbs and dried flowers. She took no joy in the charm she was about to make, but it had to be done. Jack would pay for his falsehoods.

He had stopped coming to their meeting place the last few weeks, but if she sent for him, he would come. She was sure of it. After that, it would simply be a matter of persuading him to ingest the concoction.

When she’d ground and measured the herbs, she went off in search of a vial, but stopped short at the sight of Henry lounging against the pianoforte in the ballroom. He always seemed to be haunting the house these days, doing nothing in particular except getting underfoot. Before she could backtrack, he’d turned around, his gaze locking on her.

“Cousin,” he said, his dark eyes brightening. “You look pale. Are you well?”

For a moment Augusta couldn’t find her tongue, but then words not quite her own came out of her mouth. “What do you want, Henry?”

“Not this tired old conversation again,” he said, with a dramatic sigh. “I want you to be happy, as I always have, and I always will. I worry for you, especially in your condition.”

“Well, I am quite happy. Your concern is unwarranted.”

“Are you?” He tilted his head to the side, regarding her. “You are a most patient woman, then. Most women would not be sohappyto learn that their lover was already engaged.”

She stilled, her hand resting on the pianoforte. Henry had known. He had known that Jack was already betrothed to someone else, and he had said nothing to her. She resisted the urge to slap him clean across his face, but then he gave her the most patronizing, pitying smile and she lost all restraint. Before she knew it, she had her hands on his lapels, shaking him as if her life depended on it.

“You miserable excuse for a man! You’ve known all this time and said nothing in the hopes that what... I would be your mistress? Yourwife? We’re cousins, raised as siblings—it’s unnatural!” He pushed her off him, holding her at arm’s length while she beat at his chest.

“Augusta! Stop!”

Henry was looking at her with the strangest expression, but she kept hitting him, her anger boiling over. Why did he not defend himself? Why was he just standing there with his hands on her arms? “You brute!” she cried, but still he did not move.

When at last she had exhausted her fury, she let her forehead fall against his chest. But instead of the wool of his waistcoat, the fabric was soft, thin. When she looked up, it was not Henry’s pale face that was peering down at her, but a brown-skinned face etched with concern. The name Reggie floated through her mind, though she was sure she had never met a Reggie in her life.

“Jill? Leo?” he called over his shoulder, his hands still firmly locked onto her arms. She struggled against his grip, but her anger was leeching out of her, leaving her weak and exhausted.

“Augusta, hey. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Reggie?”

Blinking, she looked around the ballroom for the pianoforte, for Henry, but all she saw were a few folding chairs and the half-erected exhibit. A moment later Leo came jogging into the room. “Hey, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I’m okay,” Augusta mumbled, though she felt as if she might throw up.

“She was shouting at someone named Henry, and then started hitting me,” she heard Reggie explain as Leo guided her to a chair. “I think she’s having some kind of manic episode or a nightmare or something.”

“Here, drink this,” Leo said gently, handing her a plastic water bottle.

She took it from him with shaking hands and lifted it to her lips. It tasted like chemicals, but it was cold, and she drank until it ran down her chin.

“Is there someone I should call?” Reggie was asking Leo. “I don’t know if she’s on some kind of medication or something or—”

Leo shook his head. “No, I think it’ll be okay. Can you go let Jill know that we need a few minutes in here? Thanks, man,” he said as Reggie nodded and left.

When they were alone, Leo took Augusta’s cold hands in his and rubbed them warm. “Was it a hallucination again?” he asked in a murmur.

She nodded. It had been a hallucination, but it had also been so much more. Just like in her last episode, she had actuallybeenMargaret. But unlike the last time, she’d had access to Margaret’s thoughts as well—her knowledge, her feelings.

Leo was studying her face, trying to find an answer, though she already knew there wasn’t one. “Was it worse than the other ones?” he asked softly. When she nodded again, he swore under his breath.

“I... IwasMargaret. I saw her brother, Henry and me—I mean, they—were having an argument about someone named Jack. I think he was her lover.” Augusta drew in a soft breath. “She was pregnant,” she whispered, that detail resurfacing in breathtaking clarity. Margaret hadn’t said anything about being pregnant, but Augusta could feel the absence of life in her stomach now, and it left her strangely empty.

Leo nodded, but she could tell that even he was having trouble believing everything she was saying. “All right,” he said soothingly. “What do you want to do? I could call your mom, have her come pick you up maybe?”

Augusta gave a vigorous shake of her head. “No, I’d rather stay here.” There was an unexplainable tug in her chest that tethered her to Harlowe House, and besides, there was no way her mother could even begin to understand what had happened. “I think I should just get back to work and try to forget it.”

Judging from his expression, Leo didn’t agree, but he gave her hands a squeeze. “Okay,” he said, “I’m going to grab my stuff and bring it in here and work, so if you start to feel woozy or anything, let me know.” He hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. “I know it’s none of my business, but I have to ask... Are you using any drugs that might—”

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