Page 1 of Potions and Proposals
“There can be no community between you and me;We are enemies.”
Shrill shouts stopped Benedict Matherson mid-sentence while he handed out the morning assignments in the lobby of Matherson Manor. He frowned. Guests should be enjoying a peaceful morning breakfast on the terrace, taking in the morning sun – not running down the grand staircase, shrieking and crying out for help.
Benedict dismissed his staff and started for the breakfast room to find the source of the terror. Today’s morning check-in was only ramping up, so now was not the time for a crowd of complaining and frightened guests to flood the lobby.
“What happened to the breakfast group?” he asked Suzy, the day manager, who was trying to calm down an elderly guest satin an armchair. She rose from her crouched position, smoothing her hands over her navy pencil skirt.
“Davis, the new waiter, said someone jinxed the teacups,” Suzy whispered, so the guest wouldn’t hear. “When the guests took a sip, they transformed into butterflies.”
Benedict ran his hands through his hair. The residue of product reminded him it needed a cut. The top was getting a little heavy, and he prided himself on always being put together and in control.
“No one was harmed?” he asked, knowing exactly who would have pulled such a harmless yet startling prank.
“No.” Suzy shook her head. “But I can’t go too close to the terrace with the sun beating in.” A vampiric day manager might not be very practical, but she was the best he had on staff.
“It’s fine – they could use you in the lobby. Dealing with this mess and check-in will swamp them,” Benedict said, looking towards the breakfast room to see the waiters sweeping up some broken dishware. Hopefully no one had been injured in the rush to flee.
“Check the gardens. A few guests reported seeing piranhas in the fountain. No one has been bitten. They’re just frightened, and probably embarrassed,” Suzy explained.
Benedict let out a long exhale as she escorted the older guest to the lobby and began to soothe the frightened crowd. Of course Lucinda had jinxed the fountain; water was her familial element.
Before he’d even reached the terrace, a middle-aged woman had blocked his path, wagging a finger in his face.
“This is an outrage,” the guest barked, dragging her child behind her. “Our six-year-old son was playing by the fountain, and he would’ve had his hand bitten off if I hadn’t noticed the fish. You’re asking for a lawsuit!”
Benedict dismissed her legal threat; people said all types of things when angry or scared. It also helped that the HighPriestess of their coven dealt out the law in Foxford: a simple spell, and the disgruntled magless family would forget about their visit to their small town of Foxford. However, he wouldn’t let it get that far. Using spells on magless, those without magic, was frowned upon. Though the coven and their leader did only what they had to, they didn’t need a member of the Order sent to inspect Foxford and its magical inhabitants for any odd uses of magic this close to the Autumn Festival.
“This is a terrible prank that will be dealt with immediately.” Benedict glanced around, feeling the stare of some new guests. “Please consider the rest of your stay complimentary, Mrs—?”
“Ladbrooke! Don’t try and buy me off,” Mrs Ladbrooke grumbled. “And to think we were to return for the Autumn Festival. Today is the last time I’ll step foot in Foxford, and I’ll make sure anyone else who reads Travel Digest feels the same.”
Benedict clenched his teeth, trying to contain his frustration. Of course; she must be Mrs Ladbrooke, the travel writer he’d been expecting. The small town of Foxford relied on tourism, and its Autumn Festival was the biggest celebration of the year. The town had previously only had small inns, but as tourism increased every year, Benedict had decided to convert the Matherson family manor into a hotel after graduating university about four years ago.
“Is there any way I can help rectify the situation?” he asked, willing to do anything – within reason–to prevent any guest from leaving the Manor with a sour taste in their mouth because of some adolescent prank. He hated the thought of something connected to the Manor tainting Foxford’s reputation.
“Yes, send someone to come and collect our bags,” she said, turning her nose up. “My family and I won’t stay another minute in a place that doesn’t put the safety of its guests first.”
“Again, I’m sorry for this experience.” Benedict motioned for Reid, the porter, who was passing with other guests’ bags.
Reid stopped. “Sir?”
“Reid is the best we have,” Benedict announced, trusting his staff to handle the guest. There was no point in giving the woman a platform, since she had refused to accept his apology.
“That’s not saying much,” Mrs Ladbrooke snapped.
Reid smiled despite the snub. He was wonderful with disgruntled customers, probably because he could control them with the mere sound of his voice. Not for the first time, Benedict was very glad to have hired a siren.
“I promise that you and your family will be smiling from ear to ear by the time you leave,” Reid said charmingly in his velvety voice. Mrs Ladbrooke’s scowl eased. “Lead the way.”
Without any hesitation, Mrs Ladbrooke obeyed, and Benedict reminded himself to give Reid a raise. He was sure he’d find a glowing review in next month’s Travel Digest.
The smell of pastries and bacon filled the breakfast room, and despite some broken glasses and spilt drinks on the white tablecloths, the mess was minimal. Benedict sighed with relief; the clatter of rushing guests had made the event sound far worse than it was. Most of the butterflies had left through the open doors to the terrace, where he found two toppled tables.
Benedict breathed in the fresh air as he followed the gravel path through the gardens and past a discarded game of croquet, appreciating the peaceful morning sun far more than the crowded lobby. Hidden amongst a square of hedgerows sat the ornate fountain that predated the Manor. People loved to get married by the embracing granite couple, and the hedgesprovided a natural division between the gardens and the rest of the manor.
Putting his cufflinks in his pockets and rolling up his sleeves, Benedict peered into the waters and let out a long exhale. Snapping piranhas swam in the rippling depths. He hesitated, his fingertips lingering on the edge of the fountain. Lucinda would never pull a prank that could harm anyone. Hawthornes were sickeningly good-natured, and though he enjoyed bringing out her dark side more than he cared to admit, she’d never crossed the line.
Swishing his hand in the water, he stifled a laugh as the fish transformed from jaw-snapping piranhas into beautiful silver and orange koi fish. When he removed his hand from the water, Lucinda’s spell reasserted itself and the koi disappeared.
