Page 38 of Magic Touch
At the door, he stops. "You are the finest woman I've ever known. I'll not look for another, for I have had perfection."
Before I can chide him for his foolish statement, he opens my door and slips into the hall.
Alone, I curl into the sheets.
With a meow, Simon jumps onto the bed and snuggles up against my chest. He knows I'm sad and wants to take it from me.
"I can't see how happiness is possible now, Simon." I scratch his head.
He stretches long and makes a funny squeaking sound before falling into a soft purr.
"You're right. I shouldn't think so much. We'll just go about our business and let Goddess work out the rest of our lives. Happiness is only ever a dream for a woman like me anyway. I was content before I met Sir William, and I'll be so again when he's gone back to his life." I pet Simon along his back, and close my eyes.
Chapter
Eleven
WILLIAM
On the afternoon of the new moon, I read the strange grimoire looking for the reason the book was kept in my family for generations. The old language, as Prudence called it, took me a while to understand. It's a strange combination of Latin and Gallic, but with some knowledge of both, I’ve pushed through.
The spells are about control and power. One to control a man’s mind. One to imitate love. A spell to make one person look like another. A spell to manipulate animals, and a death curse. With every page, the spells become more deadly.
Prudence arrives with Anne and sits beside me.
Anne places the tea on the table before leaving.
“Esme has gone for a walk. She said she’s tired of being cooped up in the stillroom. I thought you might like some tea and company.” Prudence pours me a cup.
I put the book aside, take the tea, and sigh. “I see nothing good in these spells.”
“Do you desire to use them?” She pours her own tea.
Shocked, I gape at her. “They are evil. I wouldn’t cast to harm another or kill someone. Even to force an animal to do one’s bidding strikes me as a terrible undertaking.”
Frowning, Prudence nods. “Perhaps that is the point.”
“I fail to see your logic, Great Mother.” The tea warms me, chamomile to calm the nerves and mint for digestion. This pot of tea was meant to make me feel better, and it has done so. I relax against the sofa cushion.
“Perhaps your family kept it as a test. If you have no desire to use the spells, does that not say something about your character?”
Putting the cup aside, I look from the book to her. “A dangerous test. If I or one of my relatives were dark, they would use these spells. They could kill with them.”
“That is so.” Prudence hands me my cup and saucer again. “They could have, and you could yet. However, you say you have no desire to use a spell meant for ill. Is that not telling?”
I see her point. “Too large a risk in my opinion.”
“Shall we burn it tonight?” She watches me over her cup.
“It would be best. I despair that another Meriwether had not done so generations ago.” My heart is lighter with the knowledge that the book will be destroyed.
“It was for you to do. This is meant.” Prudence looks at the door just as Esme enters.
“What is meant?” She sits, pours herself a cup of tea, sips, and smiles.
Her smile, though meant for the tea, sears into my heart. “I’m going to destroy the ancient grimoire tonight. Prudence believes my decision is meant to be.”
“I see. You have no use for the spells within?” She’s watching me so carefully I feel it in my blood.
