Page 51 of Magic Touch
Shaking her head, she smiles. "I don't know the answer to what you're wondering, but I can hear it in your mind, clearly as my own worries."
Walking to the door, I touch her arm and caress up to her elbow. She smells of sunshine, earth, and flowers. I want to bury my face in her soft hair. "Perhaps we should take a step back from whatever this is until we know the truth."
"I want to disagree with you, but I can't." Sorrow spills into her eyes, making me wish I could pull the words back and never even think them.
I press my lips to her forehead. "Friends?"
"Always." She smiles up at me.
Chapter
Fourteen
ESME
I'll not lie, even to myself. Taking a step back from William's embrace is hard. If it is the nature of his magic to gain what he wants, then he still wants me.
When I look for it, I sense no magic beyond normal desire binding us. I have much time to think on the subject as I trek each day to see Mrs. Kyle. I knock on the Kyle’s door, and she calls, "Come in."
Standing by the kitchen door, Clair grins. "I'm feeling almost myself today. What was in that tea the gentleman made me? Never mind, I don't want to know. I'm happy to feel better and see my grandson for a few more days."
"I don't know myself. He has some skills." Despite the fact that we're speaking of tea making and healing, I find my cheeks warm at the thought of William and his talents.
"Indeed, does he?" Clair's smile widens. "Do you have a tender for the man?"
I rush into the kitchen and start boiling some water. "He's not in my sphere, so it's of no consequence."
A little round table has been newly placed in the corner of the kitchen with two chairs. She fondles the table. "Mr. Waller made me this table and brought it to me as a gift. Imagine a woman my age getting a gift from a man. I think if that's possible after being on death's door just ten days ago, then you loving Sir William is nothing to scoff at. Besides, Pauline told me he looks very tenderly at you whenever she's seen you together. Perhaps the fondness is mutual."
I drop herbs in the teapot and clear my mind of all but healing. Once I add the water, I turn toward Clair. "It will not change that he is a gentleman, and I am what I am."
Clair huffs out a breath. "You look fine enough to me, and lovely besides."
I bring the tea to the table with a cup and saucer, and sit. "William is a good man. I'll leave the rest to the fates to decide. I shall continue to be his friend."
While the tea steeps, Clair traces the grain of her little table. "Why do you think a man like Mr. Waller would make me a table?"
"I have only met the man once, when he brought his son to me with a slightly worrisome cut on his hand. It's a fine table, though. Sturdy and good looking, too. Perhaps he heard you were feeling better. I don't know. Did the two of you grow up together?" I pour the tea and slide it closer to her.
She takes a sip. "I married my Patrick when I was just fifteen. He was a fine man, but neither one of us knew anything about life. He kept food on the table and was kind. Died four winters past, and I miss him. Left me enough to live on, which is more than most women around here get. I'm lucky. When I got sick, I thought, well, at least I'll see my Patrick again. Mr. Waller, Ben is his given name, he was a good friend with my husband. His wife's been gone since their youngest was born nearly twenty years ago. Maybe he's lonely. I could do with some company, too. But perhaps we're both too old for all that nonsense."
The vision William had jumps into my mind. Had he done all of this, or had he only seen what was to be? "I think it would be nice for two people to find some company regardless of your ages. Who says having a companion is only for the young?"
While Clair mulls over a man and the table, I reach out with my magic and seek out the area that ailed her only days before. There is no illness that I can see. She's still thin, but that will take time. I've never seen anyone cured of an illness of this nature. Witches can often ease the pain, but to heal a killing cancer and not be harmed in the process is beyond anything I've ever known.
As I saunter back to the cottage, I worry over William. How was power like this suppressed in his family? How did he not know he was special? Was his father as powerful? So many questions and no answers.
I go directly to the stillroom to return the jars of herbs I carried to the village.
The day is warm, and Trina's voice spills out of the open door. "William, you are a wonder. Your hands are more than magic."
I stop. My heart says William wouldn't do anything ungentlemanly with Trina, but my stupid head knows he is a man, and Trina is a very pretty young woman. She's seven years younger than me, and at a prime for marriage, while I am an old maid by such standards.
Within, Simon hisses loudly and bolts from the stillroom.
"That beast got me again," Trina says harshly. She rushes out the door with her hands raised as if to cast, spots me, and freezes. Pointing to Simon meowing at my feet, she complains, "Your cat is a menace."
There’s a bloody streak across her hand.
