Page 57 of Magic Touch
When I return to the front room, I sit across from Esme. "Good morning."
"You went for a swim?" Esme slides the jam across the table as Henry brings me toast.
"I thought to bathe as I couldn't sleep." I spread butter and jam on my toast. Is she jealous? It's possible that Trina made more of a fuss while I was dressing. There's nothing I can do about it, so I meet her gaze and eat my toast.
Prudence arrives and gives each of us a long look before she sits and pours herself some tea. "How are you both this morning?"
"Fine," we say in unison.
Esme pushes her plate away. "I'm going to the stillroom to collect what I need for Mrs. Kyle."
Once she has left, I pray for courage. How am I going to get through the next few weeks with these women?
Outside, Simon chases a butterfly around the grass before running toward the back of the house, where he will likely join Esme.
"Esme's mother was very young when she fell in love." Prudence watches me over her teacup.
"Is that so?" I don't know what else to say, but her pause made me think I needed to comment.
She nods. "She was lucky to find love. It was good and true, the love that Louisa and Connor shared. They were happy."
"It seems they might have been spared such heartbreak. They could have loved for a hundred years. Fate was cruel to take them so young and leave their daughter alone." I don't know why I've said any of this. Only that it's true and poor Esme aches for what she's lost.
Putting down her tea, Prudence folds her hands on the table. "Life is not always fair, as you well know, William. Goddess granted them a great love, and they were happy. The fact that they died before their time doesn't make that love less important."
"Wouldn't they have been more content without all the pain of love and loss? Louisa gave up her family and her coven, and Connor died after such a short marriage." The pain of losing him must have been devastating. It's no wonder Louisa became ill so she could join him.
Prudence's smile is sad. "Perhaps they would have lived uninteresting and contented lives had they never met. They might have even lived a hundred years or more. He died because he wanted to provide more for his family than witchcraft could give them. She died because she wouldn't seek the help that might have saved her."
"Then you agree with me?"
"No." She laughs. "I would give back many years to have a love like those two shared. I would leave my sister witches and howl at the moon if need be. There would be no sacrifice I wouldn't make for a love like that."
"I had no idea you were such a romantic, Great Mother." I finish my toast.
"Love is magic, William. You would do well to remember that. You have studies. Have you not?" She returns her attention to her tea.
Clearly dismissed, I rise and bow before heading to the stillroom.
Esme is rattling jars and shoving them violently into a bag when I enter. Without looking up, she asks, "Did you bed Trina?"
My morning and night have been complete bollocks, and without sleep, my temper is not under control. "Am I compelled to answer that despite how offensive the question is?"
She snaps her head up and glares at me. "You are not required to tell me anything. We are nothing to each other."
With two strides, I close the distance and press her into the corner of the tiny room. "Please don't do this. I have not the patience for this today. I have no interest in that girl, and I'm fairly sure I've told you that before. If you are jealous, for that I am sorry, but I have given you no cause to be."
"Jealous?" Swallowing, she looks at my lips and then at my eyes. "I'm not jealous. It is merely that such a tryst might slow our progress with your training."
"Liar." I pull back. It's not reasonable, but her lie hurts. Until now, we've been refreshingly honest with each other. Now that is changed.
Taking the bag, she squeezes around me and storms out.
Was that our first lover's spat? It's stupid that I'm grinning, but there it is. Instead of waiting for Trina or working in the stillroom myself, I go inside the cottage, go to my room, and pull out my ancestor’s journal and grimoire.
After luncheon, I return to my room and the books. Some of the journal passages are hard to read as they speak of things I don't quite understand. Still, there is much about friends being killed, and fears that witch hunters would come for them one night.
I hear Esme in my head before she knocks.
