The Vanishing Viscount (Magic and Mystery Book 2), page 6
Pierce thought her mishaps were minor and few, but as he considered the time since she first appeared in London, he’d suffered the oddest run of bad luck on occasion and now wondered how many of those instances were because of her.
“Do you dislike me so much?”
Her eyes widened. “No. It is not like that at all. I thought you pleasant when we first met, especially considering that you were a friend of my brother. Then everything went wrong, and I have found no way to make it stop. I have tried, but it is beyond me.”
Maybe his mother would know, but given all that he had learned, he needed to avoid Lady Clara as she had been trying to evade him.
“Thank you for telling me,” he finally said. “You are correct. It is for the best if we avoid the other.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked away from her and returned to the house, leaving Clara standing in the wildflowers bathed in sunshine.
Her words had shaken him.
If she had a malicious soul, any manner of injury could have befallen him, but he’d only been minorly inconvenienced. Further, she did not wish for this to happen any more than he did, so why was it happening at all? Those were the answers he needed.
Chapter 10
True to his word, Harcourt did not come near Clara for the remainder of the day. In fact, if he wandered into a room where she was present, he turned on his heel and marched right back out.
At supper, he took a seat on the same side of the long table as she, but half a dozen guests separated them, which made it impossible for Clara to see him. She was also certain that had been his intention.
Harcourt either hated her, or feared her, or both.
Once dinner concluded, she had considered going straight to her chamber so as not to risk an encounter but decided to join the others for tea. Clara wanted to avoid him so that there were no mishaps, but she equally did not want to spend the next few days hiding in her chamber.
“My cousin is acting strange,” Chedworth whispered.
The two had taken a seat away from the others.
“I told him the truth,” Clara admitted.
“That you are in love with him.”
Clara glared at him. “You know that I am not. Further, do not even tease about such where anyone might hear. The last thing I want or need is for gossips speculating who I may love,” she said even quieter. “And how I was rejected.”
“I will speak no more of it.” Chedworth placed a hand over his heart. “What did you tell him?”
“How I was the cause of the misfortunate events that had plagued him in London.”
“I assume he did not take the news well.”
“I would not be surprised if he speaks to his mother about asking me to leave.”
“I am certain Pierce will not do so, but if he had, my aunt would have declined his request.”
Clara assumed as much but that didn’t mean she was any more comfortable being at Nightshade Manor when the heir wanted her gone.
Harcourt entered the formal parlor with the other gentlemen and Clara waited for him to see her and leave.
Harcourt greeted the guests and then noted Clara sitting with Chedworth.
“Sit,” his mother ordered. “Join us for tea. We have not seen much of you today.”
She could tell that he wished to argue, but instead, took a seat as he shot Clara a warning glance.
She had explained that everything that had happened to him had been unintentional. Did he think that it had all been on purpose and feared what would happen now? Or, did he just fear more unintentional mishaps would ruin his evening?
That was no reason to glare at her. She did nothing on purpose, though she could if she wished to, and it would serve him right if the tea did spill on him.
“I take it back. I take that thought back,” she whispered to herself.
“What did you say?” Chedworth asked.
Clara didn’t answer but watched in horror as his mother poured and handed a cup and saucer to Harcourt. As he grasped it, the cup jostled, then toppled over, spilling the contents onto his trousers.
“Oh, dear!” she muttered at the same time as his mother handed Harcourt a napkin to soak the liquid from his trousers.
Harcourt took it but glared at Clara the entire time.
He knew!
Clara set her cup and saucer on a side table. “If you will excuse me.” She left quickly, before Harcourt could come after and accuse her, and then rushed up the stairs. Her intention was to go to her chamber, but felt she owed him another apology. How many would she be forced to give before she could finally leave Nightshade Manor.
Another pair of trousers had likely been ruined because Lady Clara had a wayward thought. Or maybe this time it was intentional. She certainly left quickly enough.
After he dabbed the tea from his trousers, Pierce rose and excused himself so that he might change. What he had not expected to find was Lady Clara standing on the landing of the stairs leading to the next floor.
“I am so sorry,” she blurted out.
“You did this on purpose,” he accused.
“Yes, but no. I tried to take back my thought, but it did no good.”
“This is the very reason I have tried to avoid you.”
“If I could control everything, I would,” she argued.
“Yet you still had an unpleasant thought about me and now my trousers are ruined.”
“That is only because you have treated me as if I carried the plague since we spoke. I am not certain if you hate me or are afraid of me. Then when you glare….” She swiped away a tear.
Blast! He hated when women cried. “I do not hate you, Lady Clara,” he offered in a softer tone. “Nor am I afraid of you.”
“I understand your wish to stay away as I have tried to avoid you, but there is no need to glare at me.”
She was correct, and Pierce wasn’t even certain why he did. Except, at her confession, he felt as if he had lost something.
He understood that it was for his safety that she remain away, but it was also for her own. If anyone outside of the guests of Nightshade Manor discovered that she was a witch, it would not go well for her. And even if it wasn’t the authorities, nor any accusations made in Society, there were still witchfinders in England. His own cousin, Evander, had been killed four years ago, along with Evander’s wife who had been a witch. Nobody knew who the witchfinders were, but any magic exposed left a witch vulnerable. Which meant that Lady Clara’s magical mishaps were more a danger to her than him.
Did she even realize?
Of course, she did. She was not a fool and had voiced that fear.
Yet, despite the inconveniences that she had caused, Pierce still found her attractive, likeable, and if matters were different, he would wish to pursue her.
That is what had him aggravated. He’d even asked his mother why Lady Clara’s magic only misfired when it involved him, but she had no explanation. Though, a part of him thought she was feigning ignorance, but one did not want to accuse their mother of lying either.
“I apologize,” he said again. “Our conversation earlier was a surprise.”
“I am not an enemy, nor am I evil.”
“I never said that you were.”
At a sudden commotion in the entry hall, they both turned and looked down the set of stairs to see what was occurring.
In an instant, Miss Louise Baggan rushed into the entry hall, followed by Lady Ninianne Morvoren and Mr. Tristan Tawstock—guests who had arrived today. They came to a sudden halt and looked to what had them frightened.
“What is that?” Lady Clara whispered.
“I have no idea.”
“Where did it come from?”
“I do not know,” Harcourt answered.
A monster snapped jaws dripping in saliva at a footman. Pierce moved to put himself in front of Lady Clara in case it came after them.
"What did you do now?" Pierce demanded.
"I had nothing to do with whatever that is," Clara denied. “My mishaps are minor. That is not inconsequential.”
"Then what is it?" Pierce asked.
"I do not know but if there was a time to transport, this would be it."
"I should stay and assist!"
"Do not be ridiculous, unless you suddenly have magical abilities," Clara rebuked. "We should go."
“So long as you do not transport us down there,” Pierce grumbled.
“Take us some place safe.”
The next thing he knew they were standing in the orchard beneath an apple tree.
“What do you think that was?” Lady Clara asked.
Pierce blinked at her. “This might be the first time your magic worked properly when it involved me.”
Her mouth popped open. “I wonder why that was?”
“Maybe you weren’t nervous or feared discovery.”
“Not nervous, but terrified.”
As he had been, not that Pierce wished to admit as much.
“I should have helped.” Every instinct within his being had been to protect Lady Clara and the guests at Nightshade Manor, but he also had to accept that he did not possess the skills to do so. Still, it did not set well that he had run from danger, and it had been Lady Clara doing the saving.
“That was a magical danger, Lord Harcourt. Mounting any kind of defense might have seen you killed.”
She was correct, but he did not have to like that he’d been useless.
Pierce stared down at Lady Clara, his heart tightening as the urge to kiss her almost became overwhelming. He knew better than even to attempt to do so because who knew what could happen to his person, especially if she did not like his kiss or even welcomed it. Just because her magic had gone as planned once, did not mean that it would continue.
It was truly a shame because he had no doubt that it would likely be the sweetest of kisses, and her brother would likely kill him, which was another reason not to place his lips against hers.
“Shall we return to see if the monster has been taken care of?” He offered his arm.
“I am certain that it has, given the number of witches and warlocks within Nightshade Manor.”
His trousers may be ruined, but his life was intact, and maybe, just maybe, neither one of them need fear Lady Clara’s magic ever running amok again.
Chapter 11
Could she hope that she would no longer have mishaps?
Clara was almost afraid to find out. What if last evening had been an oddity?
Further, she still didn’t know where that beast had come from, but it had been dealt with and was gone by the time she and Lord Harcourt had returned inside.
Several of the guests were shaken, which she well understood, and though they played cards well into the evening, it was not the usual cheerful affair. In fact, it was quite sober.
She’d not seen Lord Harcourt again as he had gone above-stairs to play billiards with some of the other gentlemen, which was probably for the best as she still wasn’t certain if her magical mishaps were cured.
After she rose the next morning and partook of a light breakfast, she and Petra had walked the garden and grounds. There they encountered more of the guests who had recently arrived and Clara had been surprised by the number of gentlemen who asked her and Petra to save them a dance at the ball.
It was all rather odd because they had not shown her the least bit of attention in London. Then again, the gathering here was not nearly as large as a ball would be during the Season so they did not have as many choices in partners.
“I heard that they were not certain who were witches and who were not,” Petra said after two gentlemen continued on their way.
“How could they not know?” Clara asked. “Don’t we know all the families?”
“I thought we did, but there are some here that I had not known about and perhaps it is the same for others.”
“Then it is good that your parents are hosting this ball. Once we return to Society next spring, we will not need to avoid them.”
Petra turned to Clara, curiosity in her brown eyes. “Do you wish to be courted by one of the guests?”
Clara only wished to be courted by one person, but it could never be. Yet, the impossibility didn’t stop her heart from doing that little skip whenever Harcourt was near. It was quite difficult to consider courtship from another when her heart did that and butterflies flew about in her belly. Oh, how she wished that would go away as Harcourt’s heart would never do the same for her.
“Clara?” Petra questioned.
“I am not certain, but we are expected to marry one day and knowing who would accept a witch makes it far easier to decide, do you not think?”
“I will marry only for love and if he loves me, then he will not care that I am a witch,” Petra insisted.
“I thought you had decided not to wed.” Her friend had once claimed that she’d be a spinster.
“I will not wed for anything but love. That is the difference. Matches of families and power have no interest for me, but if love finds me, it shall be a different matter.”
Clara would like love to find her as well, but after four Seasons had decided that it was not likely to happen and she would need to decide if she wished to wed a pleasant gentleman who accepted her because it was expected, or become a spinster.
Though, if Harcourt showed an interest, she would consider him. It was likely love could grow, given she’d been infatuated with him since she had been fifteen. Except, he could never be hers even if it was something that he wished. Not with her unpredictable mishaps.
Mishaps!
“I have a favor to ask.”
“What do you need?”
“Can you take me to the vault?” She whispered the question.
Petra frowned, her eyebrows drawn down and creating a crease above her nose. “Why?”
“I glanced a journal in there earlier but did not have a chance to look at it.”
“There are several tomes.”
“This one was with an item. The Map of Mishaps.”
Petra’s eyes widened as she smiled. “And, since you suffer mishaps, you hope that this may offer answers.”
“Yes.”
Petra hurried ahead and entered the house through a back entrance and led Clara to the corridor with the stairs leading down to the level beneath Nightshade Manor.
“Oh, I need a light.” She almost turned around.
“I have one.” Clara snapped her fingers to produce flames.
“I did not know you could do that,” Petra replied with astonishment.
“It is not a skill that is needed very often. Besides, with my mishaps, I am also afraid that I might set something on fire, so I employ it only in the safest of environments.”
Once Petra opened the vault, Clara lit one of the lamps before snapping her fingers to extinguish that flame and went directly to where she’d seen the item, except now it was gone. There was a label on the shelf, but the rolled-up map and the journal were missing.
“It was here earlier,” she insisted.
“Who could have taken it?” Petra asked and did a slow turn. “Nothing else is missing. Just that.”
“Your mother, perhaps,” Clara suggested.
“She would not take anything from the vault. In fact, it is forbidden to remove anything from this room.”
A chill snaked down her spine. How could it have disappeared and why?
“I need to speak with Mother.”
Clara followed Petra once again, out of the vault and up the stairs until they found Lady Wharton in a back sitting room with Sir Walter Brightcombe.
Clara nearly stopped at the entry. Brightcombe was the most powerful wizard alive. Ancient and scholarly, and if Clara were to be honest, she suffered a mixture of awe and fear in his presence.
Lady Wharton looked up. “Is there anything amiss, Petra?”
Petra first glanced to Brightcombe and then her mother as if deciding if she should say anything.
“Sir Walter, please allow me to introduce my daughter, Petra, and her friend, Lady Clara Westcott.” Lady Wharton began to laugh. “Lady Clara accidentally sent my son, Pierce to the vault yesterday and when she couldn’t bring him back, went after him and they were both stuck until rescued.”
Clara wished the floor would swallow her whole. It was one thing that her friends knew that her magic had misfired, but it was humiliating that Brightcombe, the wisest wizard to live, now knew.
Petra glanced around in a panic. “We are not supposed to mention the vault,” she hissed quietly.
Again, Lady Wharton laughed. “Sir Walter is the foremost expert on magical antiquities, Petra. He is the only person not related to a Drakos who knew of its existence and has even visited it several times over the years.” She chuckled.
“It is because of the vault that I am here. Something has gone missing.”
Both Lady Wharton and Brightcombe stiffened.
“What?” the wizard demanded.
“The Map of Mishaps,” Petra answered.
To her answer, both Lady Wharton and Brightcombe relaxed as if it was of no consequence.
“Who could have taken it?” Petra asked.
“It is not a concern.”
Her friend looked to the wizard, who chuckled. “I have no need for such a map. On that you have my promise, nor would I remove any relic unless it was under the direst of circumstances, and that map would still be of no use.”
Clara frowned. If it was not so important, then why was it gone?
“You need not worry, Petra, but thank you for informing me.”
Petra gaped at her mother, surprised by such an unconcerned response.
“Now please, go along. Sir Walter and I do have a much more serious matter to discuss.”
Clara studied her friend as she frowned at her mother. “I apologize for the interruption,” then she turned and left the wizard and her mother to their conversation, closing the door behind them.
