Ember: A Fantasy Austen Retelling (Magical Regency Book 2), page 1
Copyright © 2020 by Jae Wiley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Shaela Odd @ Blue Water Books
Contents
Character List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Magical Regency Series
Sneak Peak: Intuition by Grace J. Croy
About the Author
To my parents: I still got the dishes done
Character List
Mage Woadley, of Hartfield in Highbury
Magess Emberlynn Woadley, his younger daughter
Mage Gideon Noughton, of Donwell Abbey in Highbury, the local magistrate
Mage Eoin Noughton, his younger brother
Magess Igrenne Noughton, married to Mage Eoin Noughton, Ember’s older sister
Mage Danbriar, of Highbury, friend to Mage Woadley
Magess Gwyneth Tannen Danbriar, formerly Ember’s governess, recently married to Mage Danbriar
Mage Alistair Chamless, Mage Danbriar’s son, raised by an aunt and uncle
Mr. Percival Wynton, vicar of Highbury
Mrs. Violetta Wynton, his bride
Mistress Elia Boadhan, local spinster
Miss Lyriel Feranore, her niece
Healer Gresham, local Healer, who runs a small medical relic school
Healer Wilimar Moriaen, new Healer, having recently completed his studies under Healer Gresham
Mistress Helene Safir, student in Healer Gresham’s school
Chapter One
Spring 1818 — Surrey, England
Magess Emberlynn Woadley basked in her triumph. Thanks to her magical ability to sense emotions, Highbury was celebrating a wedding. Her father’s long-time friend Mage Danbriar had married Ember’s beloved governess in a coup of the highest order, and Ember was determined to enjoy it.
She also wanted to enjoy one of the tiny almond crème cakes, but that would have to wait until her father was too distracted to notice.
With breakfast largely over, the happy couple was making their way through the throng of well-wishers, eager to speak with everyone. Ember watched their slow progression fondly.
“To think,” she announced to the table, which at the moment consisted of herself, her father, and her favorite antagonist, Mage Gideon Noughton. “If I had not sensed the beginnings of affection between them and encouraged them along, we would not have had a wedding today, and look how happy they are.”
Mage Noughton toyed idly with the cuff on his blue superfine coat sleeve. He looked quite dashing in his formal attire, the fabric stretched taut across his wide shoulders. He was more muscular than was fashionable, due partially to his tendency to work alongside his tenants during harvest. Disgraceful, and yet, somehow attractive.
“It was no more than a lucky guess,” he contended, in the patronizing tone that never failed to set Ember’s teeth on edge.
She should have known he’d say something like that. “A lucky guess is never merely luck. With my ability to sense strong emotions, it was obvious how I needed to proceed.”
“Heaven forbid they should make their own decisions,” he countered drily.
Around them the wedding guests mingled happily, chatting about everything from the music to the food to the weather. The overall happiness of everyone present would have been overwhelming, had Ember not been seated so close to Mage Noughton. His ability to nullify any magic within up to a twelve-foot radius--depending on how much effort he put into it--had saved her on many occasions when the emotions of those around her became too much. She’d never known him to not exude at least a small void, but he rarely used the full extent of his power. He had the greatest control over his magic she’d ever seen.
For now, though, Ember had better things to do than stare at him in gratitude. She had an argument to win. She pushed her shoulders back, concealing her glee beneath an arch look. Utterly nonchalant, she smoothed the skirts of her pale blue gown. “If they had been left to make their own decisions as you say, this wedding may not have taken place for months, perhaps ever. Sometimes people need a nudge. You will not convince me otherwise, Mage Noughton.”
Her favorite way to tease him was stressing the word ‘not’ in an obvious poke at his august surname. It always garnered a reaction. Today it was merely a slow shake of his head, an action that, had they been outside, would have sunlight showing off the chestnut highlights amid the darker strands. He turned to her father, who was wrapped in a lap rug despite the warmth of the room. He’d had bad dreams the night before, but insisted he could not miss the wedding.
“I can see why Mistress Tannen left,” Mage Noughton not-quite whispered. “If she’d stayed, Ember would have ended up running her life, not just orchestrating her marriage.”
Mage Woadley chuckled and patted his daughter’s hand. His white hair refused to lay flat on his round head, implying an air of confusion that couldn’t be further from the truth. His mind was as sharp as it had been back in his military days. “My Em was right about them, Noughton, you have to agree. We are at their wedding.”
He turned sparkling hazel eyes on his daughter. “My darling girl is brilliant and beautiful. I could not be prouder. Look at her—her competent air, her perfect figure and manner. She looks just like her mother, you know, with her height and golden hair.”
Ember took his hand, preening under his compliments, just a little. “My eyes are inarguably from you, though, Father.”
Mage Noughton carried on light-heartedly. “Ember is the loveliest girl in Highbury, I grant you.”
Her father took exception to that. “Highbury? All of England, I should say.”
Mage Noughton’s lips pursed. Vanity would declare that expression an agreement to her father’s declaration, but her vanity never survived long when Gideon Noughton was about.
Ember liked her vanity, and had no desire for it to high off to parts unknown, but there was no help for it. Mage Noughton was already speaking.
“Having been all over England in recent years, I can honestly say—” he paused for dramatic effect, his dark eyes sparkling when Ember strove to maintain a pleasant expression, “—I am happy to be home.”
Now Ember rolled her eyes at his non-answer.
“You’ve been back a year,” her father mused. “No plans to return to London?”
Mage Noughton shook his head. “I’m home now, and I’m staying.” He glanced at Ember, then away as someone on the other side of the room rhapsodized over the creme cakes.
Ember still wanted one of those. She looked in that direction, feeling a loosening in her chest that had nothing to do with food.
Eight years he’d been away, one for each year between their respective ages. He’d hardly come home at all except when estate matters required his presence, and he’d left a gaping black hole behind him. He and his brother, and Ember and her sister had played together by default, as there were no other children around. He and Ember, especially, had traipsed miles through the woods surrounding Highbury. No one else argued with her or challenged her as he did, and the wits she’d honed against him through the years had grown dull. Life just wasn’t as exciting when Mage Noughton wasn’t around.
In the year since he’d been home, things had almost, almost, gone back to how they used to be.
She hadn’t realized until this moment how afraid she was that he would leave again.
“I’m surprised the Home Office let you go,” Mage Woadley added.
Mage Noughton scoffed. “I gave them no choice. I hand-picked my replacement and spent the better part of two years grooming him.” He drew loose circles on the tabletop, his glove a bare whisper on the silk as his expression turned thoughtful. “For too many years I’ve neglected Donwell and Highbury. I want to be a better landowner and magistrate.”
Ember felt her lips curve. He tended to be too hard on himself. She couldn’t let that stand, as it often spilled over into being too hard on others. Specifically, her. “No one could find fault with your actions in the past year, and even before that, you’ve never been neglectful.”
Too efficient, though. He’d performed his duties with such alacrity that he had been gone almost before she knew he’d arrived.
When his younger brother had married her older sister, Ember had been certain he would be home more, but it had made no difference.
“It looks to be a fine harvest this year,” her father declared suddenly. “Are you going to help in the fields again?”
“Father, don’t encourage him!”
Mage Noughton only
“It’s not gentlemanlike,” she protested, knowing it was in vain.
The conversation quickly devolved into crops and yields and rain, and other minutiae Ember had no desire to discuss.
Things only became interesting again when her father mentioned Mage Chamless. It was not so much the name that garnered her attention—despite her ears being sensitive to any mention of it—as it was Mage Noughton’s reaction.
She was looking past him, not focused on anything in particular, and so noticed the barest tightening of his shoulders.
He took a drink of punch and set down the glass before he spoke. “I saw him during the ceremony. Danbriar must be thrilled that his son was able to make it to the wedding.”
Ember caught herself before she could frown. Mage Noughton’s tone sounded faintly disingenuous, though she’d no idea why. Mage Danbriar spoke of his son often; she couldn’t count the number of stories she’d heard of Mage Chamless’ cheerful, sometimes mischievous antics, or his charming turn of phrase, and felt she knew him already.
The letters were all Mage Danbriar had, as his son had not been in Highbury since he was barely more than a babe. His aunt and uncle had raised him upon his mother’s death, giving him their surname. They held onto him so tightly Ember sometimes wondered if marionette strings attached them.
Mage Danbriar strongly desired a match between his son and Ember. He and her father had been friends since their military days, and nothing would please him more than to have their children joined together. As a result, Ember and her father were always the first to share in Mage Chamless’ letters.
It was one of those letter-sharing afternoons, in fact, that Ember had noticed the first faint glow of attraction between the widowed Mage and Ember’s then-governess.
Ember shook herself and sat up straight. Before any attachment between herself and the elusive son was possible, they would have to actually meet. She thought she might have seen him during the ceremony, but not since, and she was disappointed.
Now that she thought about it, Mage Noughton had never met him either, so why would the mention of him seem distasteful when they knew nothing but good about him? She must be imagining things.
Ember forgot all about Mage Noughton’s odd behavior when the newlyweds approached. Ember rose and hugged the woman who had been more friend than governess in recent years.
“How happy I am for you,” Ember whispered, setting her at arm’s length. Her friend looked no different now that she was married, except her smile was wider, and her pale eyes fairly sparkled.
Magess Danbriar chucked her lightly on the chin. “Not a hair out of place, and your eyes bright. Exactly as I would expect.”
Mage Noughton was shaking Mage Danbriar’s hand. “My congratulations to you both.”
Mage Danbriar’s face was more ruddy than usual, and Ember would not have been surprised if his cheeks ached from the smile he’d worn since Mr. Wynton had pronounced him a husband. The ebullient man was speechless, a rare occurrence. He shook Mage Noughton’s hand heartily and kept sneaking glances at his bride.
In the next instant a smiling young man with unruly brown hair appeared next to Mage Danbriar, taking Ember’s hand and bowing over it. There was no question who he was, and Ember felt her own cheeks splitting with a wide smile.
At long last, she was meeting Mage Alistair Chamless.
Chapter Two
“Magess Woadley,” Mage Chamless interrupted his father with a mischievous grin, “It is my absolute pleasure to meet you.”
Ember’s skin tingled through her glove where he held her, and she watched him with speculative eyes. This was the man with whom she was expected to fall in love.
Ember would reserve judgment, but she strongly doubted that would be the outcome. Nevertheless, she was willing to see how everything played out. After all, who wouldn’t want a handsome gentleman to fall madly in love with her?
“Magess Woadley,” Mage Danbriar said, his self-effacing baritone taking on an air of reproach as he stared meaningfully at his son.
Mage Chamless was not at all downcast for jumping over propriety to introduce himself.
His father shook his head indulgently. “Allow me to introduce my son, Mage Alistair Chamless. He was fortunate enough to find his way here for the nuptials this morning.”
The new Magess Danbriar squeezed her husband’s arm, her green eyes alight. “It has made our happiness complete.”
“How fortunate you were able to get away.” Ember was curious as to how, considering his aunt’s infamously tight clutches.
His blue eyes twinkled as he leaned toward her. “I almost didn’t, but I am delighted I succeeded, if only because I am now able to make your acquaintance, Magess Woadley.”
From the corner of her eye, Ember noticed Mage Noughton standing stiffly, his lips pursed ever so slightly in disapproval. She wished he would relax; she tried to draw him out often enough. It was a continuing battle.
Mage Chamless regained her attention with a chuckle. “You see, the only way I could escape my aunt was by telling her I was visiting a sick friend in the country. A bit of a Banbury tale, I’m afraid, but I do hope you’ll forgive me. My aunt, I hope, will never find out. I could not miss my father’s wedding, and I could not”—his hand pressed hers, for he had not yet relinquished it—“wait any longer to meet you. I’ve been hearing of you my whole life.”
A sharp inhale behind her let her know Mage Noughton’s feelings on the admittedly forward conversation. Her cheeks heated from both his disapproval and Mage Chamless’ regard, and she reclaimed her hand slowly. “I hope you are not disappointed.”
Mage Chamless straightened. “Not in the least.”
Mage Noughton turned away abruptly. “If you will excuse me, I believe I see Mistress Boadhan over by the refreshments. I should go say hello.”
Ember stared after him. What in the world…? Did he disapprove of Mage Chamless so much?
With Mage Noughton’s departure the general cheer all around washed over her, along with a flood of even greater happiness. She steadied herself against the rush and dampened her senses. She glanced up to see Mage Chamless smiling…smirking? Ah, yes. His magical ability was infusing joy into those around him, making him very popular at any gathering. He must be pleased she finally felt the effects of it. Did he know it had been Mage Noughton’s ability that had blocked his magic?
Ember’s father spoke into the silence following Mage Noughton’s abrupt farewell. “I hope you aren’t serving cake at this wedding. It is far too rich.”
Ember turned away from the charismatic Mage Chamless to attend to her father, searching for signs of fatigue or strain, her worry countering Mage Chamless’ cheerfulness.
She didn’t like how her father was changing from the strong, capable man she’d always depended on, into someone who needed to be taken care of himself. “The cakes are very small, Father. I’m sure everyone will exercise great control and not overindulge.”
He waved off her hovering and stood, and she relaxed inwardly. He had plenty of energy today. “That is not the point. I’m going to speak with Mr. Wynton. He will agree with me, I’m sure. You stay and talk to Mistress Tannen. She will miss your company now that she is married.”
Ember’s smile warmed. “It is Magess Danbriar now, as you well know.”
He winked at her and wandered off, hailing Mr. Wynton.
Ember turned to her former governess, but covertly studied Mage Chamless. Privately she thought that even without his magical ability, his grin and cheer were infectious. “Well, Magess Danbriar,” she stressed the woman’s new name, “Is wedded life agreeing with you? Has your new title of Magess gone to your head?”
