Taming the Temptress, page 1
TAMING THE TEMPTRESS
THE WITCHES’ BALL
KATE PEARCE
CONTENTS
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
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CHAPTER 1
The invitation to the Witches’ Ball appeared on the side of Nant’s well, the edges curled from the dampness in the sea air. Her first instinct was to rip it to shreds, but there was also a message from her father, who, being a god, had to be obeyed or one suffered the consequences.
Nant sighed and heaved herself up to sit on the paved top of the well. She’d had a busy night tending to her underground streams and was in no mood to tolerate her father’s intrusion in her private affairs. His message was spelled out in smooth sea glass beside the invitation.
NANTO-SVELTA YOU WILL ATTEND THIS BALL.
With an impatient hand, Nant swept her fingers through the glass, scattering the pebbles into vegetation made sparse by the coastal weather. Within seconds, the pebbles leapt back into place beside the invitation, and there was a flash of lightning that left a trace of sulphur in the air. It appeared that Endellion was serious. She had to attend the blasted ball, even if she only stayed for a few moments. She’d seen what he could do to his disobedient children, and she had no wish to be punished.
She smoothed out the parchment to display the cream-colored invitation written in slightly blurred black ink.
You are hereby invited to attend a Witches’ Ball on October 31st at Nightshade Manor, Bocka Morrow, Cornwall.
Please RSVP to your hosts the Earl and Countess of Wharton.
Nant, had of course, heard whispers about the ball from her sister and the other deities and oddities who inhabited the coastal village of Bocka Morrow. From what her sister Malakia had told her, the earl and countess were attempting to persuade the notoriously insular magical community to go forth and multiply—or at least for the younger generation to make some attempt to find mates.
She hadn’t expected an invitation, because she considered herself more of a minor local deity. She could not do magic spells like a witch, and while she drew power from her spring and waterways, she rarely chose to use it, preferring a quieter existence where she cared for her waterways, answered the prayers of those who left her offerings, and occasionally made sure that two lovers found their way to each other.
The last time she’d displayed her power was when her sister Malakia’s suitor had carelessly dropped a coin down her well that had hit her on the head. He hadn’t been impressed by her annoyance until she’d provoked a veritable storm over him that shocked him to his core. She often reminded Malakia that if she hadn’t made Hezekiah aware of the magic around him then he wouldn’t have come to accept that Mally was the goddess of the bay and sometimes a mermaid.
“Drat.” Nant frowned. There was that word again. Magic. “I suppose I’ll have to go.”
She glanced up at the leaden sky where the sun had yet to appear and dived headfirst back into her well. It was a more direct route to the sea than walking or plummeting off the tall cliff, and she didn’t want to miss her morning swim with her sister. Even though she moved through the channels with great speed, she was still aware of every rock, barnacle, and grain of sand that encompassed her domain. The freshwater met the salt of the sea, and she pushed upward past the shimmer of her sister’s tail and surfaced beside her.
“Good morning,” Mally said. “I was beginning to wonder where you were.”
“I was delayed by a message from a god.” Nant removed a crab that was entangled in her sister’s golden hair and released it back into the water.
“Our father, or some other deity?” Mally asked as she effortlessly kept her balance in the choppy sea.
“Father. He’s insisting I attend the ball at Nightshade Manor.”
“I wonder why?”
“I assume he thinks I’ll meet a nice young man there.” Nant flicked water at her sister. “A magical one.”
Mally looked thoughtful. “If you choose correctly, it might enhance your own power. Have you considered that?”
“I am quite powerful enough, thank you very much. I’ve been alone since they built that storm drain up at the castle that destroyed my major tributary, and I very much prefer it.”
“Lerryn was always trying to expand his domain to overrun yours, so I’m not surprised you don’t miss him. You were very young at the time. But not all males are like that. Hezekiah is—”
Nant held up her finger. “Wonderful, perfect, and not magical in the slightest, which means he doesn’t compete with you.”
“It’s true that he doesn’t have a magical bone in his body, but while he doesn’t compete with me, he does complete me.” Mally’s smile softened and she looked toward the caves at the bottom of the cliff. “He waits for me to return to shore every morning to be certain I’m safe and well.”
“That’s only because he’s petrified of the sea,” Nant muttered. “He’s afraid he’ll have to come in and rescue you.”
Mally reached over and pinched her. “That’s not fair.”
Nant rubbed the spot and glared at her sister. “Fine, I apologize, then.”
“It’s not like you to capitulate so quickly. What do you want?”
Nant sighed. “Your advice about what to wear for the ball?” She smoothed the faded silk of her sopping-wet tunic. “I haven’t bothered with new clothes for years.”
Mally’s face lit up. “I’d be delighted to help you! Meet me at the inn at three this afternoon, and we’ll visit Mrs. Polkinhorne the dressmaker.”
Nant watched her sister swim back to shore where her husband awaited her with a large drying cloth and her clothing. Mally’s ability to change instantly from a sea dweller to a landlubber had always fascinated Nant, who had different abilities altogether. She and Mally didn’t have the same mother. Endellion wasn’t known for his fidelity; his love life was as erratic and unpredictable as the spring storms, and just as dangerous.
They had spent their early years together in the caves where the sea water met and mingled with the mouth of the river. It had been so long ago that neither she nor Mally could remember much about the women who’d cared for them, except that there had been more than one, and that they were kind.
Being immortal meant they’d only had each other while those around them grew old and died. After realizing the awful truth of their existence, they’d both been careful not to use their powers to encourage any human to fall in love with them. Mally was given a prophecy about her intended husband and had to wait centuries for him to appear. Nant had enjoyed a brief liaison with her tributary, Lerryn, but he proved untrustworthy, and she’d decided not to risk falling in love again.
The likelihood of meeting anyone who suited her was small to nonexistent, but she still had to go to the ball to appease her father. What kind of man would be happy dwelling beneath the earth surrounded by water and the lushness of sea? Not many. She ducked down and swam toward the entrance to her tributary. She would attend the ball in her new gown, and that would be the end of it.
Several hours later, as she endured the disapproval of Mistress Polkinhorne, Nant wasn’t quite so certain about her decision.
“You don’t understand,” Nant said. “I won’t wear a corset. They are too restrictive for my… daily activities.”
“Everyone needs a corset, dear. Your ball gown will not hang properly if you aren’t wearing one.” Mrs. Polkinhorne straightened and wrote something in her notebook. “I understand that you are one of our… more unusual residents, but one must maintain some standards.”
“You can wear a corset for a few hours, Nant,” Mally said from the comfort of her chair in the corner. “You can always take it off when you leave the ball.”
“I’ll have to,” Nant muttered. “If I can’t raise my arms above my shoulders, I can’t swim properly. And no whalebone in the corset, please. There must be something else you can use, or my father will never forgive me.”
“That is true. “Mally nodded. “I’ve found great success with narrow strips of steel or bamboo, ma’am.”
Mrs. Polkinhorne was beginning to look as if she wished she’d never agreed to provide Nant with a dress, and who could blame her?
“If you think it will be too much trouble, I can always borrow something from my sister, Mrs. Polkinhorne,” Nant said hopefully.
“No, you cannot.” Mally frowned at her. “I am twice the size of you, and you’d ruin my dresses with all that water.” She turned back to the dressmaker. “Please help her. She needs to look nice at the ball.”
“When is this ball, exactly?” Mrs. Polkinhorne asked. “You didn’t quite say.”
Nant looked at Mally, who shrugged. “I think it’s supposed to be a secret, but I believe it is tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Mrs. Polkinhorne might have screeched a little. “I cannot make something in that time.”
Nant stepped off the platform. “Well, that’s that, then. Thank you, mistress, and good day.”
“No, wait.” Mally grabbed her arm and turned to the dressmaker. “You must have something, ma’am?”
There was a discreet cough from behind the curtain at the rear of the shop. “Mrs. Polkinhorne?”
“What is it
A young woman with long auburn hair stepped around the curtain, her gaze firmly downward, her hands clasped in front of her. She wore an old-fashioned dress with wide skirts and had a knitted shawl around her shoulders.
“I would be more than willing to make a gown for this lady, ma’am.”
“You?” Mrs. Polkinhorne didn’t look impressed. “You’re my apprentice. I hardly think you have the skills necessary to—”
She stopped speaking, and Nant’s gaze went to the girl and then to Mally, who had gone still, an amused smile on her face.
Agatha looked at Nant. Her eyes were as green as glass and just as clear. “I will make your gown. It will be beautiful. If you don’t wish to return to the shop, I will leave it beside your well on the headland.”
“How do I know it will fit?” Nant asked.
“Oh, it will.” Agatha smiled at her. “I guarantee it.”
She turned to her employer, who appeared to have been frozen in place, and snapped her fingers.
“So, it is settled, ma’am. There is nothing for you to worry about.” She curtsied and withdrew, leaving her employer looking uncertainly at Nant.
“Thank you, Mistress Polkinhorne,” Mally said as they both curtsied. “You have been most helpful.”
“Yes, of course, good day to you both…”
Nant linked her arm through Mally’s and dragged her sister out of the shop.
“What on earth was that all about?”
“Didn’t you feel it?” Mally asked.
“The magic? Of course, I did. Although what kind of magic Agatha was using, I am not quite certain.”
“Did you see her ears?” Mally kept walking down Castle Street until they reached the harbor. The fishing boats were already in after their morning’s work, and the fishermen were busy gutting and preparing their catch on the quayside. “They were most definitely pointed. Perhaps she is related to the elves.”
“Which might explain her confidence that she can make me a nice dress.” Nant ducked to avoid a low-flying seagull attracted by the fish guts. “I do hope she meant what she said, or I’ll have to attend in this old thing.”
She glanced down at her tattered garment. She couldn’t remember when she’d acquired her current dress, which was ripped to shreds, covered in greenish slime, and adorned with various ribbons left as offerings that had pleased her.
“I’ll wager that Agatha, whoever she is, will make you something extraordinary,” Mally said. “I’ll meet you at your well and make sure the rest of you lives up to the gown.” She grinned at her sister. “I think you’ll have to reconcile yourself to a haircut, too.”
“No!” Nant glared at her sister. “You will not touch a hair on my head.”
Mally kissed her cheek and headed back toward the inn. “Don’t forget you’ll need gloves, petticoats, and shoes, Nant!”
“Why?” she shouted back at her sister as the gulls weaved and dived over her head. “And where on earth do you expect me to get such things one day before the ball?”
Mally didn’t reply, and Nant stared out at the sea, hoping it would calm her rattled nerves. Did she even own a pair of shoes? She might have once, when she’d danced with Lerryn, her treacherous tributary, ribbons in her hair and a besotted smile on her face…
“Mistress Nant?”
She turned to find Agatha, the dressmaker’s apprentice, behind her. She carried a large basket that she held up to Nant, and was breathing hard.
“I thought you might need these to… accentuate your gown.”
“Are you spying on me?” Nant demanded.
“Not at all! I just wanted to make sure that the dress I make for you is shown to its best advantage.”
Nant held the girl’s clear gaze. “Does Mrs. Polkinhorne know you are doing this?”
Agatha’s chin went up. “I haven’t taken anything from the shop, and it is hardly my fault if my employer doesn’t seem to remember you ordering a new gown.”
Nant stared at her, impressed by the girl’s quiet confidence and her refusal to back down. She took the basket.
“Thank you.”
Agatha bobbed a curtsy. “You are most welcome.”
After Agatha left, Nant uncovered the contents of the basket and set them on the harbor wall beside her. There was a pair of soft silver dancing slippers, stockings, and garters. Also, two petticoats made of the finest sheer muslin and the softest set of stays she had ever seen.
“Hmph.” Nant repacked the basket and considered her route home. “Now I’ll have to walk back up to the clifftop, or everything will be ruined in the water.”
Nant picked up the basket and set off. By the time she reached her underground home, she would need a nap that might stretch into the next day and bring the dreaded ball even closer. As she walked past the shops, she saw Agatha inside the dressmaker’s, listening attentively to whatever her employer was telling her. Even though Agatha made no effort to acknowledge Nant, she was certain she’d been seen.
She nodded at the various shopkeepers as she passed by, aware that some of them looked as if they were afraid of her, which was just as it should be, and others looked puzzled as to why she was out and about in broad daylight. She knew more about most of them than they realized, having been the receiver of the hopes and dreams cast into her stream for centuries. Endellion had given her the sacred spring and underground streams close to Bocka Morrow bay to care for when she was a child, and she had performed her duties with meticulous care ever since.
Some of the villagers owed their very existence to her ensuring their parents’ desires had been met and should be bowing in admiration. Nant caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the shop windows and paused. She looked like a drowned corpse that had been tossed around on the sea for days before finally being brought to shore. It wasn’t surprising that visitors to the town were giving her a wide berth.
She was breathing hard as she crested the top of the hill and stared out over the headland. When had she lost her joy, and simply become a means to an end? A deity who made others happy, but never found happiness of her own. She had Mally and her family in the sea, but was it enough? And since Mally’s marriage, her sister’s time had ceased to be her own.
Nant started walking again. Perhaps her father’s command to attend the ball was a sign that things had to change. She didn’t need to find a mate, but going to the ball might help her find herself, and at least make some new acquaintances. She glanced up at the clouds forming around the sun and quickened her pace. The basket would be safe concealed within the stone walls of her well, and Nant would be even safer in her lair below the surface. She couldn’t wait to feel the water against her skin. Existing in the outer world made her flesh crawl.
She set the basket in its hiding place, raised her arms above her head, and dived into the well, barely making a splash as she hit the water and disappeared into the depths. Tomorrow was another day, but for now she’d simply be herself.
CHAPTER 2
When Nant came out of her well the next evening, she was feeling refreshed but slightly nervous. The sight of her sister conversing with Agatha wasn’t reassuring, and her instincts told her to dive straight back in—except Mally knew she was there and had already turned to greet her.
“Good evening, Nant.”
Agatha curtsied. “Mistress Nant.”
Nant clambered fully out of the well and sat on the side, her arms crossed over her chest.
Her sister looked at her. “I see you are excited to attend your first ball in a hundred years or so.”
Nant glanced meaningfully at Agatha, but Mally smiled.
“She is of our world. There is no need to be careful.”
“I knew that.” Nant scowled.
Mally rose to her feet. “Then shall we begin? I’ve seen your dress, Nant. You are going to look beautiful.”
Nant allowed herself to be turned and twirled like a doll as she was stripped of her old clothes and into the new garments with surprising speed. She suspected Mally was moving fast because she didn’t want Nant to change her mind. It felt strange to have dry cloth against her skin and breathe through the restrictions of the light shift.
