by Ginny Lynn
Those lips felt the same as they had in my dreams, heavenly and sinful. He didn’t make any further advance but wasn’t moving away from me either. Was he waiting for me to kiss him back? My mind, and my libido, screamed at once but with different answers. Backing away slowly, I was sad I couldn’t ravage him here and now but that was not going to happen. I was wide awake and this man was very real.
Instead of going back behind the desk to hide, I forced myself to sit in the high back chair opposite his, far enough away to make me feel better. Settling in with my legs to my chin, I tried to hide the blush creeping up my neck. Hopefully, it was dark enough to keep it hidden from him.
“Now, what about this ghost story you’re avoiding?”
“Go ahead and change the subject. That’s fine, even if it doesn’t have anything to do with the deal we just made. And I’m not avoiding it, I just think our evening could be more fun if we didn’t waste it on silly tales from eons ago.”
Knowing I was too chicken to take his bait, I kept to my course. “Tell the story and I’ll decide whether it’s a waste of breath or not.” I smiled to see if it helped because I really did want to hear what he’d been told. Maybe it was his reaction to my mentioning her that had my radar picking up his need to drop the subject but something metaphysical was going on here.
“Fine. Geez. A long time ago, a family lived in an estate near here and they did the same type of business as Mr. Fenmore. That’s why I was told the tale of the Witch’s Love Diary.”
He paused and I waved him onward. He gave me an exasperated look but continued.
“The daughter of the house was being educated by a nanny half of the day and she worked on the property the other half of it. They had a greenhouse full of herbs and plants specifically grown for the holistic community. Grapes were grown for a local winery and marketers would come to the property to purchase items for themselves or to sell at the market. The daughter was a wonder at the holistic items and kept a log of what she grew and how to maximize the growth as she received a profit when the seasons were plentiful. Her mother had passed away when she was small so she took great comfort in doing what her mother had loved and her father had been glad to have her out from under his feet when he was selling the items off.
The abnormal thing about this was her interest in the plants being more than just for profit as she was rumored to be making potions out of them. Girls in the area whispered the young lady had fallen for one of the farmers and was attempting to make a potion so he would fall in love with her and take her away from the town. People said she started using her ledger book as a spell book and then when she ran out of room, she bought a leather-bound diary to keep her information hidden in. Supposedly, she used the profit money to buy the book as her father believed it was better to use it on new clothing or shoes. But they say that wasn’t her interest and buying it would annoy her father, so she purchased it. It was to be her first step in being her own person, which was not what her father had planned for her.”
“Sounds fascinating. Do you know if she ever got the man of her dreams?”
“Funny you worded it that way.”
“Why?” I asked.
“The tale goes that she did finish the love spell and had let a few girls try it out before she attempted to use it on her intended. They stated the girls were successful in obtaining the loves of their chosen men, so she took the final step to use it on her unsuspecting farmer. She set out to seduce him one night, and if he didn’t fall into her arms, she would make sure the spell took care of the rest. Her pride had her trying the seduction first, thinking it was going to go perfectly either way. She had no idea it would end up so badly.”
“Oh no, he turned her down? Or did the potion not work on him?”
“You have this figured out, don’t you? I don’t even need to tell you the rest.”
“No, tell me the rest!” I appealed while I sat on the edge of my chair.
“She did get him to come to the greenhouse one night, as she had told him the plants were the beginnings of her next batch to sell. They say he was half into the seduction when she dropped the vial of potion onto the ground while fumbling with her clothes. He saw it and became so appalled at her that he called her a witch and told her he’d never marry a woman who would use the earth to manipulate people. She was outraged and said his fate would be sealed with hers and began to laugh at him for thinking he was strong enough to evade her wishes. He somehow got the courage to leave the greenhouse, after smashing her glass vial into the greenhouse floor, and ran away into the rainy night.”
“He’s lucky she didn’t douse him with it.” I slid back into my seat.
“Well, that’s not the end of the tale,” he baited.
He paused so I waited for him to finish the story. He drank down his glass of wine and looked back at me with a mischievous grin.
“He was said to be found the very next morning, lying in the cemetery, with a raging fever while experiencing bouts of delirium. The town folk thought he got a chill from the cold and rainy night. After a long month of being sickly, he got an unsuspected visitor. The witch was back and she said to him that she had cursed him for his follies. If she couldn’t have his love then he couldn’t have any real love of his own. He was doomed to never know true love anywhere other than his dreams, where he would burn in a never-ending fever. She would burn for him the rest of her days and he would pay the same price.”
“Holy crap!”
“There was nothing holy about it. He was cursed and then shunned, even when the young lady disappeared from the town. She never returned and they wonder if she took his soul with her into the night.”
Thunder roared and I squealed.
A gust of laughter came out of him at my shock. “It’s just a story, Renata.”
The look in his eyes didn’t match the mockery on his face. Her story had scared him, even if from a time long ago. Some things could haunt you for a lifetime, real or imaginary, and this was one of those things.
“Now, I think we should retire for the evening,” he said as he stood to stretch slowly. The black cotton came up to show me a glimpse of defined stomach that was a dream to touch. I wanted to run my fingernails over it to see if it was indeed the same pleasure. Somehow, I knew it would be even better but I wasn’t about to assault him to find out.
Picking up my candlestick and my glass, I headed back to my room with Kenrick trailing behind me. As I stopped in front of my closed door, I turned to see if he would walk on to his own space. Surprised at how close he stood to me, I reached for the doorknob behind my rod-straight back, but the glass clanked against the hard wood. He had a Mona Lisa smile on his face as he leaned down to me. Inching away, my back met the stained wood as I held my breath. Just a trace of cool air was between us as he hung above my waiting lips. Then just as quickly, he kissed me with enough pressure to almost bang my head but was gone by the time it made contact.
Dazedly going into my room, I went to sit on my bed, forgetting not only did I not put the candle and glass down but I still had a pile of clothes waiting to be put up. Laughing at myself, I set about handling all of this so I could crawl into bed and relax. If I was lucky, the storm wouldn’t keep me up and I’d sleep a little later in the morning. But we know my luck wasn’t the best so I’d be happy with getting a decent six hours before I had to go make myself some strong coffee. I knew my visions had me a bit more mentally worn but I was in good enough shape to get through it while not letting myself think over anything else today. My mind needed a break and I was going to meditate until I could shut everything down.
The beat of the weather outside seemed to be at a slower pace so we were out of any trouble. The tempo was mellow compared to the raging measure of earlier. Soothing me in its tapping against the windows, I got into my nightshirt before I slipped under the cool covers of my bed. The only other thought I allowed myself was that I expected to see Mr. White tomorrow. Sighing, I wrapped my mind in a blanket of silken pr
otection as I welcomed the dark to pull me under its refreshing spell. This was one of the only true friends I had and her name was Oblivion. Like most friends, she could be fickle and tonight had become one of those nights.
Having to keep your mind a blank slate while tossing and turning is a tough job but I’d accomplished it before. Finally finding a more comfortable position, my mind wandered to small scenes from today and I knew I should stop the mental barrage. All of the pictures flashed before me like an amateur slideshow as my mind absorbed so many small details. Until one of the pictures stopped and it was of me looking out at the greenhouse. Looking down, I saw my legs below me and not the white dress of Aster, so that meant I had begun to fall asleep and this wasn’t going to be too awful.
There was a pull of energy coming from the greenhouse, so I let it take me to where I was meant to be in this little scene. The back of a young lady stood in front of me and she was busy attending to a row of plants. Her long chestnut hair had been woven in a tight braid going down her graceful back. Tiptoeing closer, I waited for her to turn to me. Was I in a vision of her previous life or was my sleeping mind trying to work through the story Kenrick had told me? There seemed to be only one way to find out and even that wasn’t cut and dry.
Peering around her, I saw she was using a pair of old sheers to cut leaves off of several small plants in front of her. They were all in a neat row and isolated from the others as if they were a new project or being safeguarded for some reason. Wondering if these were the ones from the tale, I looked over her other shoulder to see the leather-bound book from the attic. She had it open toward the middle as she had surpassed it being a simple diary and was using it to make spell notations. There were diagrams of plant leaves and measurements below them. Above the sketches was one simple French word, Aimer, which meant love. This had to be her recipe for the love potion.
She was singing songs in French as she clipped the items on her list and set them in different places on a large handmade ceramic platter. Then she started talking to herself.
“Oh sweet love, you think you can pass me by. You are such a silly man. Those strong arms are meant to be around me and only me. As you don’t have a current lover, this is the perfect time to make you see me as you should. If this batch works, then we’ll both be happy and in love.”
She went back to her French lyrics of passion and undying love and somehow I could understand them. I’d taken the basics of French in high school but it was as if I had internal subtitles in my head as to what she sang. It was creepy and yet poignant.
Then a voice began calling Aster’s name. It had to be her father wondering where she was. She returned his call, stating she would be there in a moment. She hurriedly covered the platter with a linen cloth and slipped the scissors into the pocket of the white apron she wore over her simple dress. The platter was slipped under the tray of plants and then covered by a piece of burlap as to hide it from any quick once over by anyone who came in. Dusting her hands off on her apron, she took a look over her shoulder and walked through me as if I wasn’t even there and went out of the greenhouse humming her French song.
The problem was she had left her book on the shelf with her plants and it seemed odd to me. Why would she hide the plants but not her book? Looking closely at the book, I made out more of the recipe she had written down. The plants were exotic and must be why she had just a handful of stems coming from the new buds. They weren’t labeled so she had to have them memorized but the drawings helped me to pick out what each one was. The potion had to be set aside for two nights, in a dark place, as it became more potent. It had a short lifespan so it had to be ingested by the fourth night after being mixed. That meant she intended to use it this week on her crush. Then I heard footsteps and fought the need to hide. It was a dream so no one would see me here anyway.
As I went to turn toward the door, Aster came running in, breezing through me again. It gave me a chill at the feeling of her slipping into me like I was fog. She had a smile as she got to the book and closed it. There was a shelf way above her tray of plants and she hefted the leather up onto it, pushing it back out of view as she hopped up a few times. It was properly hidden now and she giggled in satisfaction at her plan, bringing glee to her actions. Her confidence was a glow about her as she knew she would have her man before the next harvest. The seduction was planned and she’d be able to take her love from here as they started a new life in a different town, away from the father that thought he knew the best for her. She wouldn’t marry the neighbor her father had mentioned and she wasn’t going to stay here and be made to tend two farms for the rest of her life. She wanted passion, her potions, and to travel the world as she found a home where she could raise babies along with her power as a witch.
She turned on her toes and looked through me as if I was glass. But then her eyes narrowed and she smiled so brightly it was alarming. I turned to see who stood behind me but no one was standing there. Gazing back at her, she had stepped closer to me. I backed up a step and she laughed. Holy shit, she was looking at me. She nodded and pointed at the book that was out of sight then pointed back at me.
“What?” I asked her.
She laughed again and this time it held a frigid edge to it. It ran along my body as if charged with electricity. Aster took a step closer and I found myself unable to move away from her. Her pale arm reached out and she let her fingertips glance over my neck and down to where my heart pounded against my sleeping chest. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t even here. I was in bed letting my mind wander over the ghost story that had wrapped around me before I had meditated. I should have blanked my mind out better as this might not have happened if I had.
“You simple woman, you think I didn’t know you were here? I left the book for you to look over. How far did you get, my dear?”
“I saw the potion but nothing more,” I replied, terrified this was turning into such a nightmare. One that I wasn’t successful in waking myself from.
Her palm lay flat against my breastbone and a tingle ran into it as she closed her eyes and hummed. My breath was stolen from me as the tingle became so strong that a buzz rang in my ears. She pushed her nails into my thin skin, and I bit back a yelp as a burn set into my lungs.
“Such a strong woman. I have made an excellent choice. Not only are you beautiful but gifted as well. You’re not as powerful as I had hoped but with my gifts, you can be a woman to change time itself. I can feel it in your heart. You have learned to fight for your beliefs and where you belong. Maybe I should stay here and not run off after the ceremony. Your fresh mind has given me possibilities not available to me one hundred years ago. This is an intriguing turn of events.”
Wheezing out the words, I asked, “What are you talking about?”
Her laugh went from her chest and into mine like a turning of a knife. “You and I are about to be as close as twin sisters, my dear. Just you wait and see.” And with that, her nails went into the layers of my muscle and dug in between my ribs. It was as if her nails were sizzling while they punctured my lungs and tickled at my vulnerable heart. Pain so sharp it cut every nerve in my body and had me feeling as if I was a marionette whose master had cut her strings to fall apart on the stage floor. I screamed and oblivion of an evil nature took me in its arms and cradled me as I gasped my last sleeping breath.
Chapter Twelve
The stroke of a match caught my attention in the dark of my room. I opened my eyes to see the silhouette of the person holding the relit candle. It was Kenrick and he had knocked me out of the nightmare that had me in its clutches. Taking a few steadying breaths, I watched as he set the candle holder on the table at my bedside and bent over me.
“Are you all right, Renata?”
“Yes, did I wake you?”
I felt uncomfortable about him being in my room but if he hadn’t shown up there was no telling how bad the dream would have gotten.
“No, I had planned on staying up to listen to the weather reports
and heard you down the hall,” he answered as he sat on the foot of the bed at my feet.
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” I said in a light voice.
“It’s not a problem. I thought I heard something and came down to you shaking the bed frame. Was it that bad of a dream?”
“It was getting there quickly and I’m embarrassed you heard me.”
“You weren’t making sex noises, so it’s no big deal.”
“Oh God!” I moaned as I hid my face in one of the pillows.
“Well, now you did.” He burst out laughing.
Just great. I wake up from a nightmare to have a sexy man laughing at me in my own bedroom. This was just great for my self-confidence.
“You can go back to your room now. I can’t have you being a bear tomorrow on my account,” I said in a slightly dismissive tone.
“If I’m grumpy then it’ll be my own fault and not yours. I’m the one too paranoid to sleep and you’re the one trying to catch up on some, so it would seem.”
“You don’t even know me and you can instantly grasp that I’m tired?”
This just kept getting better and better.
“You’ve taken a few naps while you’ve been here and from what I’ve learned of your life, it was too busy to be spent catnapping. Am I right?”
“Yes, you are, but you aren’t supposed to know me so well. We weren’t even really on speaking terms until the truce, so neither one of us had really had the time to share any sordid stories.”
“Mrs. Fenmore would talk about you after getting one of the letters you sent from college. She would share a few memories with me after reading each one of them.
She missed you but was so proud that you were doing what made you happy.”
“She’s the one who convinced me to go in the first place.”
“You had her adoration, and I was envious of you.”
“I’m sure you had loved ones. Who doesn’t?”
“I was tossed out at a very young age for being a rebel and then got lucky enough to find a man who let me take care of his property. Other than that, I’ve had no long-term girlfriends or drinking buddies.”