by Sharon Booth
'Maybe you should give it another go,' Easton suggested helpfully. 'Next time you might hit the jackpot.'
'Aither is the jackpot!' Aurora burst out. 'He's the most perfect baby ever, and I wouldn't swap him for the most powerful witch in the land.'
'All right, all right, keep your hair on.' Easton sighed and shovelled chicken in his mouth. 'Are you sure I can't have any wine?' he asked, his cheeks bulging with food.
Mother winced but shook her head. 'I don't think so, dear. You're underage.'
'Teenagers drink it in France all the time,' he grumbled. 'It's practically compulsory.'
'Unfortunately for you, we're not in France,' Elvira pointed out. 'Shut up moaning and eat your dinner.'
'The thing you have to realise about Dad,' Easton continued, as if the discussion about wine had never happened, 'is he's been bitterly disappointed by all his male offspring. Think about it. Aurora and Elvira are both gifted primary witches, but then I came along. Son and heir and all that. Unfortunately for him, I'm just a secondary witch. I can do magic, but only with the use of tools and herbs and spells. Dad must have been gutted. Then he finds out his stepson has no magic at all, which is embarrassing for the head of the High Council of Witches. Now his first grandchild — another boy — has no magic either. It's like he's cursed, isn't it?'
From the conversation I'd heard, it certainly seemed to me that Zephyr looked at it that way. But how had I even heard that conversation? What was happening to me?
I smiled gently at Easton. 'You shouldn't feel bad about being a secondary witch,' I said, feeling sorry for him. Behind his casual attitude, I could sense it hurt him.
'Hell's bells, don't worry about that. I don't feel bad at all,' he said, with rather too much emphasis on the denial. 'I'll inherit The Frying Pan, for God's sake. What use will magic be to me running a chippy? Not like I can't whip up a good batter already without casting a spell, so I don't see why it matters so much to him. I guess it's Mother. She'll be ashamed of me, and of Aither, no doubt. Takes these things personally, you know.'
'Yes,' Benedict mumbled. 'I know.'
Star put down her fork and threw her arms around him. 'You're worth ten of Titania or Susie or whatever she's calling herself these days.'
He laughed. 'Okay, okay. I wasn't fishing for compliments, you know. But thanks.'
'Even so,' Easton continued, 'it's weird Aither hasn't got magic, isn't it? I mean, he's the offspring of both an Ambrose and a St Clair. They're such powerful and ancient lines it was almost inevitable he'd be a great witch. It's really put the cat among the pigeons, hasn't it?'
Blaise paused, fork in hand. 'I love that saying. Cat among the pigeons. '
'Do you know what it means?' Easton asked curiously. 'Caused a hoo-hah, a ruckus. A real to-do.' He grinned. 'Fucked everything up.'
'Easton!' Elvira snapped.
'Well, really,' Mother said. 'Is there any need?'
'Steady on, fella,' Benedict said coolly. 'Time and place.'
Blaise burst out laughing.
We all turned to stare at him, and my surprise turned to delight as I realised it was the first time I'd ever heard him laugh. Oh boy, it was a lovely sound. I laughed, too, not caring that Mother was looking most disapproving and Castor clearly thought we'd both gone mad.
'I'm sorry,' Blaise managed at last. 'Your faces!'
'You shouldn't encourage Easton in his foul language,' Mother reproached him. 'It's not funny. He's still at school!'
Blaise laughed again.
'I don't suppose that word was used in quite the same way back in your day, was it, mate?' Easton asked cheerfully. 'Reckon you were all gadzooks and stuff back then.'
'The word existed,' Blaise admitted, 'though you're right. We didn't use it as a curse word. We used it — er — differently. It seems funny to me to hear it used the way you use it. Especially given what you said earlier. Now that was offensive, yet none of you seemed to care at all.'
We all looked at each other.
'What did I say?' Easton asked, baffled.
'I'm not repeating blasphemy, young man,' Blaise said, sticking a fork in a chunk of chicken breast. 'Suffice it to say, my father would have given you a clip around the ear if not a lot more. I think that's enough talk on that subject.'
'I quite agree,' Mother said. 'It's most inappropriate talk for the dinner table.'
'It must have been cool in the seventeenth century,' Easton mused, watching Blaise thoughtfully. 'We did a bit about the Civil War at school. Cavaliers and Roundheads and old warty-face, Oliver Cromwell. He was a miserable git, wasn't he?'
'What a way to put it,' Mother said, tutting.
'Whereas Charles the Second was a very different sort. Nell Gwynne and all that stuff.' Elvira grinned. 'Oranges for the king, eh? He was a bit of a lad, wasn't he? All those mistresses and illegitimate children.'
I glanced over at Blaise. His lips had tightened, and he was no longer laughing.
'Maybe we should change the subject,' I suggested.
He gave me a brief smile. 'I think we should. Our king shouldn't be the source of amusement and mockery. Yes, he had his – dalliances – but he was also keen to encourage the arts and science. Perhaps, if you'd lived under Cromwell's rule, you'd appreciate our king a lot more and feel less inclined to make fun of him.'
'Very true,' Sirius acknowledged. 'My apologies, Blaise.'
'Also,' Blaise admitted uncomfortably, 'I don't think we should talk about his private life in front of you ladies.'
Star and Sky burst out laughing, but I could see Blaise meant it. He looked distinctly uncomfortable.
'I know things have changed,' he mumbled. 'And I quite see the other men in this room feel no discomfort discussing these matters so openly, but I find it difficult. I know I'm the one who must get used to it. This is your time, and I have to learn to fit in. But can we please leave it for now?'
'We can,' I said quickly. 'Honestly, I understand. We all do, don't we?'
There was a general sympathetic murmuring and nodding of heads, and Benedict said, 'Sorry, Blaise. We should have thought. My apologies.'
'No apology necessary,' Blaise assured him. 'As I said, it's up to me to fit in now. It just takes a bit of getting used to, you know?'
'Proper gentleman, aren't you?' Castor said. 'Such an example to us all.'
I glared at him, recognising the sarcasm in his tone. He was getting on my nerves.
'Yes, he is,' I said. 'Maybe some of us in this room should take note.'
We all resumed eating as an uneasy silence fell on the room. I was still cross with Castor. Fancy being so sarky when he must know how much Blaise was struggling, even though he'd seemed to adapt so well lately. His whole mindset was different to ours. We were asking a lot of him, I realised, and perhaps we ought to slow things down. Poor Blaise. I wished I could go over to him and give him a great big hug, but I had a feeling that would only alarm him. He wasn't one for public displays of affection. Something else that seemed alien to him.
Just as the silence became unbearable, Sky burst out, 'Ooh, you'll never guess what's happened!'
We all acted as if we couldn't wait to find out, and I realised everyone was relieved to have something else to talk about.
'You know Jethro's signed with that big American publisher?'
We exchanged amused glances.
'Hmm,' Mother said. 'I seem to recall you mentioning it once or twice.'
'Well,' she said eagerly, 'he's got this big-shot editor, haven't you, Jethro?'
Jethro looked rather uncomfortable.
'That's nice,' Mother said.
'She's got some big ideas for the book,' Sky said. 'She and Jethro have been Skyping each other and they've thought up some brilliant twists, haven't you, Jethro?'
Jethro chased a bit of pasta around his plate and looked as if he would give anything for Sky not to have opened her mouth. 'Oh,' he said at last, 'it's nothing much, really.'
'Yes, it is!' Sky corrected him
. 'You said they were massive plot twists!'
'They're not massive,' Jethro assured us.
'Don't be silly. They must be if she's coming all the way here to work on them with you.' Sky turned to us, her eyes shining. 'We had an email — I mean, Jethro had an email — from her. She's so excited about your book, isn't she, Jethro?'
'If you say "Jethro" one more time, I think I'll turn you into a worm,' Star said crossly.
'Well! Is there any need?' Sky glared at her. 'It's not my fault a top American editor thinks he's the bee's knees.'
'Bee's knees?' Blaise's mouth twitched with amusement and I was relieved to see his good humour had returned.
'It sort of means the best. The top. Which Jethro is. Did you know he's a writer, Blaise?'
'I think you told me, yes,' he said, his eyes sparkling with laughter. 'You must be very proud of him.'
'Oh, I am.'
'Did you say she's coming over?' Mother asked, frowning. 'Surely she's not flying all the way to England just to work on some book?'
'It's not some book,' Sky protested. 'It's Jethro's book! The next JJ Richmond blockbuster.'
'Even so,' Sirius said, 'that's quite a big commitment.'
Sky gave him a withering look. 'He's JJ Richmond,' she emphasised. 'What is it you aren't getting?'
'Silly me,' Sirius said, grinning.
'It's not as big a deal as it sounds,' Jethro said, ever modest. 'The fact is, she was coming to England, anyway. She's planning on spending the whole of March here. She's got holiday owing from work and wants to explore Yorkshire. Apparently, she has roots in the county, so she thought while she was here, she might as well kill two birds with one stone.'
'Good idea,' Star said. 'Take a holiday and put it on expenses.'
Blaise sighed. 'I know I have a translation spell on me,' he said, 'but it's still awfully hard work keeping up with some of your sayings.'
'Sorry,' Star said. 'Must be difficult for you.'
'I'll get used to it,' he assured her. 'I just have trouble following conversations when you all talk quickly, that's all.'
'The gist of it is,' Sirius said, 'Jethro is a very important person as far as his publisher is concerned — and rightly so, obviously. Congratulations, Jethro.'
Jethro's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Sky looked like the cat who'd got the cream. Anyone would think she was the one writing the book. She seemed more excited than Jethro.
I watched him curiously. It was odd, but I thought I detected something in his expression that shouldn't be there. Was I wrong, or was that a trace of ... guilt? Surely not? Not Jethro. I must be wrong about that.
I'd have to watch myself, I thought. As if hearing conversations from other people's pasts in my head wasn't bad enough, it seemed I was also becoming paranoid. Brilliant.
Chapter Thirteen
'Are you going to Sky's tonight to meet the editor?' I asked Star, as we pulled into the castle car park. It was March 1st — St David's Day and, appropriately, the daffodils were in full bloom in the castle grounds. The skies were blue and there was no hint of rain in the wispy white clouds, which made a pleasant change. The latter half of February had been awful, with howling winds and endless downpours. Blaise had barely ventured out of the house, except to have an MMR vaccination. He'd spent most of his time reading and impressing us all with the knowledge he'd absorbed like a sponge.
Even Benedict, who was academic himself, was impressed by how much he'd learned.
'It's not just that he remembers facts,' he told Star and me one evening, when I'd popped round to Lily Cottage, 'it's that he questions what he's told. He has brilliant critical thinking skills and an endless curiosity. And his grasp of information is amazing. If he'd been born and educated in the twenty-first century, he'd probably have a PhD by now. He ought to take some courses, you know. Find out what he'd like to specialise in. I seriously think he could have a future in academia.'
'Really?' I couldn't deny I felt a rush of pride on Blaise's behalf. It was lovely to think there might be a career for him in the present day. I'd worried endlessly about him and what he might do with himself, and I had a feeling he'd worried just as much, if not more.
Star tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, her mouth set. 'I might do. It depends on my beloved husband.'
'Uh-oh.' I'd been about to get out of the car, but the tone in her voice stilled my hand on the door handle. 'Are you two arguing again?'
'Yes, we are, and what do you mean again?' Star glared at me. 'You make it sound as if that's all we ever do.'
'I'm not saying that,' I assured her, 'but you have to admit, you do rather have a fiery relationship. You, er, like to bicker.'
'We do not bicker,' she protested. 'We have differences of opinion, that's all, and for your information that's the sign of a healthy marriage.'
I nodded. 'Okay. So, what difference of opinion did you have last night?'
'Oh!' She folded her arms and threw herself back in her seat. 'You know what he's like. That wretched witch bottle again.'
'Again? For goodness' sake, Star, why don't you get rid of it?'
'Because if I did that, he could accuse me of anything,' she said. 'And anyway, why should I give in? Why doesn't he drop the subject?'
'Surely it's not about giving in?' I said. 'It's about what's best for your marriage. Really, if it makes Benedict unhappy ...'
'And what about me?' she demanded. 'What if getting rid of it would make me unhappy?'
'But why?' I couldn't for the life of me see why it was such a big deal to her. Star could be exceptionally stubborn, but this was ridiculous. 'He wants to prove to you he trusts you. Can't you see that, by keeping it in place, you're telling Benedict you don't trust him?'
She was quiet for a moment, then she turned to me and it shocked me to see tears in her eyes. 'But I don't trust him, Celeste. How can I?'
I couldn't answer her for a moment. I stared at her, utterly stunned at her confession. 'But why?' I managed, eventually. 'Why don't you trust him?'
'Are you serious?' She gave what sounded like a cross between a laugh and a sob. 'All that time he believed I'd put a love spell on him, remember? He wouldn't believe I hadn't. He thought I'd put a curse on Elvira that time, and he honestly believed I was trying to curse him when I cut that snippet of hair from him, even though I was only trying to protect him. He believed I'd do that! And you know he's got this thing about witches turning people into animals when they're angry. He even thought his mother had turned his father into Billy Blue!'
'Yes,' I said, 'but to be fair, you thought so too.'
'The evidence was compelling,' she admitted. 'But the point is, Benedict's easily spooked. He hasn't adapted to this whole witchcraft thing half as easily as Jethro did.'
'But Jethro's a fantasy writer,' I pointed out. 'He lives half his life in a magical world where anything's possible. Benedict's a science teacher and magic was an alien concept to him. You can't blame him for that. He's done ever so well, if you ask me. He really tries, and he's fitted in much better than I thought he would.'
'I know, I know, but—'
'But what?'
'Oh, Celeste! What if he gets it into his head I've done something to him, or someone in my family has done something to him, and he won't believe it's not true? With the witch bottle in place, he knows it's impossible. No witch can perform magic on him without dire consequences to his or herself. Without that, there are no guarantees, and if he believes one of us has put a spell on him ...'
'Then?'
'Then what if he leaves me again?' she burst out, and my heart contracted as I saw the frightened expression and the unshed tears in her eyes. 'I couldn't bear it. I really couldn't.'
'Star,' I said gently, 'Benedict would never leave you. He was miserable without you, you know that. He loves you so much. Besides, you know what an honourable man he is. He's your husband, and he takes that role seriously. He'd never walk out on you.'
'He did before.'
/> 'But that was different. It was all new to him. You'd just dropped the bombshell you were a witch. He had no idea such things even existed. He was scared, and he thought — well, you know what he thought.'
'That our whole relationship was a lie,' she said glumly. 'That I'd put a love spell on him. I mean, as if! He was mooning about after me from the age of five. Was it likely I'd put a spell on him at that age? Even if there were such things as love spells, which there aren't.'
'But he knows that now,' I comforted her. 'And doesn't that prove he loves you? You were the only girl he was ever interested in since primary school. That's amazing! You have nothing to worry about, nothing at all.'
'Maybe,' she said, wiping her eyes. 'I don't know. All I know is this is coming between us, and it's making me very unhappy.'
'I expect it's making him unhappy, too,' I said. 'But one of you has to give in, you know. For the sake of your marriage.'
She sighed. 'I'd better pick Nan up.'
'And I've got a museum to open.' I reached for the door handle then groaned. 'Oh, forget that. Look who's over there!'
Star peered through the windscreen. 'Who are we — oh, Hector!' She giggled. 'Why are you dodging him? He's not pestering you, is he?'
'No, not at all. Just, I've bumped into him here before and it was a bit awkward.'
'Why?' She narrowed her eyes. 'Not having second thoughts about going on another date with him, are you?'
'Definitely not! I felt mean, that's all. He's very nice. To be honest ...' I hesitated, not wanting to say what had popped into my head.
'What?' she urged. 'Go on, tell me.'
'This will sound awful,' I said, 'but Blaise seems to think Hector's —'
'Hector's what?'
I swallowed. 'Got the hots for me.'
Star hooted with laughter. 'Got the hots for you! Is that how he phrased it?'
'It's not funny,' I said. 'It embarrassed me.' I wrinkled my nose, thinking. 'Blaise was a bit high-handed with Hector, actually. I felt rather sorry for him. After all, Hector was hardly to know Blaise is the rightful owner of Clair Castle and—'