Double, Double, Toil and Truffle (Bewitch by Chocolate ~ Book 6)

by H. Y. Hanna

  “I know you’ve always been outspoken and you can lose your temper,” said Caitlyn hurriedly. “But... but this seems different, Pomie... It’s almost as if you’re enjoying the idea of being cruel—”

  “That’s not true!” Pomona cried. “You’re just against the necklace because Thane Blackmort gave it to me! This is about him, isn’t it?”

  “No, I...” Caitlyn faltered. The last thing she wanted was to fight with her cousin about Blackmort again.

  “I don’t know what you’ve got against him!” said Pomona, looking hurt and angry. “So he’s, like, a bit eccentric ’cos he’s got this ‘black’ thing going on, with the black clothes and black vodka and black private jet... and he throws wild parties with weird people... and you never know what he’s thinking or what he’s going to do next...” She raised her chin and looked at Caitlyn defiantly. “But I love that! He’s powerful and dangerous... and sexy as hell. He’s not like all those other boring billionaires.”

  “Pomona, I would have felt the same about that stone no matter who gave it to you—”

  “No, you wouldn’t! You’ve got a thing against Thane—you’re, like, totally prejudiced against him!”

  “Pomie—please, let’s not fight,” Caitlyn begged.

  Pomona glared at her for a moment, then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Look, Caitlyn... I know you mean well and I appreciate you worrying about me, but... I’m a big girl now, okay? This is my life and I can take care of myself. I’m not going to stop seeing Thane Blackmort just because you don’t like him—and I’m not going to stop wearing the black diamond either.” She gave a forced smile, making a visible effort to lighten the atmosphere. “Hey, you’ve got your runestone necklace, so why I can’t have some magical jewellery too, huh?” She turned towards the shed door. “Come on, let’s go see what Evie and those girls are up to.”

  Caitlyn hesitated. “You go on first. I’m... I’m just going to clean up a bit here,” she said, indicating the empty pen.

  “Okay. Rather you than me,” said Pomona, heading out of the shed.

  Caitlyn sat down on a wooden crate in the corner of the shed, trying to sort out her troubled thoughts. She knew that, in a way, Pomona was right. Her cousin was a grown woman and her romantic affairs were nobody’s business but her own. Still...

  Caitlyn thought of that black gem sparkling at her cousin’s throat, then she thought of the enigmatic billionaire who seemed to fascinate Pomona so deeply, and she felt a sense of foreboding fill her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CAITLYN WAS SOMBRE as she walked back to the manor house alone. She was so immersed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the commotion at first. Then, as she rounded the corner of the converted barn, she realised that she could hear a familiar grumpy voice coming from behind the bushes next to the building:

  “Let go! Let go, you great oaf!”

  She peered behind the bushes and was astonished to see Viktor wrestling with Bran the English mastiff. The old vampire was yanking on one end of a banana, trying to pull it out of the mouth of the giant dog. The mastiff, who was wagging his tail, obviously thought this was a wonderful new game and had his jaws clamped delicately around the long yellow fruit, refusing to let it go.

  “Give me my banana back, you big lump!” shouted Viktor, his face turning red as he tugged.

  They were such a comical sight that Caitlyn felt her spirits lift in spite of herself, and a grin tugged the corners of her lips. She also felt a flash of sympathy for Viktor. She could remember once also desperately trying to pull something out of Bran’s mouth and working herself into a state of exhausted frustration. The mastiff could be stubborn and he was very, very strong. She’d had no luck, until James had told her the correct command. Now, what was it? Release? No... Drop? No, drop it...? Yes, that was it!

  She called out in a commanding voice: “Bran, drop it!”

  The English mastiff paused and furrowed his brow as he thought for a moment, then he brightened and opened his enormous jaws. Viktor reeled backwards suddenly as the banana was released, and fell onto his backside.

  “Stupid beast,” he muttered, holding up the banana and regarding it with disgust. It was covered in slimy dog drool. “How am I going to eat this now?”

  “Viktor, I’m so glad I found you,” said Caitlyn, rushing to his side and helping him to his feet. “I’ve been desperate to speak to you!”

  “Eh? Speak to me about what?”

  “About my mother! You mentioned her the other day at the vet clinic, remember? Why did you never tell me about her before?” she demanded.

  Viktor looked a bit perplexed. “You never asked me.”

  Caitlyn heaved a sigh of exasperation. “But you knew I was searching for answers about my past. That’s why I came to England, why I found my way to Tillyhenge! You were waiting for me, weren’t you? That’s what you told me the first time I met you.”

  Viktor scratched his head. “Well, I thought you would come back to England eventually and I’d promised Tara that I would protect you and be your guardian uncle, just as I was named hers when she was a little girl—”

  “My mother’s name was Tara?” cried Caitlyn. It seemed pathetic but she knew so little about her mother that even learning her name was a thrill. “What was she like? Do I look like her? What happened to her? Why did she abandon me? Why won’t anyone talk about her? Where is she now—” She caught herself, realising that she was becoming incoherent. Slowly, she took a deep breath and let it out again, trying to get her emotions under control, then she said, more calmly, “Viktor—where is she?”

  The old vampire tutted. “Dear me... well, the truth is, I don’t know. Great hullaballoo, you know, when she disappeared, but I wasn’t here—”

  “What do you mean, you weren’t here?”

  “I was in Transylvania. It was the last time I was on holiday at the Nosferatu Club... hmm, let me see now... about twenty-two years ago, I think it was.”

  “That’s when I was born,” said Caitlyn eagerly. “Did you see me before you left?”

  “Well, no... indeed, I was most astonished when I returned to find a letter from Tara waiting for me, in which she revealed that she had become a mother! Really! When she was little more than a child herself! She would have only just turned seventeen, you know, and—”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute... you’re saying that you never realised my mother was pregnant? How could you not have noticed? It’s not like a baby pops out overnight!”

  Viktor looked aggrieved. “Well, Tara never told me before I left and she certainly didn’t look like she was with child.”

  “But... how long were you gone for?” Caitlyn demanded.

  Viktor screwed up his face in an effort to remember. “Hmm... a little over a year, I believe... or perhaps it was eighteen months?”

  “What?” said Caitlyn incredulously. “Who goes on vacation for a year and a half?”

  Viktor looked puzzled. “What do you mean? It was only a brief holiday.”

  Caitlyn gritted her teeth and reminded herself that to a six-hundred-year-old vampire, eighteen months was probably the equivalent of a long weekend.

  “Okay, so you saw me when you got back?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, I never laid eyes on you until this year, when you returned to England,” said Viktor. “But I knew you immediately, of course. You have the look of your mother, my dear. Oh, Tara’s hair was a darker red and she was taller, but really, you are very alike. I would have known you anywhere.”

  “How... how did you know my name?”

  “Ah, Tara told me in her letter. She said that she’d named the baby ‘Caitlyn’ and that she’d sent her to America to keep her safe. But should she—that is, you—come back to England one day, Tara wanted me to watch over you and protect you, as your guardian uncle.”

  Caitlyn swallowed, feeling some of the pain that she always carried in her heart ease slightly. So her mother hadn’t jus
t abandoned her by the roadside, where she had been found by Barbara Le Fey. No, her mother had cared about her, had tried to make sure that she was looked after, had maybe even planned her departure from the country...

  Caitlyn thought back to Barbara’s funeral, which was when she had first learned that she was adopted and that the American singer had not been her natural mother after all. The letter that Barbara had left her had explained how she had been found, as a newborn infant, by the side of the road in the Cotswolds countryside. Barbara had been on her way to a country house party given by a celebrity friend and her car had been forced to take a detour down a country lane... But what if that detour hadn’t been a chance occurrence? What if it had been engineered by her mother, so that Barbara would find the little baby girl, wrapped up in blankets and left by the side of the road? Tara had been a powerful witch—that was the one thing Caitlyn had picked up—and it would probably have been easy for her to use spells and enchantments to manipulate Barbara Le Fey’s movements that day.

  And if her mother had been looking for someone to take her baby out of the country quickly, Barbara Le Fey would have been an ideal choice. With her celebrity status, great wealth, and connections, the American singer was able to bypass many of the usual obstacles to adoption. Once they had established that no parent was coming forwards to claim the baby, Social Services had probably been glad to have one less child to foster, one less child to care for, especially if the child was clearly going to a privileged home.

  Except... Caitlyn frowned. Why had no one come forward to claim me? If her mother couldn’t, for whatever reason, what about her grandmother and her aunt?

  “Viktor, why didn’t the Widow Mags and Bertha adopt me instead?”

  Viktor looked up from the banana he was peeling. “Eh? Never knew about you. Well, not until I told them, anyway.”

  Caitlyn stared. “What do you mean... how could they not have known about me? The Widow Mags is my grandmother. She was Tara’s mother, for heaven’s sake!”

  Viktor made a face. “Always at loggerheads, those two, even when Tara was a little girl... She was very wild, you know, and terribly headstrong. Mind you, she was a very talented witch. Knew how to cast spells from the age of three—and no one had even taught her! She would run rings around everyone, even Mags, and no one could control her. Couldn’t even discipline her, you see, because she would use magic to thwart you.” Viktor gave a fond smile, his rheumy old eyes taking on a faraway look. “But she was a lovely girl... so clever... and so charming when she wanted to be. No one had a smile as sweet as Tara...” He frowned. “Mags always said I indulged her too much, spoiled the girl, and that’s why she turned out so wild... what a load of garlic! I did try to chastise Tara, you know, but she wouldn’t listen to me any more than anyone else.” He hesitated, then added grudgingly, “I suppose Mags was right. It was not a good thing for one so young to be so powerful. It went to Tara’s head slightly, you know. Thought she was the bee’s knees and wouldn’t accept anyone telling her what to do.”

  Caitlyn thought of her stubborn, cantankerous grandmother, who also had a strong personality and a will of iron. She could just imagine how mother and daughter must have clashed.

  “Tara was always threatening to run away, after one of their fights,” Viktor said pensively. “I never thought she’d really do it, though. It was just her temper talking. She was very passionate, you see—she never liked or disliked, oh no, she only loved or hated.”

  “So you think my mother had a fight with the Widow Mags and that’s why they didn’t know about me? Had she run away?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know, my dear. I tried to ask Mags when I came back from Transylvania, but she wouldn’t talk about it. Neither would Bertha. Even when I told them about the letter. In fact, Mags seemed disinclined to believe a word of it!”

  “She wouldn’t believe that I existed?” asked Caitlyn, hurt.

  “I think Bertha wanted to believe me, but Mags refused to even listen... Always was a stubborn old hag,” muttered Viktor with remembered indignation. “Well, I told her that I would not be darkening her doorway again and she told me good riddance—and that was the last time I spoke to her... until you came to Tillyhenge, my dear.”

  Caitlyn suddenly remembered the night Viktor had turned up at the Widow Mags’s cottage and their frosty greetings towards each other.

  “So... you never saw my mother again either?” she asked in disappointment. “But you were my mother’s guardian uncle. You were supposed to keep her safe. Didn’t you try to look for her?”

  “Of course I tried,” said Viktor huffily. “I searched all over, from John o’ Groats to Land’s End... couldn’t find any sign of her. She told me I wouldn’t.”

  “What do you mean? Who told you?”

  “Tara, in her letter. Told me not to worry about her, not to search for her—that even if I tried, I wouldn’t find her. She was right.” Viktor gave a dry smile. “Vanishing spells would have been easy for a witch with her powers.”

  Caitlyn heaved a sigh of frustration. “But... where did she vanish to?”

  IF CAITLYN THOUGHT that her mind had been troubled before, it was nothing compared to the turmoil she felt when she finally left Viktor and continued across the estate parklands and over the hill, back to Bewitched by Chocolate. She knew she had a million more questions to ask the old vampire, but she had suddenly felt too overwhelmed to ask any more. She needed some time alone, to think, to come to terms with what she had learned. She felt like someone who had been starved for too long and was suddenly struggling to digest a big meal. For such a long time, she had built up a fantasy in her head of the woman who was her mother... but the girl that Viktor had described had sounded nothing like her imaginings. Now she didn’t know what to think, what to feel.

  And she couldn’t believe that the Widow Mags would disown her own daughter, no matter how wild and rebellious, simply because of some domestic squabbles. The old witch might have been stern and proud, but Caitlyn knew that her grandmother’s prickly exterior hid a warm, compassionate heart. There had to be a very good reason for her to turn against her own daughter. There was more to the story—something that had happened while Viktor was away on his holiday, of which he was unaware.

  Then she stopped suddenly in her tracks. Of course! She had been so fixated on her mother that she hadn’t even given a thought to the other great mystery of her past: her father! She was sure that he was part of the reason for the estrangement between Tara and the Widow Mags. She shook her head and laughed ruefully. It seemed stupid now that she thought about it, but she didn’t know why she hadn’t considered it before. For one thing, the fact that she existed—that Tara had had a baby—should have reminded her that there had been a man involved.

  I must ask Viktor about my father when I next see him, she thought. Briefly, she toyed with asking the Widow Mags herself, then quickly gave up the idea. She knew that she would just be stonewalled again. But I’ll find a way to get answers, she promised herself. Even if Viktor doesn’t know, even if he can’t tell me much more, I’m still going to keep pushing until I find out. It was the first time since she had come to Tillyhenge that she felt like she was making some headway. She had found out more about her mother today than she had in the last three months. And I’m not stopping now!

  Caitlyn arrived back at the chocolate shop to find that her grandmother was not alone. There was a couple in the shop, and as they turned slightly and their faces came into view, Caitlyn was surprised to recognise Lawrence Ford the lawyer and his wife Susan. They were leaning over the glass counter, peering at the display of chocolate truffles beneath the pane, and Susan was eagerly pointing at various flavours.

  “That one! The dark chocolate truffle cup... and also the crunchy English toffee dipped in dark chocolate... ooh, and that chocolate ganache with chopped hazelnuts... and this one, is it peanut butter? Ooh, yes, definitely—” Susan Ford glanced up as Caitlyn joined them at the counter, and her face
lit up with recognition. “Oh! You’re the girl I met at the veterinary clinic.”

  “Yes, hi,” said Caitlyn, giving her a polite smile. “How nice to see you again. I don’t think you’ve been in Grandma’s shop before?”

  The woman gave her a coy smile. “Oh, well, I think you’re going to see me in here a lot now.”

  Lawrence Ford had looked up as well, but if he recognised Caitlyn from the time he’d seen her at the Manor, he gave no sign. Instead, he sounded slightly impatient as he said to his wife:

  “Are you sure you want all those truffles, darling?”

  “Oh yes, I want a big box with at least six of each flavour,” said his wife, nodding to the Widow Mags, who was standing behind the counter.

  “Six! Are you sure you should be eating so much chocolate?” asked her husband in consternation.

  Susan pouted at him. “Oh Lawrence, I need to have chocolate! And you know what they say about pregnancy cravings—”

  “Pregnancy cravings!” blurted Caitlyn in surprise.

  Susan gave her another coy smile. “Yes, isn’t it lucky that there’s a chocolate shop right in the village?”

  Caitlyn stared at her. “You mean you’re...”

  Susan Ford beamed. “I’m pregnant! Yes, the doctor confirmed it this morning.”

  “Oh! Wow... congratulations,” said Caitlyn.

  Susan laughed at her expression. “You see? Minerva’s fertility spell worked after all. Everyone had given up hope. The doctors said I was infertile. You all thought I was stupid and mad to pay her all that money to cast a spell for me...” She shot her husband a triumphant look. “But it worked! I knew it would! I never stopped believing in the power of magic...” She rubbed a jubilant hand over her belly. “And now it’s given me my dream come true, exactly as Minerva had promised.”

  Lawrence Ford scowled and started to say something, then clamped his mouth shut. Turning to the Widow Mags, he asked curtly how much the chocolates were. A few minutes later, the couple left, a large box of chocolate truffles tucked under one of Lawrence Ford’s arms and his wife hanging on the other, chattering happily about baby bibs and booties.