His fingers had always been so clever.
But I’d been wrong earlier, when I’d thought that his rueful grin was his most appealing expression. How could I ever have forgotten?
The intent expression he wore when he was casting magic was even better.
His spell rippled through me like sweet relief, lifting the dizziness and the beginnings of nausea like a clinging set of veils that he was drawing gently from my skin.
The unnatural warmth of the wine lifted with them. But what remained, as my head and vision finally cleared...
His dark eyes gazed into mine from only inches away, his head bent over mine, with his soft, glossy black hair falling into his face...more than close enough to touch.
I knew exactly how it would feel against my fingers.
I had never been able to forget.
His shoulders weren’t propped against the wall anymore. He was cradling me—or so it felt, although he wasn’t actually touching me anymore. He had his left arm propped against the wall beside my head as he lifted his right forefinger away from my cheek.
My breath came quickly in my chest.
I wasn’t dizzy anymore.
But it had been so long since we’d done this. So unbearably long...
His head tilted, his gaze holding mine, warm and intent and even more focused now than when he’d cast his spell. It was breathtaking. He was breathtaking.
He always had been.
Slowly, carefully, he shifted toward me, lowering his right arm to his side and leaving me a clear space to escape.
If I only wanted to.
Holding my breath, I rose on tiptoes...
“Ahem!” A loud cough broke the silence.
We sprang apart. I was panting, my heart galloping painfully in my chest, as I stared uncomprehendingly at my older brother...who stood just before the open doorway of the dining room, watching us with barely-suppressed hilarity.
“So sorry to interrupt,” Jonathan declared, sweeping an elegant bow. “But I did think I’d better warn you, in case you hadn’t noticed the housemaid passing by, that the rest of the gentlemen are all about to come stampeding out here on their way to the parlor. So...” His lips widened into an outright, maddening smirk. “Don’t you think you two ought to find a nice cozy broom closet before you go any further with this sort of thing?”
I stared at him, wordless, for one frozen moment. Then Wrexham shifted beside me, drawing in a breath, and I began to turn toward him—
And my reason finally, finally came crashing back into me.
My jaw dropped open. Heat swept through my body. But this time, it wasn’t elven wine or excitement.
It was pure, unalloyed shame.
I swore that I would let him go.
If we’d waited even one moment longer—if Jonathan hadn’t warned us—every gossiping magician in Cosgrave Manor would have seen us embracing and spread the news like wildfire.
Within minutes, Wrexham would have been hopelessly compromised...and nothing I said or did after that could have released him except for our marriage.
How could I have been so careless?
With a moan of guilt, I turned and fled through Cosgrave Manor all the way to my room without a single glance back.
8
There were mornings when rising from bed to face the world seemed frankly impossible. Or even more accurately: pointless.
But I’d spent the last four months learning to do it anyway. So I hauled myself out of bed the next morning at a reasonable hour, I sailed down to the breakfast table with grim determination, and when I glimpsed Miss Banks’s hopeful approach in the corner of my eye, I didn’t even flinch.
“Of course,” I said, setting down my fork as she fluttered near me. I couldn’t quite summon up a smile, but I did manage a polite nod. Wrexham was just stepping through the far door into the room, but I forced my gaze to remain fixed—mostly—on Miss Banks’s hopeful face. “We agreed to take a walk in the knot garden, did we not?”
“Oh, yes, if you wouldn’t mind, that would be wonderful, although of course you can finish your breakfast first and—”
Oh, no.
For all that he was allowing himself to be delayed by various conversational sallies along the way, Wrexham was definitely setting a course toward my table.
Grim determination was one thing. Outright heroism before I’d drunk my morning tea was quite another...and I’d learned last night just how weak my resolve had become in the two long months of our separation.
So I interrupted Miss Banks ruthlessly. “What better time than the present?” Leaving my half-full plate behind, I rose to my feet and tucked one firm hand through her arm to tow her from the room. “We may as well get this over with immediately.”
Really, there couldn’t be any better time to remind myself exactly why it had been so necessary to give up my fiancé in the first place...even if he was still stubbornly acting like a man who hadn’t been fiercely driven away forever.
At least he didn’t try to stop us as we strode, arm-in-arm, past him.
But the sardonic twist on his lips spoke volumes.
My back teeth were grinding together. I forced my jaw open with an effort as we stepped through the doorway. “We’d better—”
“Here.” Miss Banks tilted her head, not quite hiding a satisfied smile, as a maid appeared at the end of the corridor with a pile of warm outerwear in her arms. “I asked for our coats and boots to be brought before I came to find you.”
Hmm. There was more to the shy and sweet Miss Banks than I’d imagined. Perhaps she would survive the Great Library after all.
She certainly showed no signs of being put off by the weather, although the snow lay piled up before the house and we had to pace carefully through the narrow paths dug by Lady Cosgrave’s gardeners.
A pale sun shone through the grey mass of clouds overhead, casting its watery light against the thick white snow that balanced on the branches of the sculpted hedges before us. Even more snow fell in a light, steady stream around us as we stepped through the arched opening in the hedge and into the cloistered privacy of the knot garden.
I might not be a weather wizard myself, nor one with nature, but even I knew it must have stopped snowing by now in any natural winter storm.
Thank goodness for the elaborately sculpted knotwork spell in the hedges. Even an elf’s prying eyes wouldn’t see through those branches.
Probably.
To take my mind off that disquieting thought, I said briskly, “So, what spells have you learned to cast thus far?”
“I beg your pardon?” Miss Banks slid me a startled look under her hood. “You know I haven’t been accepted—”
“Yes, yes.” I released her arm and pulled my own satin-lined hood more tightly around my face for warmth. “But what spells have you managed to teach yourself already?”
There was a moment’s pause as she studied me warily. “You do remember that the Library directs all students to wait until their arrival—”
I waved an impatient hand. “And?”
Her expression broke into an irrepressible grin. “Look!” Whispering under her breath, she twirled around. The air shimmered.
A rainbow of lights shot up around her. Yellow, red, violet, blue...
They all speared upward and disappeared, leaving her laughing and triumphant in the snow before me. “Well?”
Something caught in my throat as I looked at her bright young face—a knot of emotions formed by pain and piercing envy and an unexpected, fierce tenderness.
I knew that exhilaration so well.
I wouldn’t let anyone take it away from this girl—not even herself.
I would not.
I cleared my throat with an effort. “Very good,” I said hoarsely. “Very pretty. Where did you learn it?”
She blinked, looking suddenly shy again. “I...found an old book of my father’s. Well, he was going to be rid of it, actually—he never had a son, and he hasn’t practiced him
self in years—I think he never really cared for magic in the first place, so—”
“So you stole it,” I said. “I see.”
Her face fell. “I just—”
“Miss Banks...” I heaved a weary sigh. “Do you have any idea how many of my own father’s books I smuggled out of his library over the years?”
“You did?” Her eyes widened.
I gave a thin smile, stretched taut by memories. Of course, I’d had it easier than she had when it came to the actual acquisition of my books—I’d had Jonathan on my side, so whenever he’d been home for the holidays I’d sent him sneaking into the family library with a list of items to procure for me. If our parents had ever caught my brother with those books, after all, they would have been only too delighted...whereas I’d had them confiscated again and again whenever they were found hidden in my room, and I’d lost more than one meal as punishment for my incorrigibility.
Worse yet, after our father had died, his library door had been firmly locked...and only Jonathan had been allowed any access to the key.
I said, firmly shoving those recollections aside, “You’ll need a better book to work with. That spell comes from Richmond’s Assortment of Delights, which is only intended for festive occasions. Lovely to pull out for a long evening with friends, of course, but not much use in practical terms. If you want to persuade the Great Library of your abilities, you’ll need to prove them in a way that no one can pass off as a mere party trick.”
“Oh.” She swallowed visibly, looking suddenly smaller within her cloak. “I...I’m not sure there are any other books in my house. But perhaps...perhaps if I can find a way into Lord Cosgrave’s library, or...”
“Better not steal them from our host,” I said gently. “That wouldn’t put you on the right foot at all. And fortunately, you shouldn’t have to.” As she looked at me in open bafflement, I shook my head at her. “I am saying, Miss Banks, that I will send you all the books that you require. I have plenty, nowadays...and as you know, I can’t use any of them myself anymore.”
“But...” She surprised me by frowning with open disapproval. “What if you do need them again in the future, Miss Harwood? If you ever regain your ability to cast spells, or—”
“Trust me,” I said through gritted teeth. “That won’t be happening.”
The look on her face was unbearable. I spun on one heel and looked across the snowy knot garden, taking deep, bracing breaths of cold air. Snow swept into my mouth and against my cheeks as I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest.
“They’ll teach you at the Library,” I told her, “never to cast certain spells alone. There are a few that are famously too much for just one person. And when you throw yourself into a great spell like that—when you apply all of your own power to it, as you must—it can sweep you away to your own undoing.” My lips twisted. “That’s what separates us from the elves, you see. Their power is intrinsic and tied into the land. Ours... We’re only human. We can touch magic, if we have enough skill and enough training, but we can’t always control it. We have to know our limits and respect them—or be broken.”
There was a moment of near-silence as the snow fell around us in a soft, whispering hiss. A nearby hedge creaked softly as its branches bent under the weight of snow.
Then Miss Banks finally spoke, her voice quiet. “Why did you do it, then?”
More snow trickled down my cheeks, forming thin, cold paths across my skin. “I was stupid,” I said flatly.
“But you’re clearly not.” Miss Banks stepped closer, her voice sharpening. “Miss Harwood, really. You forced the Great Library to admit you, breaking all of their previous rules and traditions. And I’ve heard other magicians speaking of you. You were the best student of your year.”
“That’s...not quite fair.” I winced. “Wrexham and I always battled for that top spot, actually. Depending on the year and exam, either one of us—”
“It was Mr. Wrexham who told me so, last night.”
“Well.” My lips stretched into a humorless smile. “That was kind of him. But.” I shrugged convulsively, trying to thrust the whole formless mess of four months ago off my shoulders.
How could I explain it all to her, anyway? How everything had piled together until I couldn’t breathe and I’d been ready to risk everything just to break free of the invisible ropes holding me back.
How I’d graduated with top honors, just as I’d always dreamed I would...and then everything had suddenly stopped.
Oh, I’d had my magic, certainly—no one could deny me that anymore. I’d had all my shining awards and certificates to wave in the faces of anyone who’d dared to try. Everyone accepted that I was a real magician now, for all that I was back home, not at the Library anymore. And yet...
Somehow, whenever the Boudiccate had an opening in the ranks of their officers of magic, I was never, ever the one chosen to fill it, no matter how shining my awards at the Library might have been—and no matter how passionately my own fiancé fought for my inclusion after his own appointment came directly upon his graduation.
When the Great Library advertised for a new lecturer earlier this year, I wasn’t even among the seven candidates invited to interview for the position, despite all the work that I’d poured into my application...and all my articles on magical research that their own journal had published over the years.
Every time one of those articles had been published, I’d celebrated what I’d naïvely seen as a true achievement. But none of them had turned out to matter after all. Because like it or not—published or not, skilled or not—I would always be known as that singular oddity, the woman magician...and apparently, not one of those awards or articles was enough to overturn all of Angland’s oldest traditions and prove that I was, after all, suited for a role that had belonged solely to men for centuries.
So I’d had to do something even more magnificent. Something that would show them that I couldn’t be ignored, left to molder in safe invisibility on my family estate with my awards and certificates while my classmates moved on to acclaim and active magical careers.
A spell that everyone knew one magician alone could never cast...
Well, everyone “knew” that a woman could never do magic either, didn’t they?
I said, “Even the cleverest magician can make mistakes. Obviously.”
I’d planned for Wrexham to be the witness to my triumph, to swear on it for me to his superiors. But of course I hadn’t told him what I’d planned. I’d known that he would never agree to such a risk. So I’d begun the spell just before he’d been due to arrive for his planned visit, knowing that he would be too late to stop me.
And the expression on his face as he’d raced across the room to catch me, just as the spell ripped through my bones and I began that burning, tearing slide into oblivion...
I hadn’t opened my eyes again for another two days after that. But when I had, he’d been the first thing I’d seen, sitting slumped by my sickbed with his head buried in his hands in unmistakable despair.
I’d known that I was risking myself when I cast that spell. But I hadn’t truly understood, when I’d made the decision, just how badly I could hurt him, too.
Now I drew a deep, icy breath, letting the memory sink back through me.
I won’t make that mistake again.
“What you have to understand,” I told Miss Banks, “is that it isn’t a matter of proving yourself once and being done with it. Being admitted to the Great Library won’t grant you your classmates’ respect. And graduating from it won’t force anyone else to treat you the way they would treat a gentleman magician.”
“Then I’ll have to keep on fighting,” she said. “Miss Fennell will, too.” Her small jaw squared. “Don’t worry, Miss Harwood. We know it won’t be an easy battle. But that doesn’t mean that it’s not worth fighting.”
“No,” I said quietly. “It certainly doesn’t.” From somewhere deep inside me, I found a true smile. “I look forward to witnes
sing your achievements. And we will find you your magic books, I promise. But in the meantime...” A shiver rippled through me, and I startled myself with a laugh. “What do you say I teach you a real spell? One that can actually give us some warmth in this wretched weather?”
“Really?” Miss Banks’s face lit up. “Oh will you, Miss Harwood? Please?”
Yesterday, I’d restrained myself with all my might from telling Lord Cosgrave how to cast the spell of warmth with more precision. Today, I said to Miss Banks with utter sincerity, “I would love to.”
We stepped out of the knot garden over an hour later, laughing and triumphant and enclosed in perfect bubbles of warmth. My cloak was steaming nicely within my bubble, and my chest felt even warmer as I watched Miss Banks dance ahead of me down the narrow path, perfectly untouched by the snow that fell around her.
It wasn’t the easiest spell for a beginner to learn. But by the end, she had managed it perfectly...and neither of our bubbles had a single leak.
If the Great Library didn’t allow her in, I would eat my hat.
...And then I would eat their hidebound old selves, too! They might imagine that they could get away with accepting one woman student and then being rid of females forever, but they were wrong. I wouldn’t be the last of us! I swore that now as I reveled in Miss Banks’s delight.
I was finished with hiding. If the Great Library tried to turn her away—a girl with this much overflowing magical ability—I would talk to all of the same newspapers that had reviled me before, and I would shout and scream about the injustice until it became a story to enrage the world.
I would do whatever it took to allow a whole stream of laughing, bright young women to follow in my path and take it further than I had ever managed, and then I would—
*Pop!*
The bubble of spellcast warmth was gone.
Snow swirled around me as I came to a halt, frowning. Had Miss Banks’s spell broken? Or—
Wait.
I jerked around, sudden panic thrumming through my skin.
A familiar silhouette stood in the distance. Watching me. I couldn’t see his expression, but I didn’t need to. The popping of that bubble had been more than message enough.
Snowspelled: Volume I of The Harwood Spellbook Page 7