“Tea,” Abbie said, and walked down the hall toward the kitchens. She could feel the woman’s eyes on her until she turned the corner.
It wasn’t until she was well away from the room and the hallway that she realized she had been too nervous about being found out to even notice if anything in the room held magical signatures. She had kept her talent searching, at least, and felt the magic in Margaret, of course—that was too powerful to ignore—but nothing else registered.
She thought back, picturing the room, trying to distinguish something that might be important, but she could not. The simple truth was she had failed spectacularly in observing anything useful. She would have to do better next time.
Chapter 11
Ben sat in what he considered the most important room in the estate, one that always made him feel closer to his father. It was his father’s trophy room, or as Ben had come to think of it: his gun room.
At times, he would go to the room his father had set aside to display the different things he had collected. It was a large chamber, left exactly as it was when Hank Mason was alive. Thickly stuffed leather couches and chairs, a good-sized fireplace, paintings on the wall, sculptures and trophies on pedestals and shelves, books, and of course, there were guns.
There were one hundred thirty-seven different firearms in the room, most in glass cases. The collection held everything from black powder weapons from the time period when the Masons had first settled in the area to high-powered rifles and handguns, now lonely in the room without his father to keep them company. Ben could still feel Hank Mason’s presence here, and it calmed him.
Despite the collection, Ben’s father had never hunted an animal in his life, though he did routinely take out one or more of his guns and shoot targets at the range. He had even dabbled in target shooting competitions when he was younger, winning a few awards, the trophies for which validated the formal name of the room.
Ben himself had shot many of the guns he could see as he sat on one of the couches. Those were good days, when his father took him to the range and they shot until the evening came. The boy had become a fair aim with many of them. It was spending time with his father that mattered, though.
He got up from the couch and walked around the room, stopping at guns that had particularly strong memories for him. He ran his fingers along the marble statues of ancient warriors and the bronze statues of horses rearing or galloping. He inhaled the musty smell of old leather from the books neatly arranged on the bookshelves. He sighed at the loss of that innocent, happy time when he really had no cares in the world but, of course, didn’t see it that way then.
Ben heard a sound from the doorway and turned in time to see a flash of black and white moving back into the hall.
“Wait,” he said, hurrying to the doorway to see who it was. The maid turned to face him, already halfway down the hall with her cart of cleaning tools and supplies. It was Abigail.
“Oh, Abigail, it’s you,” he said. “Come back, please. Were you going to dust in here?”
She walked slowly back to him, pushing her cart. “I was going to, but please don’t let me disturb you. I can do it later.”
“No, it’s fine. I was just leaving. Really, go ahead.”
“I would hate to impose,” Abigail said. “It’s no—”
“You’re not imposing. Please, come on in. I have other things I can be doing, anyway.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am.” Ben reached for her hand and when his touched hers, he felt that jolt again, like he did when they first met. It almost made him let go, but he didn’t. Instead, he tried not to let her see there was anything odd and pulled her through the doorway.
“Have you seen my father’s trophy room before?” he asked her.
“Once,” she said. “I came in to dust and clean the glass on the cases once before.”
“Oh, so there’s no need for me to give you the grand tour. Too bad.”
Abigail looked at him blankly. She seemed uncomfortable, then he realized he was still holding her hand. He let it go. Slowly. That jolt he felt, it was weaker than it had been. He mourned its loss already.
“Did your father hunt?” she asked.
“No. He didn’t believe in hurting things, least of all animals. He told me once that you can find beauty in just about anything. These guns in his collection all sparked his interest and appreciation. The styling, the lines of their design, the way the mechanisms moved, there was something about each one of them. It probably seems silly.”
“No, not at all,” Abigail said as she walked up to a musket mounted on a stand. “This musket, for example. The way the hammer is curved with just a little bit of ornate design on it and the way the butt sweeps back, I could see calling it graceful, even beautiful. The work it does is ugly, but the object, yes, I can see your father’s point.”
Ben stared at the new maid, standing there in her black and white uniform, her red hair falling in ringlets and swept back with a piece of pale green hair ribbon. She noticed and fidgeted.
“What?” she said.
“That’s almost exactly how my father described that gun. It was one of his favorites. You are something else, Abigail Henderson. I think my father would have loved you.”
She looked around, obviously uncomfortable.
“Well, I better get going. I would hate to get you in trouble by holding up your work. Have a good day, Abigail.”
“You too, Master Mason. You too.”
He thought of insisting she call him Ben, but he had already made her uncomfortable enough. He couldn’t help saying one more thing. “Abbie, I’m glad you came here. This room seems…brighter with you present.”
He walked away before she had a chance to respond. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass her. As he went through the door, he looked back and saw her looking after him, a confused look on her face. Yeah, her and me both, he thought and headed down the hall.
Over the next month Abigail saw Ben more often than chance would dictate. At times, it seemed that every time she turned around, he would be there. She didn’t notice at first, reveling in their chance encounters. They would speak a few words, little things about the weather or some bit of news one or the other had heard, then they would go back to whatever they had been doing.
As time went on, though, she got the definite feeling that he was searching her out, “accidentally” almost running into her in the hall as she carried out her tasks and then stopping to chat for a brief time because it was polite to do so. She smiled at the thought. Was he pursuing her?
She didn’t have much experience in relationships. She had always been too busy trying to fill the hole her mother’s death had left by throwing herself into the work of her coven. She was fairly sure he was flirting with her, but she wasn’t positive. All she knew was that she liked it, and that concerned her.
“Hi Abbie,” Ben said, looking up and down the hall they were in to see if anyone else was around. “How are you?”
Abigail scanned the area herself and, finding no evidence there was anyone else around, responded, “Hi, Ben. I’m great. How is your day?”
“Fine…now.” His smile was so charming and sweet, it made her heart ache.
“Are you off to do anything exciting?” she asked.
“No. I’m just heading down to the gym to work out.” He paused as if he had nothing else to say. The silence seemed to stretch and just as Abigail was about to say something, he continued. “What about you, what do you do to keep that body of…I mean, to look so…uh…to stay fit?” He was blushing furiously and it was so cute she wanted to hug him.
“I run from all the guys after me,” she deadpanned.
His nostrils flared and his eyes widened, then he blinked. It was a good two seconds before he finally decided it was safe for him to laugh.
“I better get back to work,” she said and started to turn.
“Yeah. I better get going, too.” His fingertips brushed the skin o
n her arm as he turned to go the other way. “It was nice seeing you. Have a good day.”
“Thank you,” Abbie said as she smiled at him. “You too. Don’t overdo it and hurt yourself.”
“What?”
“You know, during your workout. Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Oh,” he said, “right. I’ll try to be careful.”
As they went their separate ways, she felt his gaze as he turned to look at her one last time. She smiled.
That was the way of it, chance meetings and awkward conversations. She thought he probably liked her but couldn’t convince herself fully it was true. He was, after all, good-looking and rich and part of a powerful family that looked down on those with less money. On the other hand, she herself had a definite bias against onlies and an even stronger one against fire warlocks, but she still enjoyed being near him.
No, there was no future for them, even if, in moments of weakness, she thought about how it might be to be with him. She promised herself she would not get caught up in the little scenarios that played in her mind. Her mission was important, much more important than his blue eyes and gorgeous smile. She would remind herself as often as necessary. No distractions could be allowed.
Still, Abigail did think of Ben. When he appeared suddenly as she was going about her chores, her heart always did a little dance and she found herself trying to hold down a smile. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her smile. Then he would know how much she enjoyed interacting with him, that she was fond of him. She had to play it cool and maybe he’d get tired of popping up in front of her every time she turned around.
Then again, when she got halfway through the day and he still had not appeared, she found herself worrying that he may have lost interest and moved onto other pursuits. What was wrong with her? She was being contradictory and scatterbrained. How did the man do that to her?
Chapter 12
Ben sighed as he tightened the tie around his neck for another of his mother’s parties. He hated these things. These soirées were nothing but an excuse for boring people to get together and brag about how much money they made or the amazing vacation they had just taken. He hoped it would end early.
Putting his jacket on—a navy double-breasted suit rather than a tuxedo because this was an “informal” party—he checked himself in the mirror. The sad eyes looking back at him didn’t give him much hope for a mercifully quick end to the festivities. Maybe he’d get a chance to see Abigail, though. His blue eyes brightened and the grim line of the mouth in front of him quirked into a small smile.
When Margaret held parties, all the staff helped to serve and do whatever else was needed to make the attendees as happy as possible. Even the part-time staff, those who didn’t live at the estate but who covered the days the full-time staff didn’t work, were called in to man a tray or take coats at the door. Abigail would definitely be working, but Ben had no idea where. He’d keep his eyes open. It could be fun, like searching for secret treasure.
“Do you like these things all of a sudden?” Lucas’s voice came at him from the doorway. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you smile for one of these parties.”
“I was just thinking of something else,” Ben said. “I still hate them. You’re lucky you only have to take people’s cars and park them.”
“Yeah, right. I only have to deal with every one of the guests threatening to have me beaten if there is a scratch on their car when they get it back. That’s my idea of fun.”
“I guess we both have it bad, huh? I feel like I need a drink.”
“Ben, my man, you don’t even drink. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you have more than one, maybe two drinks in a whole evening.”
“I might start if there are any more of these parties. Hell, I might start smoking, too. Maybe I’ll get a tattoo.”
Lucas laughed and slapped Ben on the shoulder. “That would make your mother happy. Try to have some fun tonight, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”
Ben watched Lucas leave. He thought parking cars and having people threaten him might be a definite improvement over what the night held for him. The men and women his age were the worst. All they talked about was the fun they were having with their parents’ money or how they were getting more responsibility in the family businesses or how “poor people” were ruining the country. It’s no wonder Lucas thought him biased against others who didn’t have as much money as him. That’s all he heard at these social gatherings.
Well, there was nothing to do but to get it over with. With a last look in the mirror, he turned on his heels and headed out of the room. His mother would want him in place before most of the guests arrived.
“Benjamin,” Margaret said as he came down the main staircase to the ground floor. “Good, you’re not late.” She looked him over, fiddled with his collar. “Why didn’t you wear the charcoal suit? It looks better on you than the navy blue.”
“I just grabbed this one,” he said, sighing inwardly. “I can change if you like.” He had found it was almost always easier just to do as Margaret wished rather than to argue.
“No,” she said, her head tilting slightly as she looked him in the eyes. “No, that’s fine. You are presentable enough, I suppose.”
Presentable enough. Ben took his place beside his mother and waited. He didn’t have to wait long.
As the guests trickled in, Ben and his mother greeted them. It was boring, but at least it was like a finely scripted performance, one he didn’t have to think about. “Good evening. Wonderful to see you. You look fantastic. It is good to see you again. You are looking younger every time I see you. Welcome to our home.” From the other side: “You are looking well, Ben. What have you been up to, young man? When can we expect to attend your wedding? Have you taken an active role in the family business?” and other intrusive questions. Still, it made time pass without him having to participate in any real conversation.
As he greeted the guests, he scanned the entry area for Abigail. He didn’t see her, but that wasn’t unexpected. If she was called into serving duty—that’s where he would put a beautiful young woman if he were in charge—she would be in one of the larger rooms.
After greeting the bulk of the guests, his mother looked at him coolly and jerked her head slightly toward the main ballroom. He understood. He was to mingle now. Suppressing another sigh, he nodded to her and walked slowly toward his task.
As he made his way to the ballroom, Ben’s head swiveled back and forth, eyes scanning the masses of people milling about. His heart sped up with every flash of black and white, but none of the servants carrying trays about were Abigail. Several people spoke to him, but he only made generic statements, not really even thinking about what he was saying, and continued on his way. In the back of his mind, he hoped he hadn’t been rude to anyone. If he had been, he would hear about it from his mother, he had no doubt.
He continued to look around when he got to his destination. His mother wanted him to mingle and make their guests feel welcome, but all he could think about was that red hair and those piercing blue eyes. Where was she?
“Drink, sir?” someone said from his left. It didn’t register in his mind. He kept up his searching.
“Sir?” the voice said again, insistent.
Ben realized the voice had been talking to him. He absently put his hand out toward the voice to get a drink, his head and eyes reluctantly following a moment later. When his attention was fixed on where his hand was, he almost jumped. He was looking right into Abigail’s face.
His eyes widened and his heart leapt. Taking a breath took two tries. “Abbie,” he said, and then realized what had come out of his mouth. “I mean, Miss Henderson. I was looking for…that is…you weren’t…uh, you look fantastic.” He cursed softly under his breath. “I, uh…a drink. Yes. Thank you.” He took a drink and emptied the glass in one long gulp. He replaced the empty glass on the tray and took another.
Abigail was silent, looking slightly breathless and co
mpletely breathtaking. She had one of the fancier maid uniforms on, one that looked tailored for her, a bit more revealing. She was wearing more makeup than normal, too. She looked like she was ready to go to a party herself. Ben realized his eyes had strayed to scanning her, and he felt himself flush. His eyes snapped back to hers.
“I better see if anyone else needs a drink,” she said, her smile at the same time mischievous and pleased, like a cat who had figured out how to get into a bag of treats. She somehow pulled off a graceful curtsy while keeping the tray perfectly level. Tray or not, her fluid movements made the room seem to heat up.
She turned to go but then swung her head around to meet his eyes again. “It was very nice to see you, Master Mason.” She leaned in so that she was only a few inches from him, and he leaned toward her slightly, too. “You look fantastic, too.” She winked so quickly he wasn’t even sure she had done it, and then she was gone.
Ben stood there for a moment, watching her move among the guests, offering drinks and taking empty glasses. He loved the way she moved, loved watching her move. So graceful, almost like water. He couldn’t help but follow her with his eyes. A word popped into his head: sexy.
Remembering where he was, he shook his head and threw back the drink he had in his hand. He surreptitiously flicked his eyes to and fro to see if anyone had noticed him staring at the new maid, but it didn’t seem like anyone had. He breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was for his mother to fire Abigail because he showed interest in her. He’d have to be more careful.
Replaying that smile in his mind, he formed a small smile himself and set about chatting with guests, all the while keeping on the watch for the elusive woman who was so interesting to him.
As he made his rounds, Ben observed the guests and how they interacted. He saw it as a dance. A clumsy one, but a dance all the same. Currents of power and status permeated everything. Those in the higher echelon lorded it over those in the lower and basked in the attention. Those not quite so high scurried around, seeking favor of those above them but stopping occasionally to enjoy their privilege above those beneath them. They all swarmed around those like his mother, trying to curry favor or just experience a small piece of the radiance of the elite.
Water & Flame (Witches of the Elements Series Book 1) Page 7