“Nonsense,” the Colonel blustered. “She never told me such a thing.”
“Perhaps not,” Fen said, “but she told me.”
“Come now, Andromeda was a mere child when her mother passed from this life, and you were a scrubby schoolboy. My wife wouldn’t have discussed her daughter’s future with you.”
“And yet she did,” Fen said.
“Oh, Fen,” Andromeda said doubtfully. “Did she truly?”
Fen smiled, thinking how much he loved her, wondering how she could ever imagine he didn’t. “She did. She said you were... unusual, and that I would understand you better than any other man.”
She eyed him, some unidentifiable pain in her eyes, and her face crumpled. What had he said to cause that? She threw herself into his arms. Against his chest, she said, “You do, Fen. And you always will.”
He lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her softly, gently this time. In the grate, the fire flared with a cascade of crackles and an eager roar. Andromeda pushed back, paling.
Fen held her firmly. “That’s a happy fire,” he said in her ear.
“How very affecting,” the marquis said with a sniff. “I suppose, since the two of you fancied yourself in love at one time, that a romantic reunion will sufficiently account for your sudden marriage. I daresay if my wife and I welcome Fen back into the bosom of the family in spite of his connection with trade, those worth caring about will follow close behind. Do you agree, Colonel?
Gibbons was staring at the fire, but now he turned, his eyes uneasy. Fen met his gaze with his own determined one. At last the colonel nodded. “Yes, I agree. I want my daughter to be happy.” Then he burst out, “But I don’t want her living above a shop!”
Fen stifled a laugh. “Fear not, sir, I shall find a suitable house for my bride.” He couldn’t resist adding, “Since there’s not enough room above the shop for a family.”
“Mind your manners, Fen,” the marquis said. “I shall arrange for a special license. The wedding will take place at my town house tomorrow morning. If that meets with your approval?”
Manners be damned. “And Harry Wellcome? May he return?”
“Of course, of course,” the marquis said with an irritated huff. “I shall take my leave of you now, to see how my operatives are faring with the French spies. I’ll send someone to retrieve Lord Slough’s remains.” He left, shutting the door softly behind him.
Andromeda said, “Papa, I’m sorry if this upsets you, but I love Fen.”
Her father seemed more than upset—almost frightened. His eyes wide and worried, he glanced from her to the fire and back, and to the blackened coat sleeve.
Andromeda exchanged glances with Fen and said to her father, “I’m more like my mother than you knew.”
“I hoped and prayed you wouldn’t be,” Papa said. “Oh, my poor, poor child.”
“It’s a good thing, Papa,” Andromeda said. “Because of my fire magic—”
Papa gave a sharp hiss of dismay.
Andromeda’s heart twisted. “I shan’t discuss it if you prefer, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”
“Perhaps not,” Papa said, “but it’s unnatural. People will find you strange, and there will be talk.”
It’s not unnatural. But she didn’t say so. “Because of it, I saved myself from French assassins,” she told him. “Luckily, Fen arrived before I had to do worse to Lord Slough.”
“Thank God for that.” Papa blew out a tired breath. “I hoped you would be spared your dear Mama’s, er, magic, but she told me I didn’t have any say in the matter. As usual, she was right.” He smiled with a little of his customary spirit. “Just don’t try to explain it to Aunt Mattie.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
IT WAS THE following afternoon. The wedding ceremony and subsequent breakfast had gone smoothly, in spite of the Overwood House hobgoblin doing its best to make both Fen and Andromeda collapse into giggles at a solemn moment. Andromeda couldn’t see the hob clearly, but she’d caught his antics out of the corner of her eye. One day soon, she hoped, her Sight would return fully.
She’d been thrilled and happy to learn that Witherstone was actually her husband’s business partner. Once more in women’s clothing, her hair restored to its natural color, she curled up next to Fen on a newly-finished sofa she’d had them move to the rooms above the shop.
“A sofa... hmm. You’re already expecting to kick Fen out of the bedchamber?” Harry jested from his chair across from them.
“Never!” she’d said. She couldn’t believe her luck—and she still blushed for shame when she thought of how she’d almost believed Lord Slough.
They all, including Cuff, missed the pastries from Laborde’s, but today they were content sipping and munching on macaroons. She had already set one of the macaroons on a plate by the door.
“I’ve got news for you,” Harry said with a grin. “I’ve been asked to work for the government.”
“I sense the relentless hand of my father,” Fen sighed. “Doing what?”
“Spying—what else?” Harry made a face. “The waiter who drugged me is one of our agents. He’d twigged who I really was and thought I was working for the French. He recommended me after I killed three French spies single-handed and saved his life.”
Andromeda gasped. “Three?”
“I’m good with a knife,” Harry said modestly.
“You killed Laborde?” Fen said.
Harry nodded. “A quick death—better than if they’d arrested him.” He shrugged. “He was your friend.”
“Thank you,” Fen said, his face bleak.
The marquis had held true to his word, and Lady Overwood had immediately set about a story that Andromeda, fearing Lord Slough’s violence, had fled to her before returning home, where Lord Slough had attacked her and Fen had saved her. Since the hero always wins the lady, even the starchiest ladies sighed over such a romantic story. But it wasn’t fair if Fen gained a wife only to lose his business partner.
“Are you going to take the job?” Fen asked, a hint of trepidation in his voice.
“Aye, they need someone who can root out the genuine seditionists from amongst the honest men who seek rational change.” Harry laughed. “Those were your father’s very words. He wants me to keep it a secret from you.”
“Then... you’ll continue on in the shop?” Fen said.
“That will be my ‘cover,’ Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows, and Andromeda let out a sigh of relief. “He ordered me to take proper care of you and your new wife, and to keep you away from what he calls undesirables. No more spying, he says, for you. You’re unfit for that dirty sort of work.”
“Sorry, Harry, but the leopard can’t change his spots,” Fen said.
“I think he has, Fen,” Andromeda said, “in some small ways. He and your mother have welcomed you back into the family.”
“Because of you,” Fen said.
“Perhaps, but he also ordered—and paid for—the roll-top desk.”
“True,” Fen said. “Let’s see whether he uses it or relegates it to the schoolroom. Or an attic.”
“He won’t do that,” she said. “Your father is stubborn and opinionated, but he knows a beautiful piece of furniture when he sees it.”
“He also knows Harry and I are equal partners—I’ve told him so often enough,” Fen said. “How dare he suggest that Harry is only fit for dirty work?”
“I don’t think that’s what he meant,” Andromeda said. “He’s your father, so naturally he wants to protect you.”
“You’re just jealous that he doesn’t want you to be a spy, too,” Harry said, chuckling. “I’d best go back to the showroom. We’ll have a flood of customers today, trying to nose out the gossip.” He stood, grabbed a macaroon, and left.
For a while Fen and Andromeda nestled quietly together on the sofa. Should I tell him? Andromeda wondered. Shame ate away at her at how she’d almost believed Slough.
Fen had lapsed into one of the long, contempla
tive silences she remembered so well. What was he thinking about? Did he realize what she’d almost done?
“What’s inside the locket?” he asked suddenly.
She glanced down; she’d been toying with it again. “Nothing. It used to contain my mother’s magic, but I can tell that it’s not there anymore. She told me to call on it only if I truly needed its help. I think that’s when the magic left the locket and came to me.”
“You called on it when you found out Slough was a traitor?”
“Yes, for a few terrified seconds. I didn’t think I believed in it, but I suppose I must have, deep down.” She bit her lip. “I understand now why it didn’t work the first time.”
“Which first time?”
“Five years ago, when you refused to bed me, I tried to call on my mother’s magic to make you love me. I assume it didn’t work because I didn’t truly need it. I was merely a foolish, besotted girl. The next time we met, you shunned me.”
“Magic can be contrary when it’s used for the wrong reasons,” he said. “But you weren’t to know.”
“I paid dearly for my mistake,” she said. “Five unhappy years of trying to deny both love and magic... But perhaps it was for the best, because you started your furniture shop, as you wished.” She fiddled with the catch of the locket, but it didn’t open. It never had, no matter how often she’d tried.
He reached over and fingered it. “Doesn’t the catch work?”
She sighed. “No, which is worrisome. Sometime in the future, I’ll have to put my own magic in there to pass to a daughter of my own, but how?”
“Let me see,” he said. She leaned forward for him to undo the clasp behind her neck and take the locket in his hand. He slipped a thumbnail into the slot—the same slot she’d tried many times without success—and the locket popped open. “You’re right, it’s empty.”
“How did you do that?” she cried.
“You saw what I did,” he said, flipping the locket shut and opening it again. “Maybe it wasn’t supposed to open until you fell in love and married.”
All at once, she couldn’t take it anymore. Tears welled up. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Fen. How could you help but believe Donald Crockett? Lord Slough told me you were the traitor, and for a second I—I almost believed him.” She wiped the tears away. “I knew he was a horrid man, and yet...” She took a breath. “At least you had the excuse of being lied to by a trusted friend. I had no excuse at all.”
Fen pulled her closer. “You’re weeping over a second’s doubt? Sweetheart, I believed the worst of you for five whole years.” He paused, pondering. “Although now that I think of it, magic may have played a part in that. Crockett apologized, saying he didn’t know what came over him. He seems to have regretted it afterwards but was too embarrassed to confess.”
She stared. “He told me the same thing—that the words just popped out of his mouth. Do you think that was a result of my calling upon magic when I shouldn’t have?”
“Yes,” he said, “I do. If I’d been less distressed, I might have recognized that something unusual was in play. It was definitely odd, because the decision to go into trade was made for me—like magic. I should have known that that’s precisely what it was.”
“So in a way my first attempt did work, just not the way I wanted it to. I already loved you, and you already loved me, but we were prevented from acting on it.”
“Right, because perverse magic couldn’t counteract our love, only postpone it. There’s no stronger magic than love.”
Her mind whirled. “That’s what my mother said!”
“She told me the same,” Fen said. “You weren’t quite sure whether to believe me, were you? Did you think I made up that story about your mother wanting me to marry you?”
“I wondered,” she said. “I thought you were just trying to convince Papa to accept you.”
“She was concerned about your future. She knew the perils of magic, and that if ever you called upon it, you would do better with a husband who accepted you as you were. She told me I would open your heart.”
“Which you did in more ways than one.” She closed the locket again and treasured it in her cupped hands.
“I didn’t think much about it at the time,” he said. “I was only a boy, years away from marriage. But I never forgot what she said, and when I came home and saw you...”
“It was the same for me,” she said. “One look, and I knew I was yours forever. And no matter how foolishly I behaved—”
“And I,” he said. “We both could have done better.”
“But it didn’t matter in the end, because love is the greatest magic of all.”
THE END
About the Author
Winner of the Holt Medallion, Maggie, Daphne du Maurier, Reviewer’s Choice and Epic awards, Barbara Monajem wrote her first story at eight years old about apple tree gnomes. She published a middle-grade fantasy when her children were young, then moved on to paranormal mysteries and Regency romances with intrepid heroines and long-suffering heroes (or vice versa).
Barbara loves to cook, especially soups. There are only two items on her bucket list: to make asparagus pudding (because it’s too weird to resist) and succeed at knitting socks. She’ll manage the first but doubts she’ll ever accomplish the second. This is not a bid for immortality but merely the dismal truth. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia with an ever-shifting population of relatives, friends, and feline strays.
I hope you enjoyed reading Lady of the Flames. If you can spare the time, please do me the favor of posting a review on the site where you bought it (such as Amazon.com) or on Goodreads. Reviews are very helpful to authors, and we really appreciate them!
If you’d like to know when my new releases are available, please follow me @BarbaraMonajem on Twitter, find me on Facebook, or sign up for my newsletter via the contact form on my website, www.BarbaraMonajem.com. I’d love to hear from you!
Here is a sampling of my recent publications in the Regency genre:
TO KISS A RAKE (Scandalous Kisses, Book 1)
When a lady is abducted by mistake...
Melinda Starling doesn’t let ladylike behavior get in the way of true love. She’s secretly helping with an elopement, when she’s tossed into the waiting coach and driven away by a notorious rake.
Revenge really doesn’t pay.
Miles Warren, Lord Garrison, comes from a family of libertines, and he’s the worst of them all—or so society believes. When Miles helps a friend to run away with an heiress, it’s an entertaining way to revenge himself on one of the gossips who slandered him.
Except that he drives off with the wrong woman... and as if that wasn’t scandalous enough, he can’t resist stealing a kiss.
http://www.amazon.com/Kiss-Rake-Scandalous-Kisses-ebook/dp/B00ZAY07OK/
THE RAKE’S IRISH LADY (Scandalous Kisses, Book 2)
One Wild Night . . .
Widowed and lonely, Bridget O’Shaughnessy Black indulges herself in a night of pleasure.
After all, she’s in disguise. And the baby girl? An unexpected blessing... until an old flame claims the child as his own to force Bridget to marry him.
One Determined Lady. . .
Many women pursued Colin Warren, but only one climbed in his bedchamber window. When Bridget does it for the second time, she needs his help. Colin believes he’s unfit to be a parent, yet he has no choice but to acknowledge the little girl.
Risking Everything for Love
Together they must solve the mystery of the old flame’s intentions. But can they reconcile their divided loyalties—Irish and English—through the power of love?
http://www.amazon.com/Rakes-Irish-Lady-Scandalous-Kisses-ebook/dp/B018GK893U/
THE CHRISTMAS KNOT (originally released in the anthology Captivated by His Kiss)
Widowed and destitute, Edwina White takes a position as governess in a remote village in the north of England—in a haunted house. She’s so desperate that she’ll take anythi
ng, and besides, she doesn’t believe in ghosts. Little does she know that her new employer is the seducer who lied and deceived her many years ago.
Sir Richard Ballister inherited an estate with a ghost and a curse, and every governess he hires leaves within a week. Finally, a woman desperate enough to stay arrives on his doorstep—but she’s the seductress who dropped him many years earlier for a richer man.
The last thing Richard and Edwina want is to work together, but they have no choice. Can they overcome the bitterness of the past in time to unravel a centuries-old knot and end the Christmas curse?
http://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Knot-Slightly-Regency-Mystery-ebook/dp/B016YXO8YA/
LORD QUICKTHORN’S BARGAIN (in the anthology Passionate Promises)
Sensible Gwen Appleby is aghast when her foolish sister vows to pursue the notorious rake, Lord Quickthorn. To save her sister from certain ruin, she turns to her friend, the custodian of the fairy well. A simple spell, making Lord Quickthorn indifferent to her sister’s beauty, is all that’s required.
But Gwen’s friend is no longer at the well, and the new, mischievous, very male custodian agrees on one condition: Lord Quickthorn will turn his seductive wiles on Gwen instead. To save her sister’s virtue, must Gwen sacrifice her own? Worse, will the promise of passion make her long to do so?
http://www.amazon.com/Passionate-Promises-Passion-Embracing-Anthology-ebook/dp/B01866XFA6/
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/passionate-promises-victoria-vane/1122866691
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1053310931
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/passionate-promises-1
And if you’d like to try my contemporary paranormal mystery/romances, why not start with BACK TO BITE YOU, the prequel novella in the Bayou Gavotte series?
Is this love – or murder?
When vampire Mirabel Lane goes to Bayou Gavotte to hide out from the mobster she just dumped, the last thing she expects is to inherit a house. No, make that the second to last thing. What she really doesn’t expect is to fall for the previous owner’s hunky grandson.
A Most Peculiar Season Series Boxed Set: Five Full-length Connected Novels by Award-winning and Bestselling Authors Page 62