Chapter 27

“D o you wish to know your future, miss?” asked old Mrs. Baird from her rocking chair, her hands resting upon the gnarled end of her cane. It was said that wisdom came with age, but in this case, mischief more than maturity gleamed in the woman’s eyes, and the corner of Angelica’s lips curled slightly.

“I feel quite confident that I know my future already,” she said.

“No one knows the future,” argued Mr. Knight.

“My life has rarely altered from one year to the next,” replied Angelica. Then, with a light tone, she added, “And if you wish to remain on my good side, sir, you’d best not throw in with Mrs. Baird. She is forever predicting grand things for me, and I am already peeved that you have brought me within her grasp.”

Mrs. Baird gave a throaty laugh that was nearing a cackle. “Too late, Miss Callaghan. What else is New Year’s for than to divine the future? In the depth of winter, the spirits are their most active, you know.”

In the far side of the barn, the musicians were still plying their trade, and though the solid stone at their feet did not reverberate with the dance steps, the dancers’ claps and whoops punctuated the melody drifting through the air. While much of the crowd gathered around the refreshments, a good many were availing themselves of the grand entertainment for the evening.

With the New Year dawning, everyone was transfixed with doing everything (except that which was practical) to ensure good fortune for the coming year.

“What does it matter? Time passes fast enough, and in a blink, we will be right here again in twelve months,” said Angelica. “I am not so impatient that I cannot wait to see for myself.”

“It is all a bit of fun,” said Mr. Knight. “And I’ve been reassured that Mrs. Baird truly has the gift .”

Angelica glanced at the looking glasses hung along the wall and the candles burning beside them, each of which had someone standing before it, staring into the reflection and attempting to decipher the shadows and shapes into a sign.

Further down, a trio of young ladies readied themselves for ducking apples, their greedy eyes fixed on the fruit bobbing in a barrel of water, desperate to be the first to pluck the apple up with their teeth and prove themselves to be the next one destined to marry. With the signal given, they shoved their heads towards the fruit whilst struggling to keep their gowns and coiffures free of the mess. A cheer rose as the victorious one pulled the apple from her mouth and held it aloft before her eyes fell to a gentleman in the crowd, and Angelica guessed he was the husband Miss Jewell hoped to snare with that harbinger. But judging from how Mr. Irwin was gazing at Miss Kerr, Angelica thought it would take more than a fortune-telling apple to force his hand.

“Come now, I am certain you will rest easier knowing that a massive fortune is coming your way,” said Mr. Knight, drawing her attention back to him and Mrs. Baird.

Angelica huffed but followed his prodding as he motioned her forward. Before she could fetch a coin, Mr. Knight handed one over whilst ignoring the censorious look Angelica gave him. But one ought not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she gratefully accepted his gesture and a teacup full of steeped mint leaves with a touch of honey. If nothing else, she appreciated the refreshment; the aroma and taste were invigorating—as was watching Mr. Knight tease Mrs. Baird enough to make the old woman blush.

Laughing into the liquid, she finished off most of it, swirled the cup as instructed, and flipped it over, dumping the last drops onto the accompanying saucer. Giving a considering hum befitting the greatest of seers, Mrs. Baird took the cup and considered the remnant leaves that stuck to the sides of the porcelain.

“Ah! This is clear as day, my girl,” she said with a bright smile.

As Angelica was nearing the threshold when she was closer to forty than thirty, she didn’t think the term “girl” applied to her. But when it was given from lips that had twice as many years as she, there was no arguing that point.

Turning the cup toward Angelica to point out a clump that looked identical to all the other nonsensical shapes, she added, “Matrimony is in your future. I am certain of it.”

Angelica huffed a laugh. “Is this the fourth or fifth husband you’ve predicted for me?”

Mrs. Baird gaped, her cane cracking against the stone as she huffed. “Cheeky girl. I ought to let you flounder in ignorance.”

“But that wouldn’t be nearly as diverting,” replied Angelica.

With a tsk, the woman’s expression and voice changed once more to the mysterious affectation one expected of a fortune-teller. “I see a pair of initials here.”

“Is that so?” asked Angelica, looking at the misshapen lump.

“Most definitely,” Mrs. Baird whispered, leaning into it. “J and K. Do those mean anything to you?”

“Not a thing,” she replied in a monotone.

“A J and a K?” said Mr. Knight, his spine straightening as he tugged at his waistcoat and preened like a peacock. “Such interesting initials, don’t you think, Miss Callaghan?”

“Not in the slightest, sir.”

But rather than being cowed, the gentleman donned the same rascally expression he’d bestowed on Mrs. Baird just moments ago, which earned him a scoff from Angelica and a titter from the woman who had enough years to her name that she ought to recognize flim-flam when she saw it. Mr. Knight bowed low over Mrs. Baird’s hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles, which earned him even more blushing laughter as she batted the gentleman away.

“Off with you now, you scamp. Go show our Miss Callaghan a good time.”

“That I will,” he replied, but Angelica ignored his hand and leaned close to press a kiss on Mrs. Baird’s cheek.

“Don’t be stubborn, my girl,” the woman whispered, causing Angelica to linger close. “You are not your parents, and your fellow seems a nice sort. Give him a chance.”

“He is not my fellow,” whispered Angelica.

“He would be if you allowed it.”

Straightening, she looked down and found Mrs. Baird’s kind features pulled into deep furrows of a frown, her eyes watching Angelica with far more concern than she wanted to see.

Angelica cleared her throat and stepped back. “I apologize that I haven’t visited of late—”

“You have enough to manage at present. Do not give me a second thought,” she said with a wave of her hand. Then, with a sparkle of laughter in her eyes, Mrs. Baird added, “Though I wouldn’t say no to a visit from you and your young man after Twelfth Night when you have a moment.”

With Mr. Knight behind her and only Mrs. Baird able to see, Angelica winced and then narrowed her eyes on the old woman, who looked as unrepentant as the rascal at her back. Turning away from the pair of miscreants, she wandered around the others seeking enlightenment for the coming year, watching as Mrs. Thayer stared into the candlelight with such intensity that her eyes started to cross.

“J and K,” said Mr. Knight at her elbow. “Quite interesting.”

“I am glad you think so. The last time she read my leaves, Mrs. Baird said I was bound to marry a hideous man who had not an ounce of sense and was going to die a tragic death shortly after our marriage. Now, I need only find a man who fits that description and whose name begins with a J and a K…” Angelica’s voice trailed off, and with brows raised high in surprise, she turned innocent eyes toward her companion. “You do not suppose she means you, do you?”

Leaning closer, Mr. Knight lowered his voice and held her gaze as he said, “Tease all you like, Miss Callaghan. As I have said before, I find you deeply amusing.”

For all that he spoke lightly, there was a richness to his voice and a gentleness to his gaze that made Angelica’s humor falter as her breath stilled. All thoughts fled as she stood trapped before him, both unable to move and unable to think why she would want to. Angelica couldn’t describe the expression on his face, but her quickening pulse made her stomach sink—though she couldn’t say why it would do such a thing. The world stilled, the noise of the party drifting away from her as she held his gaze.

Mr. Knight stepped away, his eyes breaking from hers, and air swept into Angelica’s lungs once more as that unease she’d ignored built, seeping into her muscles and leaving her feeling lightheaded.

“Despite all your naysaying, there is no reason Mrs. Baird would know my first initial,” he added, giving her another brow waggle. “How could she have settled on J if not for fate intervening?”

“I am not going to deign to answer that, Mr. Knight—”

“Are you two enjoying the fortune-telling?” called Thomas as he came up beside them, his wife on his arm.

“We were just visiting with Mrs. Baird,” said Mr. Knight, nodding back toward where the woman sat.

Clearing her throat, Angelica hurried to add, “It has been a lovely evening. How are you enjoying it?”

“This is such a charming party,” added Charity as she leaned closer to one of the looking glasses.

“Ah, have the tea leaves disclosed your future, dear sister?” asked Thomas with a raise of his brows.

His wife huffed at that. “As the men are mostly told they are to make hordes of money and the women are promised dashing husbands and healthy children, I can guess what Angelica was told.”

Turning his smile to his wife, Thomas leaned close, his voice lowering until it felt as though the others were intruding on a private moment. “Christmas is a good time for love, after all.”

Thomas lifted her hand from his arm and pressed a kiss to her knuckles as she tsked, shaking her head with another huff at the display.

Returning to his normal voice, he glanced at Angelica and Mr. Knight. “Christmas has done well for me, and I am convinced there is magic in the air that brings hearts together.”

Angelica’s brows drew tight together as her brother waxed poetic on the subject with nearly as much fervor as their father. And something in his tone and the way he kept peering at her and Mr. Knight had her ribs constricting.

“You think Mrs. Baird possesses the magic to predict the future?” asked Angelica in a cold tone. “Or did someone bribe her to tell me the future they want for me?”

Thomas affected a bewildered expression, his forehead so furrowed with confusion that Angelica might believe it genuine if not for Charity at his side, whose attempt was half-hearted at best. Her brother glanced at his bride and winced, and holding up a placating hand, he tried to speak—but Angelica turned and stormed away.

“Come now, don’t be angry,” he said, following after her with Charity and Mr. Knight on their heels.

Spinning about, Angelica scowled. “You muck about in my life, toying with me, and I shouldn’t be angry? You and the rest of the family ought to keep your opinions to yourselves.”

Thomas sighed, his shoulders falling. “I’ve been silent all these weeks, watching you make a mess of this possibility standing before you, and I knew you would growl and snap at me if I dared to broach the subject, but I see you making the mistake I almost did—”

“What do you know about it?” asked Angelica in a cold tone, her expression hardening. “You know nothing about me.”

Drawing a breath through his nose, Thomas let it out as though calming himself before speaking in an even tone. “I would like to, but you won’t allow it.”

Angelica scoffed. “You’ve squandered years of opportunities. You cannot swan into my life now and expect me to embrace you as a beloved brother when you never wrote to me. Not once!”

“You are one to talk!” spat Thomas in a low growl of a tone. “I always thought you couldn’t write because of the cost, but you are quite willing to spend every last cent you have on paper—but for other people.”

Holding up a warning finger, Angelica whispered, “Don’t you dare lecture me, Thomas Callaghan. You haven’t earned the right.”

Eyes started turning their way, though they pretended to be quite intrigued by their conversations, and Angelica forced herself to breathe. Turning in place, she swept away, and though she didn’t know whether it was Charity or good sense that kept her brother from following (and it was likely the former, as he hadn’t an ounce of the latter), Thomas remained where he was.