Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

C harlie stood on the landing at the top of a grand staircase and gazed at the ballroom below. The opulence and grandeur were more than she had recalled from last year, and even though half the guests had yet to appear, the vast room buzzed with excitement. Charlie sucked in her breath. Many of the guests below had been staying at the manor.

White walls glimmered in warm satiny hues, capturing the flickering light given off by the thousands of candles in the huge candelabras. The ceiling was covered in a deep, iridescent blue fabric giving the illusion of dancing beneath the stars. A sheer tulle woven with silver thread had been used for the drapes that adorned the wall-to-wall windows. At the far end of the ballroom, glass doors opened onto the balcony and the elegant gardens below. The white marble floor sparkled from the reflections of the chandeliers, and luxurious iridescent ivory silk covered chairs and tables and accentuated the room, as if preparing everyone for a bewitching evening. Tables and benches had been strategically placed throughout the room, although the ballroom wasn't packed and only a few couples were dancing.

Rose squeezed her hand in excitement. "Nothing I imagined even comes close to this!" she whispered as she lightly tapped her feet in rhythm to the music. "I feel like Cinderella at the Prince's ball."

Cinderella was a wonderful description. "Grandmama has told me stories of some balls in the past when she was a young girl and they have always been this grand," Charlie said. Rose's unfortunate incident last year must have spoiled her memories of last year's décor, but she wouldn't remind her friend of that. She turned around and spotted her brother and Logan emerging from the welcoming line.

"It seems the Countess of Wharton and Rose's Aunt Agnes are old friends," said Caden as he sauntered up. "Grandmama said she'd be here in a minute and asked us to wait."

"Yes, as soon as she saw her, Lady Drakos pulled her aside and hugged her. Something about being in boarding school together," Logan said, walking up to them.

"Aunt Agnes mentioned on the way here that she thought she knew the countess," Rose commented. "They went to the Academy of Charm together."

"It's the same school most women in our family have all attended," Charlie said, and then wished she hadn't. It was a school that specialized in preparing young witches, and not something she could discuss in front of Logan. At least not yet.

Logan chuckled. "That's an interesting name for a finishing school… I've never heard of it. My younger sister attended Miss Porter's, and she hated every minute she was there. Said it was dreadfully dull."

"I'm certain your sister would have preferred the Academy of Charm," Caden said with a smirk—not covering his amusement at Logan's misunderstanding of the school, but straightened his face when Charlie gave him a look.

"Ah! There you are, my dears," Grandmama said, tapping Caden on the shoulder. "Our dear Agnes and Lady Drakos found themselves going down Memory Lane."

"Yes, yes! It has been so long since we've seen each other," Aunt Agnes said excitedly and with only a hint of contrition. "This has already been such an exciting and surprising night. I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting."

"They should be announcing us in a moment," the dowager murmured. "Going down these stairs is the only chance I must look over the attendees and see who arrived here before me. At least we are one of the earlier arrivals."

"The Earl of Fitzwater, the Dowager Countess Penrose, Viscountess Wilburn, Lady Rose Kenwood, Lady Charlotte Penrose, and Viscount Penrose," bellowed a tall, liveried man from the top step.

Heads turned and whispers began at the announcement of the Earl of Fitzwater. The loud buzz of whispers startled Charlie, who heard some of the questions— Who is he? Is he new to Cornwall? Inexplicably feeling protective and possessive, she fought the impulse to grip his arm a little tighter.

As they stepped onto the dance floor, soft strands of a waltz sounded, and Logan stepped in front of her and reached for her hand. "I wonder if you will do me the honor of this dance, Lady Charlotte?" he asked, seemingly oblivious to the looks and stares around them.

She nodded. "I would love to dance with you, my lord," Charlie said with a shy smile. Worried about leaving Rose, she turned and noticed her friend smiling up at Caden, who had just asked her to dance. She saw Rose touch her necklace just before she placed her hand on Caden's arm. Caden's eyes seemed to be only for Rose. It was the first time she'd seen him smiling at her friend. Thank you, dear brother .

As Logan twirled her onto the dance floor, Charlie looked into his sky-blue eyes and relaxed into his arms. Her skin tingled where he touched her, and a wave of warmth whirled like butterflies in her stomach.

"Perhaps when we finish the dance, we can stroll through the garden. I've heard it's quite beautiful," Logan whispered. "And there's a full moon to light our way."

"Yes, but I should probably check with Grandmama before I leave the ballroom," Charlie breathed, silently chastising herself for her dull-as-ditchwater response. She sounded like a young girl fresh from finishing school. She wanted nothing more than to step outside with Logan and sit beneath the stars.

"I understand," he said. Logan wore a smile, but Charlie could see something else flicker in his eyes.

"The countess is well known for her gardens," Charlie said, hoping to redeem herself. "Everything is lush…almost year-round. Even orange trees grow here, and the trees add a delicious citrus fragrance to the air. The garden is also populated by myriad species of birds and owls. Grandmama said there are so many nightingales and thrushes that if you walk through the garden in the morning, it sounds like nature's orchestra." Unless I miss my guess, Chapelle probably broke her promise to stay in the carriage and will be out there stalking owls—and spying on me.

Nay, mistress. I have been sleeping in the carriage, as promised, the cat replied with a yawn in her voice. But if you will be on the terrace with your handsome lord—perhaps that might hold a promising diversion for me. So far, this entire evening has been as boring as watching Harrison polish the silver.

Charlie tried to ignore Chapelle and closed her eyes as Logan whirled her around the room, delighting in the heady feeling of being in his arms. She did so want to be with him, alone in the garden, under that full moon.

"The dance is ending. I should take you back to your grandmother," Logan said, guiding her with a light touch of his hand on her back as they made their way off the floor.

Charlie glanced across the room and noticed Caden had returned Rose to her aunt, but it seemed Pierce Drakos whisked Rose back onto the floor for the next dance. She delighted in seeing her brother's discomfiture, noting Caden's crossed arms and angry stance— finally, he had noticed Rose . Charlie wished she could keep dancing…but only with Logan. That was why she kept her dance card in her reticule, so she could control who signed it. She knew it was pushing propriety to do so, and she also knew her grandmother would not approve. Dare she risk Grandmama's ire?

"You promised me a second dance," she blurted, throwing caution to the wind.

To her relief, he smiled. "And I intend to make good on that promise. But I'd like to make it a waltz. Anything more difficult may strain the stitches again." He grimaced. "I don't think I could tolerate any more stitches."

I'm such a ninny! Guilt washed over her at her selfishness. He had come here as a favor to her, and here she was trying to force him to dance just because she wanted to be alone with him. "Forgive me, for being so unthinking." She smiled. "I would prefer it be a waltz as well." Then I can enjoy the warmth of being in your arms again.

"Lemonade or champagne?" Logan asked.

"I don't understand?" Charlie replied.

"Instead of a dance, I thought we could enjoy some refreshment before I escort you back to your grandmother," Logan said with a smile.

"Definitely champagne, my lord—Logan," she said, returning his smile.

"I do as well." He winked, snagging two glasses from a passing footman.

He wanted to waltz with Charlie, wanted to twirl her around the dance floor for hours, but his side was throbbing and rather than risk bleeding onto the ballroom floor, he decided it was best to heed the doctor's advice. Dancing had given him an excuse to hold her, touch her, gaze at her; sipping champagne was as good an excuse as he could think of to snatch a few more minutes alone with her. Charlie looked utterly mesmerizing. When he left the welcome line and walked out onto the landing, he saw her standing there with Rose, he was enthralled by her beauty.

After they finished their champagne, Logan set their empty glasses on the tray of a passing footman and then escorted Charlie back to her grandmother, who was at the other end of the ballroom. Logan noticed the dowager speaking to a distinguished-looking gentleman who was partially turned away.

The man turned just as they approached. "Lord Fitzwater, I thought I recognized your name when you entered," Lord Wharton said, extending his hand to Logan. "You may call me Drakos. I answer to either."

"It's nice to finally meet you," Logan said. "My late father mentioned your name often."

"I worked with your father and Lord Penrose on the turnpike project," Wharton amended.

Logan felt himself relax into an easy smile. "Of course! My father was honored to work with you on the turnpike project. Occasionally, I would get letters and he would update me on progress."

"Your late father had some interesting ideas—very modern and efficient," he said. Then he cleared his throat and leaned a little closer. "I heard about your unfortunate brush with a gang of highwaymen recently that forced you to stay in this area. My wife, Lady Drakos and I would be privileged to have you join us and invite you to stay with us as our guest," he said.

"Yes, it was quite unanticipated. And as much as I appreciate your invitation, Wharton, I've been enjoying the wonderful hospitality of the dowager countess and her family. I am healing well and anticipate leaving in a day or so," Logan returned. "Speaking of which, allow me to introduce Lady Charlotte Penrose, granddaughter of the Dowager Countess Penrose.

"A pleasure to meet you again, Lady Charlotte." The earl lifted Charlie's hand to his lips and gave her a charming smile. "We have met at previous functions."

Dash it. Logan noted Charlie's pretty blush as the earl greeted her warmly. Wharton was rumored to have been on every matchmaking mama's list for years until he married Iris. Now his son, Pierce, was looking for a wife and was probably following his father's footsteps, making him high priority on the matchmaking lists. Logan hoped Pierce's name was not on Charlie's dance card or Logan would have had some stiff competition for Charlie's attention.

The thought gave him pause. Is that what I truly want? True, Logan was having a hard time getting through the day without thinking about Charlie every second. But he hadn't had a chance to speak privately with her about his thoughts, feelings or ask her how she felt about him. Bronson had teased him that if he couldn't see that Charlie was in love with him, then his wound must have affected his eyesight too. Perhaps he could convince Charlie to go for a walk in the garden, but he'd have to convince the dowager as well.

"If you find your circumstances change, my invitation stands," the earl said. "My wife had her come out with your mother and considers herself a close friend. We were saddened to hear about your brother's passing."

"Thank you. Losing my brother has been a very difficult adjustment," he said.

Wharton nodded solemnly. "I can imagine the challenges you've faced, coming home to such circumstances. Please, if there is anything we can do to assist you or your mother, please don't hesitate to ask." The earl excused himself to continue his rounds.

Charlie had rejoined her grandmother and Rose's aunt and was whispering excitedly about Caden and Rose. Logan's lips twitched at Charlie's attempts to match-make. But he agreed. Caden and Rose were well suited. Rose's sweet nature would balance Caden's mischievous streak, and Caden's tendency to break the rules of convention would have a positive effect on Rose's tendency toward timidity, Logan thought. He looked about, feeling a crackle of excitement in the air. While the Drakos' ball resembled the ones in London, it also didn't resemble them . It was hard to pinpoint exactly, but things felt different. For one, the decorations.

Lady Wharton had chosen earthier decorations blending trees, greenery, and florals. Nothing about that was novel; many hostesses used natural elements in their decorations—but this was beyond anything he'd ever seen before. Even the dark blue fabric stretched across the ceiling resembled a starry night. And the greenery around the room seemed as vibrant and lush as it would have in mid-summer, and yet, here they were in autumn… And even the trees were lush. He'd glimpsed orange trees in the gardens as he danced with Charlie—but he noticed they had fresh oranges. In November. He'd only ever seen such lush fruit in the south of Italy when he'd gone on his European tour after he'd come down from Oxford.

Still, it was beautiful, and the Drakos were very welcoming. Logan couldn't help but notice at least one thing was the same as in London. The matchmaking mamas were out in full force. Logan could turn in any direction and see a cluster of them staring and whispering. He was relieved when Caden walked his way, farcically reasoning it would be a safe harbor from the gaggle of matchmaking mamas staring at him.

"I just received an urgent message from the sheriff that the highwaymen we hauled into jail have escaped," Caden said, joining him, his face tense with worry. "We should be on the alert."

"How did they escape?" Logan asked.

"I suspect money passed hands." Caden sighed with exasperation. "Although it would be hard to prove. But in these parts, people are distantly related to each other."

It was nothing Logan was unfamiliar with, although it frustrated him to know that the highwayman and his cohorts would no doubt get back to causing more harm and destruction. He and Caden and Bronson would have to be vigilant where Charlie and her family were concerned.

The band struck up another waltz and Logan noted Caden's shoulders stiffen as Pierce Drakos returned Rose back to her aunt. Caden was forever acting nonchalant about Rose, and yet Logan couldn't help but notice the way he looked at her when he thought no one was watching.

"I promised to dance a second waltz with Rose," Caden said, clearing his throat. "She's having a much better go of it this year, and I'd like to get my dance in before things head south."

"And how will things head south , exactly?" Logan asked.

"The woman cast up her accounts all over my trousers and shoes last year. I promised two dances, and I should get the second one in." He shrugged.

"Ah, I see." Logan thought that was just an excuse. Caden seemed eager to dance with Rose again.

"I too promised another waltz with Charlie," Logan said.

Caden said nothing, but Logan didn't miss the sparkle in his eyes. He had heard about twins and their unique ability to communicate. Caden was Charlie's twin and likely knew more than he could or would say. Logan wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but Charlie had come to mean a lot to him. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen when he had to leave. He was planning to head home tomorrow. He missed his mother and his sister, Beth, and there was much to do at the estate. He needed to talk to Charlie tonight.

He and Caden approached the four ladies who'd been engaged in an animated discussion.

"I wondered if you'd forgotten about us," Charlie said with a smile.

"We didn't want to interrupt your discussion," Logan quipped.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Charlie asked.

"Indeed! It has been the most enjoyable evening thus far. I overheard Lord Pierce Drakos tell Lady Clara's brother that he was off to dance with his betrothed. It appears he's asked Lady Clara to be his wife." She nodded, indicating the couple on the floor. "Love is grand, don't you think? It's clear he only has eyes for her."

Logan followed the direction of her nod and noticed the couple dancing. Charlie was right. They did seem to have feelings for one another, he realized, feeling slightly foolish where his earlier jealousy over Drakos had been concerned. "I hope you will make the evening even more enjoyable by dancing the next waltz with me."

Charlie seemed to hesitate and glanced at her grandmother, who inclined her head and smiled.

She turned back to him, and her extraordinary green eyes glittered like emeralds under the glow of thousands of candles. "I would love to," she whispered.

"I don't forget my promises," he whispered back as he looped her arm through his and whisked her onto the dance floor. "I've noticed that this ball is quite unique and different from others I've attended," he finally said.

Charlie's head jerked up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, things are different—subtle, but different."

"Perhaps we should take that walk in the gardens you mentioned earlier," Charlie murmured.

Elated to have her beside him with or without music, he agreed. "Let's go back and tell your grandmother where we're going." They walked back to the dowager and Aunt Agnes, who were seated with several other older matrons. "I'd like to escort Lady Charlotte for a turn around the garden, if that is permissible, Lady Penrose."

"We were just thinking of stepping out onto the veranda…"

"We were?" Agnes asked.

"Yes, Agnes. We, just this minute talked about it. Anyway, the garden is well-lit, and I think it would be fine," the dowager said.

Logan readily agreed.

As he and Charlie walked ahead through the garden, they rounded a corner. Looking up, he noticed how the sky had an iridescent quality about it, like the blue silk ceiling in the ballroom. The full moon was bright and even if there hadn't been hundreds of lamps lining their path, it would have offered ample illumination. Grasping her hand, he tugs her into a quiet corner shielded from the view of the balcony and the illuminating gas lamps. "It's a night made for magic," he commented, softly.

She whipped her head around with a surprised look on her face. "What do you mean?" she blurted.

"I mean the night sky," he indicated with a slight gesture. "It's beautiful, but I've discovered there's a beauty that even the prettiest night sky doesn't compete with."

"Um…wh…what are you talking about?"

He took a step closer and, tracing the delicate line of her chin said, "I mean you."

She opened and closed her mouth, still staring wide-eyed.

"We may have found the only place in the garden that isn't well-lit." His finger gently lifted her chin. "I wonder if you might permit me to kiss you." In his dreams, there had almost been kisses, and he wanted that kiss.

She gazed into his eyes. "I…yes…I would like that."

He smiled and leaned down, gently brushing his lips with hers…teasing. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he pressed a gentle finger on her lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and he leaned in.

Logan captured her mouth in a hungry kiss, and feeling her breathy sigh against his lips, kissed her deeply. Playfully joining his tongue with hers, he reveled in the taste of her. Like sweet nectar. A soft moan escaped her as she wrapped her hands around his neck, twirling her fingers through the hair at his nape. Her touch sent a strange feeling through his body, something he had never felt before, and his heart beat a wild tattoo in his chest. Logan had kissed and been with many women, but this was different. This was new. This was Charlie. His arms pulled her closer and his breath quickened as he deepened the kiss. All he wanted was for this moment to last forever. Just him and Charlie. Everything else fell away until heavy footsteps crunching gravel and voices nearby jolted him from his fiery reverie.

For a moment he stared into her green eyes, trying to slow his breathing. "I couldn't waste that beautiful moon, the glow of a million stars, and being alone with you. That kiss felt magical."

"Well, this is Halloween," Charlie said hoarsely.

He blew out a slow, calming breath and smiled. "Perhaps that would explain the verdant plant life here and the flowering fruit." He pointed toward the line of orange trees that filled in the far corner of the property. "The air is cool as it should be at this time of year and yet there is such a profusion of fruit the likes of which I've only ever seen in greenhouses in England. How can that be?"

Charlie nibbled on her lower lip and seemed to hesitate. Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes serious. "Can I be honest?"

Surprised by her forthright question but intrigued, he nodded. "Yes."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What you don't know…or perhaps you may have wondered…is that the women in my family—a large group of women in this part of England—are natural witches," she finished in a rush. "With only a few exceptions, most of the men are mortal," she added in a more sedate tone.

Speechless. He was utterly without words. It was his turn to expel a deep breath. "I'm not sure what I was expecting, but that wasn't it," he said. Yes, Charlie's family was a trifle eccentric, and Charlie herself was unlike any woman he'd ever met, which only added to her charm, but he did not know that she could craft a charm or a spell or whatever witches did. Then he remembered it all in a flash—Caden and Charlie suddenly swooping in, dressed in black, leaping at the highwaymen. They had the skill and abilities of the finest soldiers he'd marched with. It was understandable that Caden had that level of strength and skill, but for Charlie, it could only have been magic. He recalled his fevered dreams of beautiful, catlike green eyes surrounded by long waves of striking silvery hair…

He shook off his wayward thoughts and met Charlie's gaze. Her beautiful green eyes were now brimming with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, Charlie grasped the folds of her dress and fled from the garden.