A Lady and Her Magic (Faerie 1)

“Ashley, I must go,” she said softly as he took a step toward her.

But he reached out and hooked his finger beneath her chin to gently tilt her head up. He looked into her eyes. “Did someone pay you to do this?”

“To do what?”

“This,” he said sharply, gesturing to what she assumed was the here and now.

“You’ll have to define this,” she coaxed. Mission faeries didn’t receive payment for their work. It was their lot in life.

“Did someone pay you to get into my bed, Miss Thorne?” he asked sharply.

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. Why would anyone have to pay me to do such a thing?”

She reached out to smooth the lapels of his coat, taking in the sandalwood scent of him that she couldn’t smell until she got really close. She breathed deeply.

“If someone is guiding your hand in our interactions—” he started.

But she shushed him with a gentle sound as she laid a hand over his heart. It was beating like mad. “No one has to pay me to like you, Ashley,” she said.

He inhaled deeply. “You had better go, Sophia. Your family will be worried. And people will talk.”

“You worry very much about things people say, don’t you, Ashley?”

“When you’ve lived a life like mine…” He didn’t even finish the thought.

“When one has lived a life like yours, I bet one has many interesting stories to tell. I hope I get to hear them while I’m here,” she said, then she bobbed up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek quickly.

“Until later,” she called over her shoulder. She thought she heard him grunt in response.

As Sophia dashed through the corridors, trying to find her way back to her grandmother, she cursed the fates for putting that wind chime in her path. Ashley probably thought she was a complete ninny at this point.

She was a ninny. A very big one. A very big and most ridiculous one. Because she liked the duke even more than she’d thought she would. This was good, but she had a feeling it wasn’t good in a good way. Dash it, she wasn’t even making sense to herself.

Sophia spent half the hour wandering the corridors of the duke’s home, until she found a footman who informed her that her grandmother had been shown to her room for a rest after their arrival. She tiptoed into her own chambers.

“How was your meeting with the duke?” her grandmother asked anxiously from a chair beside the fireplace. Of course, her grandmother would be waiting for her. She was much too nosy to nap like a normal old lady. She’d obviously been knitting in Sophia’s room while she waited. Their house faerie, Margaret, was busy unpacking the meager trunks they’d brought with them.

“I don’t know,” Sophia said. And truly she didn’t. She would have to sit and formulate a plan.

A knock sounded on the door. Margaret moved to open it and stepped aside to admit a footman. Sophia clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.

The footman looked particularly ill at ease, with the long strands of metal balls dangling from his fingertips. “His Grace ordered that these be brought to Miss Thorne and installed outside her window.”

“Oh, my,” her grandmother said, with a stern look in her direction. Everyone knew music would entrance Sophia. But it didn’t typically overload her senses and make her feel light-headed. Not like these chimes had. For some reason, they had a strong effect on her. She’d be worthless every time there was the slightest breeze.

“You’ll have to take them back,” Sophia began.

“One does not send a gift back to His Grace, miss,” the servant informed her, his nose rising in the air.

Very well. Sophia raised a breezy hand at the footman. “Do what you must.”

The man set to work installing the chimes, and Sophia dropped heavily onto the settee. She’d have to tie them together to stop their tinkling. But how thoughtful of Ashley to send them.

“I believe we need to talk,” her grandmother said, her eyes dancing with mischief. If anything, Sophia had expected censure.

“I suppose we do,” Sophia said as she settled deeper into the settee.

Six