Moonspun Magic (Magic Trilogy 3)

They toured the house. The rooms on the ground floor were dark and gloomy, fulfilling Victoria’s pessimistic expectations, but with the removal of the ghastly cabbage-rose wall coverings in the main drawing room and the burning of the intensely ugly puce brocade draperies that hovered over nearly every downstairs window, the main floor would become charming. As for the rooms above stairs, they were, to Victoria’s mind, nearly ready for occupation, save for the musty, closed-up smell. The master bedchamber was a huge L-shaped room filled with light and a clear prospect of the distant cliff and the ocean.

“I think our bed should go right there,” Rafael said in her ear, pointing. “We could wake up and go to sleep looking at the ocean.”

“That’s a wonderful place,” she said, and gave him a smile that made him want to toss Mr. Rinsey out on his solicitor’s ear and toss his wife onto her back.

The grounds hadn’t enjoyed a gardener’s hand in many a month, but again, Victoria thought, there were possibilities. Excitement grew within her. Drago Hall wasn’t hers, never had been. But this could be hers and she could place her mark on it.

“Where are the ruins of that castle?” Victoria said.

“Wolfeton? Just over there, if I’m not mistaken. Excuse me, Mr. Rinsey. We’ll return shortly.”

It had been a mighty medieval keep, the east tower the only one of the four not completely crumbled. Massive and tall it was. And dangerous.

“This was the inner bailey,” Rafael said, “and that was where the great oak doors used to be. Can’t you just imagine the lord riding his huge destrier going into battle yelling ’De Moreton! De Moreton!’ ”

Victoria’s eyes were as dreamy as her husband’s voice. “Yes, and I recall that keeps of this size housed literally hundreds of people. Is there a graveyard hereabouts?”

“Probably, but I don’t know where.”

“It will cost us a lot of money to refurbish the manor house,” Victoria said carefully, stopping to look up at Rafael.

“Yes, and even more money to get the tin mines back to full operation.”

“We would need the ongoing income from the tin mines for the upkeep of the property.”

He smiled down at her. Smart lady, his wife. No problem with tin mining, even though it smacked of trade. He had a great deal of contempt for those gentlemen who turned up their blue-blooded noses at men like himself who had earned their own fortunes. It appeared his wife held his views.

Victoria fell silent. They walked to St. Agnes Head along the well-worn footpath. Rafael sucked in his breath and pointed. “It’s at least a thirty-mile sweep of the Atlantic coast and we can see all of it

. That is St. Ives, and far distant is Trevose Head. It’s exquisite, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and untamed and savage and exciting. I should like to live here, Rafael.”

“Should you, now, Victoria? Well, perhaps we can manage it.”

“Do you wish to take the part of my inheritance from the trust for our children? We could put it to better use now, I believe.”

He gave her a very affectionate, tender smile. “You and I will sit down and make out interminable lists. Then we will see what amounts we need. All right?”

She nodded happily, and walked to the very edge of the cliff. She said over her shoulder, “Do you truly believe you would be happy here, managing our tin mines and not captaining the Seawitch?”

“To faraway, exotic places where beautiful women abound?”

“I wish you would let out your brain another notch.”

“Very well, ma’am. Yes, I think so.”

Victoria smiled at him, and he watched her run her hand over a stunted bowed tree just to her left. He watched her draw in deep breaths of the wonderfully sharp ocean breeze.

He wanted to tell her in that instant that he knew he could be content anywhere so long as she was with him.

Rafael stood where he was, saying nothing, continuing to watch his wife. She was proving to be an ideal mate, he reflected. Passionate in his bed, sharing his tastes and his dreams. Yes, all was going just as he wanted. Except for that damned confession of hers. And that ugly malformed toe—or whatever the devil she considered ugly about her body. He’d meant to look early that morning before she’d awakened, but she’d been awake and dressed before he’d cracked an eye open.

“I’ve decided to keep you, despite everything.”

He’d come up noiselessly behind her. She felt him draw her against his back, and relaxed against him.

“Why?”