Bewitching the Duke

Mia shook her head. “It’s far better than my poor sister’s name.”

Selina had to agree with that. Hestia was not the prettiest of names but the shortened version of Tia suited the woman just fine.

Mia looked down at the cart and said, “That should be enough. Did you bring a sacrifice?”

Selina felt the heat of embarrassment cross her cheeks. “I pilfered one of his books when I was in the house for the cleansing.”

“It is supposed to be something of meaning to him. It should be given by him.”

“Well, that is not about to happen. He is barely civil with me. It is a book of sonnets that I found on a table in the library. I’m sure he’s read it, but I doubt he’ll miss them. What did you bring?”

“The earl sent me a lock of his hair for the fire.”

Selina smiled, wondering if her friend would ever see that the earl was smitten with her. “That should work. That leaves Tia.”

“That girl will probably show up empty-handed just like last year.”

“As a matter of fact, I happen to have a handkerchief that belongs to Middleton,” Tia said from behind them.

They both turned and hugged the third wise woman. While Tia never seemed to recognize the importance of her position, at least she put in an appearance when needed. The wild redhead looked nothing like her brown-haired twin, except for the soulful brown eyes they both received from their father.

“Let’s get the fire ready for tonight,” Mia said as they pushed the cart up the small hill.

Every year on the summer solstice, they performed the same ritual their mother and grandmothers had for centuries. Standing at the intersection of all three properties, they marked off twenty paces and drew a circle around them. During the ceremony, each wise woman would stand in the circle on the land where she belonged.

They tossed the kindling down and then stacked the wood around it. The fire had to be large enough to cover all three properties. They lit their lanterns and waited for midnight.

As the air cooled and darkened, they finally lit the bonfire. Each woman chanted a blessing for the land, the rain, and the crops just as their mothers had before them. Circling the fire, they sprinkled grains for a healthy harvest into the fire and watched as they sparked upward into the night sky.

Selina smiled as the embers shimmered in the air. It would be a good growing year. And hopefully, the tenants—and the duke—would be healthy.

“Ready the sacrifices,” Mia said over the crackle of the fire.

Selina picked up the book of sonnets but as she did a sense of foreboding swept over her. She opened the cover of the book and leaned closer to the fire in order to read the inscription.

To my dearest husband,

Happy Birthday! I hope you love this book as much as I do. With all my love,

Mary

The book fell out of her fingers as if already scorched by the fire. She couldn’t sacrifice this book. Slowly, she bent down and picked up the volume. Now she had nothing to sacrifice. The sound of a horse galloping closer forced her gaze toward the earl’s lands.

“Oh, dear God, not now,” she whispered.

Seeing the fire on the horizon, Colin propelled his horse to a run. He prayed it wasn’t his home on fire due to some carelessness of the workers. But as he approached, he saw the women standing around a huge bonfire and anger filled his mind.

Did they not realize the danger of building such a large fire? Even though there had been some rain lately, it was still dangerous. These “wise” women were putting all three estates at risk.

He urged his horse faster until he reached the fire. After tying his horse to a tree, he stalked the group of women.

“Good God, women, have you no sense?” he shouted. “That bonfire might spark a wildfire.”

The Featherstone women both gasped as he approached but Selina stared at the ground with a guilty look on her face. Then Mia Featherstone laughed. “Your Grace, we have several buckets of water in case a spark catches. We have been doing this for years . . . centuries.”

“What are you ladies doing here? It’s almost midnight.” His gaze reverted to Selina. In her hands she held a book, most likely some volume of unholy pagan rituals.

“Your Grace, it is the summer solstice. You are welcome to watch us but please let us finish the ritual,” Mia Featherstone said softly.