Cuckoo in the Coven

Willow echoed her words.

The cat looked on judiciously.

She selected two gems—a pearl with a rosy sheen, and a rugged piece of dark jet—and rolled them together. Then she strung them on a silken thread, first the jet, naming it “dream man,” then slid the pearl against it, naming it “Sunny” before knotting them together securely.

Wellington blinked and purred.

Celeste curled the tethered gems into the palm of her hand and smiled at Willow. “Here’s to the future,” she whispered.

Willow nodded. “The future. Whatever it may bring.”

CHAPTER FOUR

When Sunny got ready to turn in for the night, she couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t alone in the house. Perhaps the house was haunted. Her gran had never said anything about ghosts, and neither had Celeste. The story about the missing traveler had caught Sunny’s attention though. She’d been about to ask when he’d gone missing, but the sudden appearance of the strange man they called Viscount Fox distracted them.

She rather liked the idea of her cottage being the stuff of possible legend, but she had to admit her experiences were definitely more dreamlike than waking visions of a spirit world. Figments of her imagination, she decided.

Inevitably, thoughts of the dream man wavered at the edge of her consciousness and when she donned her favorite silk shortie PJs and slipped between the sheets, his image moved back into her conscious mind. God, he was gorgeous, she thought and smiled into the darkness. What an absolute hunk, and what a powerful orgasm she’d had the night before. Could she bring it on again? She’d read some people could more or less program their dreams by thinking about the subject they wanted to dream about. She’d certainly give it her best shot. As she willed herself into the arms of sleep, Sunny wished she were drifting into the arms of her lover instead.

Images started to invade her thoughts, images of herself dancing in the arms of a lover. She lifted her eyelids lazily, wondering if it were a dream or a daydream. The room was filled with the smell of jasmine clinging in the night mist. The last thing she remembered was thinking she really ought to get up and close the window, because the sea mist seemed, eerily, to be everywhere that night. Her eyelids lowered; she was drifting.

Rather oddly, she saw two shiny gemstones in her open palm, and closed her hand over them. Then her consciousness moved into another realm.

Her dream was vivid. Even though it was weighted with sleep, her skin hummed with anticipation. She moved beyond it and floated through the ether. She felt as if she were traveling—seeking him.

Rolling restlessly, she wandered in the mists of her dream world, her body alive with sensation, tossed from need to want and cast up on the shores of desire. Breathless, she sensed his presence moving closer through the swirling mists.

She clutched at the pillows, desperate for him.

He was tantalizingly near, his handsome face, his intense blue eyes wild as he watched her. His breath moved across her skin, drawing a moan from her lips. A voice murmured her name. She reached for him, but he drew back, as if leading her.

She struggled to follow, her will to find him fighting leaden limbs to reach out. Stepping after him, mist swirled up all around her. She thought herself lost, then saw him walking ahead of her, reached out and touched his back. He stopped walking, began to turn. Then, through the mists, she heard voices in conversation.

There were voices on the stairs.

Sunny wakened with a start, pushing back the sheet and sitting bolt upright. There was someone in the house! Her heart rate shot up instantly, the blood rushing in her ears. Burglars? She strained to hear, leaning forward on the bed. Sure enough, she heard a floorboard creak. Then, incredibly, a voice boomed out.

“Be on your way, Nathaniel, and thank you for your hospitality. I’ll send you word of my whereabouts when I’m settled.”

What in hell’s name was going on? The back of her neck prickled with tension, the palms of her hands fast growing damp. She pushed back her hair and tried to make sense of what she was hearing. It had to be burglars, and there seemed to be at least two men, but they were chuckling and talking to each other in a very strange way.

What were they doing in her house?

She climbed out of bed, intending to cross the room so she could hear more clearly. Wary of creaking floorboards, she inched forward, sliding her bare feet on the polished boards, easing closer to the door. Moonlight carved a passage across the room and she went to step past it but froze when a board beneath her foot creaked. She stopped dead.

The intruders carried on chatting, as if oblivious to the noise she’d made. She could only assume they thought they were alone in the house. Steeling herself, she peeked through the crack near the door hinge. The two men on the landing were large and wearing strange shirts and tight trousers with knee-high boots. One of them held a lantern in his hand, and she saw they had long hair to their shoulders, which cast their faces in shadow.

“Five years will turn over soon enough, and I’ll do all I can to clear your name in preparation for your return. Until then, safe travel aboard the Gloriana. Rest well and take this purse.” The sound of disagreement followed. “Take it, please. Take these few small gifts to speed your passage. You’ll be comfortable here—oh and I left you a flask of rum and some food to be sure of it.”

There was laughter and a mumbled thank you.

“Just be clear of the house before mid-morn. The servant girl comes up from the town and I didn’t have time to tell her anyone would be taking rest here.”

“Aye,” came the reply. “I’ll need to be on the lookout for the Gloriana by then.”

The sound of mutual backslapping reached her, and then one set of footsteps faded away down the stairs. One of them was staying, that much was clear. Silently, with her breath trapped in her lungs, she waited. Downstairs, she heard the front door closing. Then another floorboard on the landing creaked. It was now too gloomy on the landing to see, but she sensed the presence getting nearer.

Her heart missed a beat.