The Witch's Halloween Hero (Nocturne Falls) (3 page)

Hugh smiled, showing off those fangs. “True. But I almost wasn’t. And I was willing to risk more than rejection to have her by my side for eternity. Trust your heart, Stanhill. This will all work out, I’m sure of it.”

“Easy for you to say. But I see your point.”

“Then you’ll ask her?”

Stanhill nodded. “I really don’t have much choice, do I? I’ll consider it strongly.”

Hugh’s smile faded. “And if it doesn’t work?”

Stanhill stared into his empty glass, then raised it. “I’m going to need a lot more of these.”

***

Corette stood back and took a hard look at the enormous arrangement her daughter was fixing in the main dining room. It was so large Marigold had to use a step ladder to work on the upper sections. As the centerpiece of the space, the arrangement she did every year had become the traditional background for many of the Black and Orange Ball photographs. “It’s beautiful, Mari. You really outdid yourself this year.”

Marigold sighed and peered out from behind a swathe of green. “Mom. They’re lopsided.”

Corette shook her head. “I think it looks artistic.”

“Well, Elenora won’t think that. She’s pretty old school when it comes to what she likes and doesn’t like.” Marigold leaned into the flowers again.

Corette studied her daughter. She wasn’t just a pretty face. Marigold was a deft touch at flowers and her skills as a green witch were extraordinary, but the area she truly excelled at was motherhood. Corette’s heart ached for all her girls to find love, although Pandora seemed well on her way to marriage, but with Marigold, it wasn’t just about her finding love, it was also about sweet Saffie getting a wonderful stepdaddy.

Corette glanced around to see if there were any eligible bachelors she might introduce her daughter to.

A passel of servers bustled past with the final touches for the many, many tables that would hold the five hundred or so guests about to descend. They all looked too busy to stop. Corette sighed. “I promise you they’re beautiful.”

“And I promise you, Elenora’s standards are very different.”

“That’s for sure.” Delaney Ellingham walked over, looking splendid in another custom gown from Ever After. She held a tray of petit fours but quickly handed them off to a server. “Put these on the north buffet.” She smiled at Corette. “Hi, how are you? You look fantastic. Is that the dress you special ordered?”

“Hi, Delaney. And thank you. Yes, this is it. I have to say you look fabulous in that dress as well.”

Delaney grinned. “And I have you to thank.” She did a twirl, floating the layers of shimmering black chiffon out around her, then steadied herself and called up to Marigold. “Where are those sprays for the cake table? I need to get them set up. Elenora wants to open the dining room in exactly fifteen minutes.”

Marigold popped out of the flowers again. “They’re in three big white boxes in the middle walk-in.” She grinned. “You do look fabulous. Very Ginger Rogers. Speaking of, where’s Fred?”

Delaney laughed. “Hugh’s out there with Stanhill. The two of them are hugging the wall like they’re afraid Birdie Caruthers might ask them to dance.”

Marigold snorted. “Oh, I’d pay money to see that.”

Delaney nudged Corette with her elbow. “Can’t let Birdie get her hooks in Stanhill or you may never see him again.”

Corette frowned as a surprising wash of jealousy temporarily shaded her vision green. “You think he’d be that easily wooed away?”

“No, I was just teasing.” Delaney made a face. “I think he’d be more likely to run away screaming. I mean, Stanhill with a werewolf? I can’t even.”

“Oh, no, that wouldn’t do at all, would it?” Corette made herself laugh. Why was she feeling jealous over Stanhill? She wasn’t in love with him. Although she had to admit, he was very easy to spend time with. Was she feeling something for him? After just a few hours? Of course, if what her girls said was true, she’d known him for years. And definitely
was
in love with him. The whole thing was such a mess. And so very confusing!

Delaney shot Marigold a look but said nothing. “Right. Okay, gotta run. Gotta get that cake table set up.” With a wave, she swanned off in a cloud of chiffon.

Marigold climbed down off the ladder. “Mom, have you checked your phone? Any word from Pandy and Charisma?”

“No, I haven’t.” She dipped her hand into her evening bag, retrieved the phone, and tapped the screen to life. “One message. Charisma says try love’s true kiss.” Corette dropped the phone back into her bag and gave Marigold a little smile. “Your sister always thinks that’s the answer.”

“You’ve thought it yourself a few times.” Marigold shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt to try.”

“He kissed me at the house. It did nothing.”

“Nothing?” Marigold narrowed her gaze. “You didn’t get any reaction from it?”

Corette tipped her head coyly. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Marigold clapped her hands in obvious excitement. “You’re starting to feel something for him, aren’t you?”

Maybe. But that didn’t change the fact that she’d been burned very badly once before. In theory, she knew her divorce had happened years ago, but it felt so fresh…“He’s a very nice man—”

“Oh, come on. He’s Stanhill. He’s a total silver fox. And nice is the kiss of death. He deserves better than that.”

“Marigold, this isn’t something you can make happen through sheer force of will. After your father’s betrayal, you can’t expect me to fall in love in a matter of moments.”

“Mom, you’ve known Stanhill for years. Been in love with him for at least four.” Marigold held her hands up. They were stained with chlorophyll. “I know you don’t feel or remember any of that because of the accident, but trust me.”

“I do trust you, my darling, but I can’t just love someone because—”

The side door opened and Elenora Ellingham swept in. Her secretary, and one of the oldest and most secretive witches Corette knew, Alice Bishop, swept in behind her. Alice was the oft absent head of the local coven and, in traditional Alice style, wore simple, unadorned black. Elenora was in full-length burnt-orange dupioni silk with a shocking amount of rubies at her throat, wrist, and ears. The matriarch of the Ellingham clan cast her vampire gaze upon them. “Marigold.” Then she turned slightly. “Corette.”

“Elenora,” both women replied.

“Are we ready?” She eyed them curiously, as if guessing she’d interrupted something that wasn’t official Black and Orange Ball business. “I’m opening the doors for dinner shortly. I can’t give my guests access to open bars without also providing them food.”

“Five minutes, Elenora, and everything will be perfect.” Marigold smiled nervously.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Corette whispered as she patted her daughter’s arm. Then she nodded at Alice. “Nice to see you, Alice.”

Alice nodded back, her sharp eyes barely blinking.

Corette made her way out but stopped in the ladies room to check her makeup, slipping her lipstick from her purse. She blinked into the mirror, her mind elsewhere. Like how she was feeling about Stanhill. And what her options were.

Alice was one. She rarely mixed with the other witches. Corette was the coven secretary and barely knew her. Every once in a while, Alice might show up at a coven meeting if she had an announcement, but the woman was an anomaly. And in a town like Nocturne Falls, that was saying something.

Word was, her power was old and ancient and derived from the lives of her sister witches lost in the Salem trials. Alice was the sole survivor, thanks to Elenora’s intervention.

Which was why Alice never left Elenora’s side. And why she’d helped the Ellinghams create Nocturne Falls and the spell that kept it safe.

Corette straightened and stared back toward the dining room. If Alice Bishop was powerful enough to bespell the town’s water supply with a charm to keep human visitors from suspecting its inhabitants were true supernaturals, what else was the woman capable of? Erasing the evening’s earlier mishap would probably be nothing for her.

But that would mean Corette would have to confess what had happened. She would be vulnerable. Possibly in danger of losing her status as coven secretary. And while Corette made it a policy to trust her sister witches, Alice Bishop was cut from a very different cloth.

Corette tucked her lipstick into her bag. Best Alice not know anything about what had happened. At least not until things became desperate.

Right now, Corette was rather enjoying being the focus of Stanhill’s evening. The banter and flirting were all highly entertaining. And it
was
flattering to be the center of such a handsome man’s attention. There was also no point in denying she had begun to feel something for him.

She clutched her purse tightly. What if she really had been in love with him? What if he was her last chance to find love again? That chance would vanish at midnight. She knew that. Samhain had a way of making permanent any loose magic

The thought sent a little shiver of fear through her. She wasn’t afraid of being alone. Her daughters’ presence in her life meant that was impossible. But losing a good man…and being the reason that man’s heart was broken, that wasn’t something Corette wanted on her soul for the rest of her days.

She opened her purse, took out her phone, and dialed.

Pandora answered on the second ring. “Mom? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I have an idea…”

Chapter 3

Stanhill smiled as Corette joined him. “Hello, love.”

She smiled back with more certainty than he’d seen in her all evening. “Hello.”

“Everything all right with the flowers?”

She nodded. “Marigold’s got things well under control.”

“That’s quite the talented trio of girls you’ve got there. Just as smart and beautiful as their mother.”

Her dark eyes held his gaze. “Have you always been such a charmer?”

He took her hand and ran his thumb over her delicate knuckles. There was no teasing in her words, just genuine interest. He took that as a positive sign. “You know that I—” He stopped and laughed at the bittersweet moment. “I guess you don’t know. Not anymore.”

Her smile was kind. “Tell me.”

“Do you remember that I’m a rook?”

“No, but that would mean you’re practically a vampire.”

He nodded. “Correct. And as such, I am very old. Nearly four hundred years.” He continued. “My entire life, both as human and rook, has been spent in service. I was Hugh’s valet before he turned me.”

“Being a rook is still a form of service.”

“It is. But with many more freedoms and benefits.”

Her mouth turned into a coy smile. “I assume he dresses himself now too.”

“Yes, thank the bloody stars.”

She laughed, the most beautiful sound. “Still, service is service.”

“It is indeed. And because of that, I learned early on to watch my words. To temper my moods, to be careful in my speech. It shaped me. Hugh was never an exceedingly hard lord to serve, but we were from two different worlds. He was a peer. I was a commoner. Now that gulf between us is gone, but I cannot change the man I am.”

Her smile thinned. “So you’re saying that you’ve just been telling me what I want to hear?”

“No. I’m trying—and failing—to tell you that what you see with me is what you get. And I am my truest self around you, my darling Corette. I always have been. I always will be. You have the unique ability to boil people down to their essence. I don’t know if it’s witchcraft or the makeup of your character, but you don’t suffer fools lightly, and it’s one of things I adore about you the most.”

“That’s very sweet of you to say.”

He took her hand again, allowing himself the indulgence of caressing her soft skin. Touching her felt like a delicious, guilty pleasure. He kept his focus on her hand, afraid he would be overcome if he said what he needed to say while looking into her eyes. “I don’t know what’s going to become of us after tonight, but if our time together ends this evening, I will still consider myself the luckiest man alive to have had you in my life for this long.”

He started to let go of her hand, but she held on, causing him to lift his face to hers.

Her eyes were liquid with emotion. “I don’t know what will become of us either, Stanhill, but I’m starting to feel very much that I hope tonight is not the end of our time together.”

His breath caught in his throat for a moment, held there by a bubble of hope that had welled up in him so unexpectedly it took several long seconds before he could speak again. “Are you saying…”

She blinked, clearing the emotion from her eyes. “I’m saying I like you very much, Stanhill. Enough that I think we deserve more time than the deadline of midnight can give us.”

She let go of his hand, more composed now. “I talked to my daughters and gave them a few ideas to counteract the spell. By the time we’re done with dinner, one of them should be here with the anti-potion.”