The Witch's Halloween Hero (Nocturne Falls) (5 page)

She went silent a long moment. Then she punched him in the arm. Hard.

He grabbed the spot. “What was that for? And bloody hell, did you forget how strong you are as a vampire?”

“Yeah, maybe. Sorry. It still kind of slips my mind.” She pointed her finger at him, her brows bent in stern concentration. “And that was for you being all pessimistic and giving up. You’re not a quitter, Bartholomew Stanhill. The fact that you still give Captain Underpants bacon every morning despite the fact that I tell you not to is proof of that.”

The thought of Delaney’s black-and-white beast of a cat made him smile for a second. “I’m not quitting, I’m facing reality. Midnight is less than two hours away. How am I supposed to make her fall in love with me in that amount of time?”

“She already loves you. Just because she can’t remember those feelings doesn’t mean they aren’t still there. You have to help her remember. Show her exactly how you feel about her. Tell her stories about things you’ve done. Remind her of all the good times.”

“Love, I’ve been doing that all night.”

“So? Do it again.” She crossed her arms and stared at him. “You still love her, don’t you?”

He smiled. Then grabbed her shoulders and kissed her firmly on both cheeks. “You’re the bee’s knees, you know that? I was wallowing. Thank you for pulling me out of that rubbish.”

She grinned. “We all need a hand up once in a while.”

The door to the coatroom opened and Pandora started to say something, then saw Delaney and stopped.

Stanhill shook his head. “It’s all right. I told her. Delaney’s family, Corette, don’t be mad.”

Corette smiled weakly at Delaney before looking at Stanhill. “I’m not mad.” She took a deep breath. “Pandora explained everything. About the spell, about you. About us.”

“And?” Stanhill asked.

Corette’s smile strengthened and she lifted her chin. “I guess it’s time to start over.”

***

Corette enjoyed Stanhill’s patience with her almost as much as she enjoyed his stories. Didn’t hurt that his voice brushed over her like a vocal caress. She could hear how much he cared for her. See it in his eyes. Feel it in the subtle and not-so-subtle ways he found to touch her.

But love wasn’t something that could be forced and they both knew it. The knowledge was evident the same way his love was. A half hitch in a word during the retelling of a poignant memory. The sudden darkening of hope in his eyes. The hesitant way he took his hand off her arm. Like it might be the last time.

A current of desperation underlay everything, and they were powerless to shake it. She wondered for a moment if those left behind by the
Titanic
’s lifeboats had felt like this.

She ought to love him. She had, apparently, up until tonight. And who wouldn’t love this man? He was kind and funny, gentle and sweet, impossibly sexy, and wickedly charming.

He wasn’t the kind of man you kept on a string for bored evenings or spoke to just enough to keep things alive, he was the kind of man you married and cherished and spent the rest of your life with. If you were lucky.

And she had been.

She’d just gotten very unlucky this evening.

She rested her head on his shoulder as they danced in a blissfully slow spiral around the enormous ballroom. The other couples around them fell away, and for the moment, they were the only two people in the room.

His hand pressed her closer. “You’re a wonderful partner. As light on your feet as a summer breeze.”

She smiled, the fabric of his tux silky on her cheek. He was marvelously muscled underneath that fancy suit. “Coming from someone with your years of experience, that’s a lovely compliment.”

The song came to an end. She lifted her head and new sadness filled her, but she smiled anyway.

He took her hand and twined his fingers with hers. “We never did get that walk in the gardens. Still up for it? It’ll be gorgeous out there this time of night. The stars are really something out here in the country.”

She nodded. “That would be perfect.”

He kept hold of her hand and led her through the house. Normally she’d be fascinated by the mansion, taking every opportunity to study the opulent home, but tonight the only thing that made any sense was to pay attention to Stanhill.

They came to a bank of french doors that overlooked an expansive outdoor terrace. He pushed one open and waited for her to go through.

She stepped out and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and just cold enough to be bracing but not unbearable. A wisp of fog curled from her mouth when she exhaled. “I should have grabbed my wrap.”

“Chilly, eh?” He closed the door behind them and shucked his jacket to place it over her shoulders.

“Not anymore. Thank you for the coat.” She could have cast a spell to keep herself warm but this was so much better, and she was a little mad at magic right now. She pulled the jacket tighter around her. “Won’t you be cold?”

“Being a rook makes me fairly immune to temperature issues.” He nodded at her. “Slip your arms through or it’s going to be rubbish trying to hold your hand.”

She laughed softly and did as he asked, tucking her bag under one arm.

He took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Nearly midnight.”

She swallowed. “I know.”

“Have you checked your phone? Any messages from the girls?”

She dropped his hand and took her phone from her purse. The screen was blank. No notifications. She smiled, thin-lipped and tight, as she dropped the phone back into her bag. “Nothing new.”

He took a deep breath, nodding slowly, then held his hand out to her. “Let’s walk.”

She took his hand in response, and they headed down the stone steps and into the garden. There were no words between them—how could there be with the heavy air of inevitability and the pressing weight of their immediate future bearing down on them?

They came to a stop at the fountain in the center of the garden. Unlike the fountain in town, this one had no gargoyles, real or otherwise.

The bubbling of the water would have been a soothing sound any other evening, but as they stood in front of the fountain, Corette’s sense of unease grew. She stared into the water. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“It’s not your fault, love.” He sighed and put his arm around her shoulders. “But I’m sorry about it too.”

“It’s so unfair. I’m not going to know who you are or be able to acknowledge you, and you’re such a wonderful man.” She looked up at him. “You don’t deserve to be forgotten.”

He smiled. Sadness clouded his eyes, but she could tell he was putting on a brave face for her. “Thank you.”

She studied him. “Why haven’t you asked?”

His smile faltered. “Asked…what?”

“If I’ve fallen in love with you again?”

His gaze shifted back to the fountain. “Didn’t seem like my place. Thought you might think it was pushy too.” He shook his head. “I do love you, Corette. I suspect I always will.”

“Oh, Stanhill, that’s a horrible thing to tell me. Wonderful. But horrible.” She sniffed. “I feel awful.” She did. Like a part of her life was coming to an end. Which it was. She sniffed again, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

For the first time in her life, she was cross about being a witch. For all her gifts, she was powerless to help herself. A single angry tear trickled down her cheek.

“Now, now, don’t cry.” He pointed at the jacket. “There’s a handkerchief in the pocket there. It’ll be midnight before you know it. Let’s go out on a happy note.”

She dug into the pocket, but all she found was a little velvet box. She pulled it out. “What’s this?”

His eyes rounded slightly. “Nothing, love. Must be cuff links or something I left in the pocket—”

She opened the box and gasped. An enormous blue sapphire surrounded by sparkling diamonds twinkled up at her. “This isn’t nothing. This is an engagement ring.”

He swallowed but didn’t say a word.

She looked at him. “Goddess help me, you were going to propose tonight, weren’t you?”

He stayed still for a long minute. Then he sighed and nodded, the pain in his eyes clearly visible. “I was.”

A surge of panic ran through her. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Eleven fifty-three.”

She snapped the box shut and stuffed it back in the jacket pocket. “Kiss me. Before I forget you forever, kiss me. Maybe the universe will smile down on me and I’ll be able to remember that much of you.”

***

Stanhill didn’t need to be told twice. He swept Corette into his arms, cradling her lush form with one hand on her back and the other on the curve of her divine hip. He kissed her, devouring her mouth with the kind of passion he’d been holding back all evening.

If this was the last time he was ever going to kiss her, then bollocks, he was going to give it everything he had.

She moaned in pleasure, a noise that was very un-Corette. At least the Corette who was currently in his arms. The Corette he’d been intimate with made that sound often enough that he’d come to recognize it as his cue to keep doing whatever he was doing.

In this case, he kept kissing her.

She clung to him, holding on as if for dear life. But best of all, she kissed him back. Maybe in those last few moments, she had fallen in love with him again.

Sadly, he’d never know. It was too late.

Fireworks punctuated that thought as they erupted in the sky above them. A Black and Orange Ball tradition that occurred every year at the same time.

Midnight
.

Pain racked his body, the sensation of his heart being torn in two. He released her, almost afraid to look into her eyes, so for the moment he kept his focus lower. Color spilled over her in washes of light as the fireworks continued to explode in the sky. Questions pummeled his brain with the same intensity. Would she look through him? Or think he was someone else? Or worse?

He finally shifted his gaze to hers. Her lids were heavy, her chest rising and falling with what he hoped was the exhilaration of the kiss. She put her hand to her heart as her eyes rose to meet his.

She tipped her head to one side. “Did you just kiss me?”

And so it began. He nodded, wondering who she thought he was. “Yes.”

Another boomer went off over their heads, showering them in a glittering spray of silver light.

She stared at him. “You either literally kissed my brains out or I’ve had too much to drink. Everything seems so foggy.”

She put a hand out, taking hold of his arm as she glanced around. “We’re at the Black and Orange Ball, right?”

Now this was just odd. “Yes. We’ve been here all night.”

She blinked a few times, then looked back at him. “How much have I had to drink? I swear, my darling, I cannot remember how I got here. I feel like a bit of a ninny. I don’t feel drunk, but I must be.”

My darling?
He stared at her. “Are you telling me you don’t remember anything that’s transpired this evening?”

Her brows knit together and she frowned. “Not…really. There are moments here and there. We sat down to dinner.”

He nodded.

“Then I think we were in the coatroom together? With Pandora? Although I can’t imagine why.”

“Yes, we were.” He was on the verge of hope, but he’d been there before too many times this evening and ended up disappointed.

She gave him a funny little half smile. “Beyond that, I’m not sure.”

“What’s the first thing you remember clearly?”

“I had just finished getting ready and I went downstairs to show the girls my dress. They were working on a spell, something someone in town had ordered…” She blinked up at him. “You know, it goes pretty dark after that.”

He wanted to whoop and yell and carry on like a football hooligan, but his breeding restrained him. Instead, he smiled. “My dear, I don’t know how, but something very good has happened.”

“Oh?” She smiled full-on this time and leaned into him. “Tell me.”

He explained everything that had happened. And everything that hadn’t. “And somehow, now you’re back to you again.”

She tapped her fingers on his chest. “You kissed me three times and after each time, I forgot what had happened?”

“That’s exactly right.”

She nodded. “I’ll tell you what happened. Love’s true kiss in its most powerful number: three. You saved me from that horrible spell, Stanhill. You did it.” She looked away, blinking at tears. “I cannot imagine forgetting you. You’re…everything to me. I love you beyond words. I owe you my happiness. I owe you my life.”

He snuck his hand into the pocket of the jacket she was still wearing, using his rook speed and stealth to do it as quickly and quietly as possible. “Then repay me by becoming my wife.”