Penelope and Prince Charming (Nvengaria #1)(125)

Black Annie blew out the candle. Acrid smoke filled Meagan’s nose, and she sneezed. As she did so, the sweet relaxation fell away, and she blinked.

“That will be fifty guineas, Mrs. Braithwaite,” Black Annie said in a crisp voice.

Deirdre’s eyes narrowed as though she belatedly shared Meagan’s father’s views about charlatans. “I will pay you when I see whether the spell works.”

Black Annie quickly closed her hand over the talisman. “No, Mrs. Braithwaite. Cash on receipt of goods. If the spell does not work, you may of course request your money returned.”

Deirdre opened her mouth to argue. Black Annie gazed at her in quiet confidence, a much stronger woman than silly Deirdre could ever hope to be.

Deirdre sighed. “Oh, very well. But it had better work.”

“It will.”

Deirdre opened her reticule and removed a bank draft. “For fifty guineas.”

Black Annie took the draft calmly, folded it, and placed it in the drawer of the table. She wrapped the talisman in Deirdre’s handkerchief and held it out.

Deirdre glanced at it then said, “Keep it for me, Meagan. Bring it to Lady Featherstone’s ball tonight. I dare not take the chance my husband will find it if I take it home.”

Meagan stared at her. “It is only a bit of wire and feathers. Your husband would not tumble to what it is, surely.”

“He will ask me.” Deirdre shook her head. “He always tasks me when I come home with what I’ve bought and how much I’ve spent. So tedious. He will find it, and whatever should I say to him?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Meagan said in irritation. “Tell him it is for spots.”

Deirdre gave Meagan a disparaging look. “As though I have trouble with my complexion, thank you very much. My maid is too stupid to hide it—my husband’s valet will find it and try to have my maid given the sack. That man loves to lord it over all the servants. You must keep it for me.”

Black Annie held out the handkerchief to Meagan. “It seems the only way, Miss Tavistock.”

Meagan hid a sigh as she took the small bundle. It felt very light, the bits of wire hard against the soft feathers. “Yes, yes, very well.” She pinned Deirdre with her glare. “But only until tonight, mind. If my father or stepmother find it, I will tell them truthfully that it’s yours.”

“Then make certain they do not find it,” Deirdre said. “Now where is that maid? I must get home.”

Black Annie rang her bell and the maid reappeared, Meagan’s and Deirdre’s wraps over her arm. In a sudden hurry Deirdre snatched hers up and flung herself out of the room without saying good-bye. Meagan tucked the handkerchief-wrapped talisman into her reticule, wondering if she should apologize to Black Annie for Deirdre’s rudeness or simply slip away.

“Miss Tavistock.”

Meagan turned. Black Annie stood behind her, hands folded, her eyes wise and even kind.

“I must beg your pardon for Deirdre’s abruptness,” Meagan began.

Black Annie made a dismissing shrug. “She has paid me well—I am not interested in her manners. But I wanted to tell you Miss Tavistock, that I knew your mother.”

Meagan stopped, her excitement at the illicit outing fading in a wash of surprise. “Did you?”

“You look much like her, my dear. You must have been very young when she died, were you not?”

A dart of pain laced Meagan’s heart. “I was eight.” She remembered little about her mother except her warm smile and comforting hugs. She also knew that her mother had loved Meagan and her father to distraction.

“Indeed, she was taken from us far too soon,” Black Annie said, her voice sad. “She was a sweet woman and a dear friend.”

Meagan glanced at the table with the candles and gold wire and thought of her father’s disparaging words about Black Annie and tricksters like her. “You and my mother were friends?” Meagan asked doubtfully.

Black Annie’s eyes twinkled. “We were, my dear, though I was a few years older than she. She’d lost her own mother, you see, and looked to me as a sort of a substitute. And yes, before you ask, I made a spell for her. How do you think your mother and father fell in love in the first place?”

“You gave my mother a love spell?” Meagan said in shock, which was followed hard upon by anger.

Black Annie’s smile deepened. “I did indeed. Your mama came to me soon after she’d made her debut, distracted because the handsome Michael Tavistock would not look her way. She was far gone in love with him, and I believed that once Mr. Tavistock noticed her, he’d be easily smitten. I simply gave her something that nudged him in the right direction.”

Meagan treasured a memory of her father and mother standing in each other’s arms in the hall of their Oxfordshire house, unaware that Meagan watched from the stairs. Meagan’s father had caressed her mother’s cheek and kissed her. Her mother had closed her eyes and returned the kiss, looking oh so happy. It was one of the last memories Meagan had of her.

“Are you saying what they felt for each other was a spell?” Meagan demanded, her throat tight. “That it was false?”

Annie lifted her sturdy hands. “No, indeed, Miss Tavistock, do not distress yourself. I am merely stating that the spell brought them together. And so what if it did? It turned out well for them, did it not?”