The Viscount at Midnight: Magic & Mystery, #3

Prologue

London, Spring, 1814

She ran away from him. Again!

Philip Cardwell, Viscount Chedworth, watched the dark curls at the back of Lady Antonia Kerrigan’s head bounce before she disappeared through the doors leading to the terrace from where she had abandoned him on the dance floor as the last strains of the waltz faded.

If she hated waltzing with him so much, then why did she? Nobody was making her. Yet, she had accepted and ran away before the dance ended every single time!

Why did he even continue asking her? Was it the humiliation he wanted to experience again and again?

Philip shook his head and walked off the dance floor.

If Lady Antonia did not care for him, she would have turned down his requests.

Though, she was very clear that she would only waltz, but never the supper dance. Which meant, she liked him well enough to dance with, but not share a meal and conversation.

Except, they had enjoyed several conversations. Not ever in a ballroom, but in Hyde Park when he’d come across her. Then she took his offered arm and allowed him to escort her away from the crowds and they’d discussed many topics.

Lady Antonia Kerrigan was an enjoyable companion, but odd and one he could not understand. In short, she was a conundrum, but he still approached her at every ball, already knowing how the waltz would end.

In fact, since the Season had begun, he was the only person she had partnered because Lady Antonia turned everyone else away.

He had only gained an introduction in the first place because his parents wanted him to marry and insisted that it was time. So, he put his mind to finding the most pleasant witch London had to offer. Yes, she was a witch and as he came from a magical family, which Lady Antonia already knew, she did not have to hide the fact from him.

At first, he had dismissed the possibility of Lady Antonia as a potential wife, but that was only because she was a close friend to two of his cousins, and it was likely she had heard tales of him that he’d rather nobody knew.

Second, she was a wallflower, so he assumed that she was either a bluestocking or overly shy. Not that he had anything against either type of woman, he just did not think they would suit.

At any entertainment Lady Antonia could be found with those who attended Societal events, but never participated. And, as each night grew later, she pulled further away from everyone until she completely disappeared. Though he had no idea why. As her parents were still present, Philip could only presume that she hid.

He'd asked her during their strolls, but she had evaded his question.

But her running from him again as Society watched on was quite enough, and with that, Philip marched out of the ballroom and onto the terrace. It was time he received answers.

Except, he could not find her.

Where the blazes had she gone?

Had she transported herself away?

Blast! He should have asked his cousins what powers Lady Antonia possessed. Except he had not wanted to make known his interest.

Antonia adored dancing with Lord Chedworth. There was a peacefulness in him that she’d never experienced with anyone else. He was calm, light, positive, and his emotions did not exhaust hers. Being in his arms, one hand in his and another on his shoulder always brought immediate relief while in a crowd. But she also knew that as soon as they parted, she’d be engulfed with the emotions of all those surrounding her, only worse than it had been before the dance had begun.

Lord Chedworth quieted the noise.

That was the only word she could think of to describe what happened when she was in large groups of people. Noise, which made it impossible for her to think, or concentrate, and exhausted her beyond imagination. If she could mask the emotions of those around her, she would immediately, but it was not possible, no matter how hard she tried. Instead, the empath part of her felt everything from everybody and all at once.

And each time the waltz was about to end, Antonia knew that she had to exit the house before it became too much. Such as she had just done.

Lady Antonia?

She straightened and glanced about. Nobody should be able to see her on the bench behind the tall bushes. She had found this place earlier in the evening and knew this was where she would retreat.

At every ball she always toured the gardens while the evening was still young. The purpose was to locate the perfect place to hide when the entertainment became too much.

Lady Antonia? he called again, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chedworth had never come after her before so why should he do so now?

Did she reveal herself?

Oh, if only he was for her, but it would never be. He was lively, social, enjoyed being with people and they loved having him as a guest.

Antonia had watched Chedworth from when she first came to Town. Nobody was a stranger to him. Even if he’d not met them previously, by the time the conversation was complete, they were likely friends. Chedworth thrived in London while she barely survived it.

Oh, if only…Antonia closed her thoughts. There was no hope, nor any possibility that there could be more. It didn’t matter that she adored him, and he was her one sanctuary when surrounded by people. A simple touch and all else faded, but no gentleman wanted a woman who was constantly by his side, hand on his arm, and afraid to let go. That was too much to ask of anyone.

There you are.

Antonia glanced up to find Chedworth standing beside her. She’d been so lost in her own musings that she’d not felt him approach. With anyone else, she would have experienced their emotion before they ever got so close.

Why do you do that? he demanded.

Do what? she asked.

Run out before a waltz has finished.

She had feared that this question would come one day and knew that when Chedworth learned the truth of how pathetic she was, he’d want nothing more to do with her.

I did not wish to be caught in the crowd.

You left me standing there, and not for the first time, looking the fool.

She’d not considered that. Though, pulling him with her, and out onto the terrace would have started tongues wagging as her good reputation was destroyed.

I needed to get away before the noise and the crowd became too much. That was the most truthful that she was willing to be.

If I ask you to waltz with me again, will you do the same? he demanded.

It is likely, yes.

Why?

I just told you. It was a half-truth, and not good enough.

Then do not expect me to ask again.

A knife to her heart would have been less painful, but Antonia was not surprised.

I do not understand, he said after a moment.

What do you not understand? she asked, almost afraid of his answer.

I have had enjoyable conversations with you when we’ve strolled in the park. I would think that you had some caring for me as I am the only one you will dance with, yet you flee at the first opportunity.

Did she tell him the truth?

She couldn’t.

He would never understand. And, if he did, Chedworth would only pity her. Antonia would rather he disliked her than pity her.

I cannot abide crowds. Which was as close to the truth as she would allow.

I had hoped that something more could develop between us, perhaps a courtship. I truly enjoy your company, Lady Antonia, but I can no longer be the fellow who constantly chases after you.

She frowned. He’d not chased her before, and this was the only time he’d followed her onto the terrace.

I call at your home, but am turned away, and when you do grant me a waltz, you run away as quickly as you can. I no longer wish to play the fool.

She placed a hand on her heart.

It was a pleasure to know you. He bowed, then took his leave.

Antonia blinked back tears as the only gentleman, nay, person, who brought her peace marched away. He was the one for her, and she had always known that, but Antonia also knew that she would only be a burden to him. That was the reason she would never reveal the truth. She feared that he’d be willing to take on that burden and by the time he tired of it, he would be stuck with her. She couldn’t do that to anyone.

She did not want to be in London any longer. She wanted to go home and would beg her parents to take her there. She also never wanted to return to London again. There was nothing here for her but heartache and pain.

Chapter One

Nightshade Manor, Bocka Morrow, Cornwall ~ six months later

Philip Cardwell, Viscount Chedworth, leaned back in the leather chair beside the fireplace and lifted his glass of brandy. We survived, gentlemen.

The comment was addressed to his good friends Reese Westcott, Viscount Amcaster and Comte de Rohan, Cassian Jourdain.

We realized we had survived twelve days ago, Amcaster reminded him.

Yes, but today the last of the guests, at least those parents and their marriageable and magical daughters, departed. We could not afford to let down our guard while they were still about, Philip reminded them. Though, why they remained for nearly a fortnight is beyond me.

There was an unwritten rule for those of Drakos blood, which he was—that the males, who never received magical abilities, were to marry a witch. Only two had not, but Philip had accepted his duty as heir and child of a witch that he would wed as requested.

That was also one of the reasons his aunt, the Countess of Wharton, Lady Iris Drakos, had hosted a Witches’ Ball nearly a fortnight ago. Each guest had either been a witch or warlock, or came from a family of such, or knew of the existence of witches and was not disturbed but accepting. His aunt had hoped that many matches would be made, him included, but Philip had avoided being caught in matrimony and the reason he was now celebrating with his friends.

I am still here, Amcaster said.

Ah, but you are my friend. It is different.

There are still two misses here, Cassian reminded them.

They are visiting with my cousins and will be until the end of the month, Philip dismissed. Besides, their mothers are not here, therefore, no need to fear matchmaking.

Who still remains? Amcaster asked.

Lady Antonia Kerrigan and Lady Samantha Ellis, Cassian answered.

Lady Antonia is still here? Amcaster asked. His eyes focused on Philip as an eyebrow arched in speculation.

Amcaster had taken great pleasure in Philip often being abandoned before a waltz was fully completed, and the other difficulties he had suffered when trying to court the woman. The two ladies are close friends of Petra and Maia, and they asked the two to stay. At least, that is what I have been told, nor does it matter.

Of all the women his cousins could have about, why did one have to be Lady Antonia? Philip had tried to forget her, put her from his mind, but he’d not been able to do so. It wasn’t that he was in love, it was because he had never figured her out.

After he left her in the gardens that last night, he had not seen her again. Not until she walked into the Witches’ Ball. He had assumed that she would not be in attendance because all the guests had arrived at least a day earlier, many of them days earlier.

But she had walked in just as the ball had begun and was even more beautiful than he remembered with her thick dark hair, light blue eyes, and full crimson lips.

He had not asked her to waltz because he knew how it would end. In fact, he’d spent the entire night and these past twelve days practically avoiding or ignoring her.

Oh, they had meals together, with everyone else who was residing at Nightshade Manor, and there had been polite conversation, but he did not go out of his way to find her, no matter how many times he wished to do so.

Except, and he hated to admit this even to himself, now that most of the guests had departed, Philip hoped to spend time with her. Did he dare approach her again?

Philip had been smitten with her almost immediately. Lady Antonia had not been besotted with him. Therefore, he should just continue to keep his distance and eventually she would be gone.

Or he could return home.

Except he did not want to leave Nightshade Manor because Lady Antonia was here.

Blast!

He wanted to pursue her, but would it end as badly as it had in London?

He lifted his glass of brandy and took another drink.

Perhaps I should take my leave, Amcaster said, intruding on Philip’s thoughts.

You can depart on a whim with barely a snap of your fingers. If they set their eyes on you, simply transport yourself home. Especially if Lady Antonia suddenly became interested. As for me and Cassian, we do not have such an easy escape as neither of us possess even a drop of magic.

There was never any fear that someone would expect me to wed. Cassian laughed.

Do not be so certain, Philip warned. My mother raised you from when you were only six. I have no doubt that she intends to find a suitable witch for you to wed as well.

Cassian chuckled. If my last name was Cardwell, I would be concerned. As it is not, I will not worry.

The gentleman that we should raise a glass to is our fallen friend, Harcourt, Amcaster offered in a solemn tone.

Philip’s cousin, Pierce Drakos, Viscount Harcourt, had fallen in love in the days leading up to the Witches’ Ball. The bride was Amcaster’s sister, Clara.

"My mother had hoped that at least one of