Free Born Wicked: The Cahill Witch Chronicles, Book One: The Cahill Witch Chronicles, Book One by Jessica Spotswood Page A

bow. “I’ve only just gotten back. Are you trying to get rid of me? Is there someone else—another suitor?”
“No,” I blurt before I think. Aren’t girls meant to be coy and mysterious? Perhaps I ought to let him think that I have half a dozen men at my beck and call. But he’d find out soon enough that it wasn’t true.
“Ah.” Paul leans down, his warm breath tickling my neck, his voice a husky whisper. “Would you miss me if I went away again? Is that it?”
I step away, well aware of Lily’s eyes on us. “I asked if you were back for good, and you said we’d see. What does that mean?” My words come out sharper than I intend.
“It means I came back to see you. There are a lot of girls in New London, Cate, and I may have gone a little wild at first. May have called on a few of them, even fancied myself in love. But none of them were you. So after my apprenticeship ended, I decided to come home. What happens next— I suppose that depends on you. I know you were angry with me. Did you miss me at all? Even a little?”
I can’t help laughing at his mock pout. “Of course I missed you. But I—” My eyes fall to my feet, embarrassed. “Where do you mean to live? Here, or New London?”
“Ah. I see.” Paul shifts back into seriousness. “I’m afraid there’s not much business for an architect here in Chatham. Jones has offered me a position as his assistant. I’ve saved up a bit, and—if I were to marry, I could take a house in a decent part of town. I couldn’t imagine my Cate happy in a cramped little flat with no garden.”
My Cate. It’s both sweet and surprisingly possessive. How long has he been saving up to rent a house for us? How long has he entertained the notion of asking me to marry him? It feels like the time I fell off the pigpen fence, all the air knocked out of me. Paul sees my face. “I think you’d like the city, once you got used to it,” he says hopefully.
I look at the spiky yellow dahlias clustered around the base of the fountain. I’ve never wanted to live in the city. But if it were just me, perhaps I could get used to it. “My sisters. I couldn’t leave them.”
Paul cocks his head at me, clearly puzzled. “They could come visit us. They would always be welcome.”
He doesn’t understand. How could he? “Things are different now. Without Mother.”
I bolt, walking as fast as my skirts and stays will allow. If I can’t marry Paul, what will I do? Fear grips me. Perhaps Mother always expected me to marry and move away. Maybe my promise was meant to last only while Maura and Tess were young. Maura’s always insisting that they don’t need me the way they used to.
I wish I could believe that. Z. R.’s warning comes back to me. The three of you are in very great danger. But why? Does someone else know about our witchery?
Paul hurries after me. “I know this must seem very sudden, after I’ve been away so long. Just think about it. Please.”
I nod, blinking back tears. This is ridiculous. Now he’s going to think I am a delicate flower.
We wind through the garden toward the sound of hammering. Lily trails behind us, picking a bouquet for the kitchen table. On the hillside, Finn Belastra is kneeling in the skeleton of the gazebo, pounding the floorboards into place. He looks odd in his shirtsleeves, a hammer in his hand instead of a book.
“Is that Finn Belastra?” Paul asks. “The bookseller’s son?”
“Indeed. He’s our new gardener.” I raise my voice. “Mr. Belastra, the gazebo is coming along nicely!”
“Happy to have me away from your flowers, are you?” There’s a gap between his two front teeth. It makes his smile a bit rakish and all the more charming. He reaches for a sheaf of papers, waving them at me. “It’s all a matter of following directions!”
“Belastra!” Paul calls out, and Finn’s smile vanishes. “Good to see you. Taking up horticulture, I hear? Or are you planning to give me a run for my money?”
“Mr. McLeod is an