Free Whistle Down the Wind (Mystic Moon) by Sibelle Stone Page B

he
resists you so strongly, how did you make him agree to corroborate your lies?”
Aelwyd’s voice dripped with incredulity, like wax from a sputtering candle.
    Catlin shook
her head. “I’m not sure why he didn’t tell Lord Cranbourne the truth today.”
She licked her lips. “But he was in the room last night when I cast the spell
to heal his friend.” 
    Her sister
stared at her, an expression of shock and horror widened Aelwyd's eyes and
silenced her for several long minutes.
    “You let him
watch you?” Aelwyd spat at her like a furious house cat. “What kind of silly
dunderhead are you?”
    Catlin
couldn’t find the words to defend her actions. To allow a sophor to
witness a magical rite was one of the most serious offenses a witch could
commit.
    “Why didn’t
you use a sleeping spell upon him?” Aelwyd marched back and forth across the
smooth wood floor, stumbling upon the edge of one of the Persian carpets.
    “I told you,
he resisted the spell I tried to put upon him, and I had already asked the sylphs for their assistance to escape from the gaol.”
    To remind
her sister of what had transpired in the confines of the jail was a mistake. Aelwyd’s
wrath spun out to the far corners of the room. “Can I assume that you called
upon your elemental spirits to help you perform your escape?”
    When Catlin
nodded, Aelwyd bowed her head.
    “We shall
all be strung up at the gallows for practicing witchcraft!” The doom in her
sister's voice made Catlin shiver.
    ’Twas
Catlin’s greatest fear, yet she trusted Griffin Reynolds more then any man
she’d ever known despite their brief acquaintance.
    “Sir
Reynolds gave me his word not to divulge my secret, and so far he has kept that
promise.”
    “The word of
a Cavalier,” Aelwyd spat as she rolled her eyes. “You’ve hardly chosen the most
trustworthy of allies. The King sets a standard for his men with a lewd and
debauched court that values the ways of a libertine more than that of
chivalry.”She paused, one long fingernail tapping her temple. “Yet he lied for
you, and to someone who appears to be an old and treasured friend.” She folded
her arms across her chest. “Are you sure you didn’t cast even a tiny spell upon
him?”
    Catlin
shifted uncomfortably. Should she divulge her loveliest secret?
    “Well, there
was the kiss.” She tried to mask the words with an innocent smile. “It was just
a little one.”
    Aelwyd
stared at her, and after a few moments, laughed. “My dear bychan cat,
you have no idea whatsoever what you have done, do you?”
    Catlin
resented being referred to as a little cat, even if it was a family endearment.
She shook her head. The kiss had excited her in ways she wished she could
discuss with her older sister, but now was not an appropriate time to query her
about men and carnality.
    And why was
Aelwyd laughing at her?
     

 
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    Griffin
leaned back in his chair and took a large gulp of claret. He’d discarded coffee
in favor of stronger spirits once the Glyndwr sisters were escorted to their
suite of rooms.
    Morgan
joined him, taking a hefty swig from his own goblet. “Extraordinary,” he said.
    “They are
unique creatures, I vow.” Griffin took another drink, draining the goblet.
“’Tis a good thing they’re not in London, for the King would be wooing both
ladies to his bed. And likely at the same time.”
    Morgan
laughed, and the sound delighted Griffin. Seeing the Viscount returned to full
and robust health had been worth any price, even if magic had been involved.
Although in the light of day, Griffin would not credit it. Spells, witchcraft
and demons were ancient wives’ tales, and in this modern day, when even the
King accepted the validity of the natural sciences, it was not an acceptable
explanation for what had happened last night.
    Yet, Griffin
could not discount what he’d seen with his own eyes. He’d watched in awe as
Catlin Glyndwr did something to Morgan. And this morning,