Free The Silver Rose by Rowena May O'Sullivan

mediums. That, and she’d paid a goodly sum of money for it even though Aden had discounted it heavily. Somehow it gave her the strength to continue.
    â€œYou were right about Aden.”
    Beth frowned. “Am I missing something here?” She looked from Rosa to Alanna and back again.
    Alanna jumped right in. “Rosa tried to convince me renting the cottage to Aden was a bad idea.”
    â€œReally?” Beth sat back, her surprise evident. “Why?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Rosa shrugged. “I said the same thing to Alanna. I just feel there’s more to why he’s here early.”
    â€œShe thought his presence would affect our circle.” Alanna’s tone was a touch sarcastic. “As if!”
    Beth’s expression softened, and she leaned over to clasp Rosa’s hand, her touch warm and comforting. “We’ve lived so long in that little lane it kind of feels like it’s all ours. But change is good. The fairies tell me Lavender Cottage is happy to have someone caring for it. Their faith in his good nature is enough for me.”
    â€œSo why the sudden change of heart?” Alanna stirred her coffee and clanked the spoon on the side of the cup.
    â€œI’ve not been very upfront with either of you,” Rosa admitted, and at their puzzled expressions, she added, “You’ll understand everything soon enough.”
    It was as if Beth’s fairies hovered in her stomach, their wings missing several beats. She twiddled with her fork, pushing mushrooms from one side of her plate to the other. It was time to reveal everything. She’d had two days to mull her future or lack thereof, and they deserved to know. She owed them an explanation.
    â€œWell?” Both sisters chorused in unison when she paused to gather courage from the Goddess. “What is it?”
    How exactly did she begin? “I’ve … I’ve been hearing things.”
    â€œWhat kind of things?” Alanna popped a couple of painkillers into her mouth and knocked them back with a swig of coffee.
    â€œYou know … things that sound a lot like bells.”
    It didn’t sink in straight away. At first there were blank looks on both faces but, slowly, comprehension dawned. Alanna, despite her headache, was the swiftest to cotton on. First came the widening of her eyes, her pupils dilating as she sucked in a breath. “Witches’ Warts! With knobs on!”
    â€œSuccinct as ever.” Rosa couldn’t help the amused sarcasm slipping from her lips.
    â€œRosa!” Beth slopped coffee on the table and did nothing to mop it up. Tears sprung to her eyes. “How wonderful!”
    If only Rosa, possessed Beth’s trusting assurance, all would go well.
    As for Alanna, the drama queen — well, her reaction was expected. “Bells!” Her sister’s face was devoid of color for all of two seconds. She flushed brightly for a few moments, and then the color fled and she was paler than when she’d arrived at the café nursing a headache. Her hands curled into tight fists. Then, uncharacteristically, she uncurled her fingers and reached out to palm a hand over Rosa’s raven hair.
    Damned if that didn’t make Rosa feel worse. Affection from Alanna was such a rare thing.
    â€œJust so we’re clear,” Alanna prodded, as if she had to hear the truth aloud to believe it. “You
do
mean the Marylebone Bells?”
    â€œThe usual kind for people like us.” Rosa shrugged her shoulders. “You know. Ding-dong. The wicked witch is … well … you know how it goes.”
    Alanna threw herself back in her chair and stared at Rosa as if she had suddenly grown antennae. “Maybe you made a mistake. They don’t ring for everyone. Only really powerful witches.”
    â€œYour confidence in my lack of abilities is overwhelming.” Sarcasm filtered into her voice. It was always those nearest and dearest who