Peter gazed in wonder. One moment he’d seen a black raven sitting on a tree limb. The next, a bearded old man seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. «Are you the wizard Merlin who advised King Arthur?» he asked in an awed tone.

«Indeed, I am, son,» Merlin answered. «But I have been around long before King Arthur and his court.»

«Evleen says you can help me.» Peter told the magician how much he loved his dog, Cromwell, and would do anything to save him. When he finished, Merlin smiled down at the boy. «Go back to the kennel, son, and see how Cromwell is faring.»

Evleen watched Peter dart eagerly away. «You have my deepest thanks,» she said to Merlin.

«I am happy to oblige, but do you think it wise to break your promise?»

«It’s never wise to break a promise, nor is it wise to allow a child to suffer needlessly.»

Merlin shook his head in sympathy. «You’re a compassionate woman, Evleen, not deserving of the fate that’s been handed you. Why don’t you allow me to—?»

«No! I broke my promise once, but it’s not likely I shall do it again. As for casting a spell over Lord Beaumont, I absolutely forbid it. I hope you understand.»

«Of course.» The image of Merlin began to fade. «Until we meet again.» The next instant, a black raven spread its wings and silently glided towards the sky.

Evleen heard both a sudden cry and a gasp behind her. Dreading what she would find, she turned. There stood Lydia and Bettina, both staring at her with wide-eyed horror.

With a shaking hand, Bettina pointed to the spot where Merlin had stood. «He. he’s gone! Just disappeared. and the raven was there. I don’t know where he went. It was like magic.»

«It was magic.» Both triumph and scorn blazed in Lydia’s eyes as she addressed Evleen. «You’re a sorceress, just as I suspected all along. Now I have proof of it.»

Evleen stood mute. How could she defend herself when, in essence, what Lydia said was true? Finally she spread her palms wide. «For Peter’s sake, couldn’t you forget what you saw? It will never happen again, I assure you.»

«Absolutely not! As far I am concerned, you will never see Peter again. Come, Bettina.» Lydia took her future sister-in-law’s arm. «We must go tell Mama immediately that my brother has allowed a sorceress to live in our home.»

As they left, a joyous Peter came running through the garden, Cromwell bounding along behind him. It was worth it. Evleen knelt to put her arms around her happy young pupil and receive a lick on the face from an ecstatic Cromwell.

Alone in the drawing room with Lady Beaumont, Evleen sat stiff and straight in her chair, expecting the worst. Her ladyship sat across, lips compressed, nose quivering with suppressed rage. «I am appalled,» she began. «Both Lydia and Bettina saw you engaging in your black magic, or whatever you call it. Were they wrong? What do you have to say for yourself?»

«Not exactly wrong, your ladyship. But you see, I»—

«I shall not tolerate a sorceress in my home!» Lady Beaumont’s anger had turned into scalding fury. She leaped from her chair and started pacing. «I shall wait for my son’s return. He must make the final decision. Meantime, you are relieved of your governess duties.»

Her heart sank. «Not teach Peter? But he’s been making such good progress and I»—

«I don’t want you anywhere near my grandson. To that end, I am moving you to the servants’ floor. You will no longer be welcome in our dining room. You will take your meals in your room. I don’t want to lay eyes on you until Richard returns for his wedding, at which time I shall request he throw you out of this house, which you well deserve.» She pulled herself up, one quivering mass of indignation. «I never wanted you here in the first place. And don’t expect my son will side with you. In this matter he will do as I say.»

Any further explanation would have been useless. Evleen arose from her chair, determined to maintain her dignity if nothing else. «As you wish, Lady Beaumont.» She left the room, head held high, thankful she’d been able to choke back her tears.

In the days before the return of Lord Beaumont, Evleen spent most of her time in her tiny room on the fourth floor. With its lumpy bed, battered chest and cold, bare floor, the room in no way compared with the luxurious bedchamber she’d been forced to vacate. But in her despair she hardly noticed. She spent her time reading, or trying to. How could she concentrate on a book when thoughts of Beaumont’s passionate kiss constantly crept into her mind, when she was full of concern about Peter, who she knew must miss her terribly, just as she missed him? Was he keeping up with his lessons? Had they found a new governess? The servants kept their distance. Not one member of the family talked to her any more, so she had no way of knowing.

As Beaumont’s wedding day approached, the sounds of an increasingly busy household getting ready reached her ears. The wedding itself would take place in the nearby village church. The reception, a glittering affair with 200 expected guests, was to be held at Chatfield Court.

One sound made her cringe: Bettina’s giddy laughter often wafted up to the fourth floor, reminding Evleen that the feather-brained young woman would soon become Beaumont’s bride.

Lord Beaumont returned the day before the wedding. In her tiny room, Evleen was miserably wondering if she would even be allowed to speak to him again when a knock sounded on her door. She thought it must be one of the servants, but to her astonishment, Beaumont stood before her. She drew in her breath. «What are you doing here? I’m sure your mother would not approve.»

«I am not concerned with what Mama thinks,» he answered gruffly, shoving his way past her. «I must talk to you.»

He sat on the room’s one rickety wooden chair. She sat on the bed. «There’s nothing more to say,» she said. «I’m sure your mother has informed you of all you need to know.»

Amusement flickered in his eyes. «Is it true? Are you indeed a sorceress?»

She thought a moment. If she told him the truth, he would doubtless be appalled, as well as angry, thinking she’d deceived him. But her forthright nature decreed she could not do otherwise than be completely honest. She looked him in the eye. «I don’t think of myself as a sorceress, but yes, I have certain magic powers. I have only used them once while here in England and wasn’t planning to use them again. But»—

To her surprise, Richard burst into laughter. «You know magic? But that’s priceless!»

In amazement she asked, «But aren’t you angry? Aren’t you frightened I might cast some sort of evil spell on you?»

«Would you?»

«No, of course not.»

«Well, then, I have nothing to worry about.»

She protested, «But your mother is horrified, and very angry. She can hardly wait to get rid of me.»

Beaumont’s laughter died. He gazed around the tiny room and frowned. «You have been treated abominably. I shall see you are moved immediately.»

«Stop,» she said with a raise of her hand. «Your mother is right. It’s best I leave Chatfield Court as soon as possible. Better for both of us.»

A look of anguish crossed his face. «I love you, Evleen. Those days I spent in London made clear to me how empty my life will be without you.» He stood, pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in his arms. «You don’t have to find another position,» he whispered in her ear. «I could set you up in London. You would never have to want for anything. You could»—

«I will not be a kept woman!» She pushed away from him.

«Of course.» He swallowed hard. «I am so sorry, Evleen. I should have known you would never allow your reputation to be compromised. It’s just. I love you so much. The thought of spending the rest of my life without you is an agony.»

«I feel the same, but what can we do?»

«Nothing. Honour binds us both.» Beaumont took up her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. «Goodbye, my love, my dearest love. I shall remember you always.»

He left then, leaving her to sit in her room and contemplate the lonely years that lay ahead. She knew they’d be lonely because she would never find another man like Richard Beaumont, and she would never settle for less.

The next morning, two piercing screams awoke Evleen from her sleep. They were screams so loud, so terrorizing, she leaped from her bed. Was the house on fire? Had someone been murdered? She flung her robe over her nightgown. Joining the alarmed-looking servants who had also heard the screams, she rushed downstairs to discover bewildered wedding guests, still in their night clothes, milling about, all looking for the source of the curdling shrieks.

When someone said they appeared to have come from the drawing room, Evleen, along with guests and servants, crowded inside, where she saw a strange sight indeed. Bettina’s mother, the renowned Duchess of Derbyshire, lay in a swoon on the sofa, a letter clutched in her hand. A maid held smelling salts under the Duchess’ nose. Lydia knelt beside her, waving a fan. Lady Beaumont looked on, her face so white and drawn Evleen thought she, too, might swoon at any moment.

«What is going on here?» Lord Beaumont, half dressed in breeches and a white shirt open at the throat, entered the room. «Mama, you don’t look well. You had better sit down and tell me what’s happening.»

«What’s going on is beyond belief,» Lady Beaumont said in a voice that rose to near hysteria. She plucked the letter from the Duchess’ fingers and handed it to her son. «It’s a letter from Bettina. Read it.»

With a curious frown Beaumont took the letter and began to read aloud.