Page 15 of Her Magnificent Mistake
As he backed from the room, Lady Mistree reached for Bull’s hand—he still stood beside her—fixed them both with smiles, and announced without a seeming care in the world, “I am dying.”
Marcia’s stomach dropped.
Her brother went one further, dropping to one knee and gathering the old woman’s hands in his. “Nay,” Bull cried, evidently upset. “Dinnae say—Eliza, ye’re strong?—”
“And ninety-seven years old, dear one.” She lifted her hands to place a kiss on Bull’s fingers. “I miss my Reggie fiercely, and I have had a wonderful time here in this world. Allow me the grace to know when I am ready to leave it?”
Since Bull was still looking surprisingly shaken, Marcia supposed it was up to her to be diplomatic. “We are sorry to hear this, milady.” She perched on the edge of the chair she’d initially taken. “I know you have been a dear friend to my brother.”
“Yes indeed.” Lady Mistree winked at her and, ignoring Bull’s presence at her side, directed her words to Marcia. “And he has told me ever so much about his friends and family. I know all about you, and the twins Hunter and Gabby, and Merida the artist, even young Rose. I feel as if I know you all well, despite only recently meeting you.”
Surprised, and a little flustered, Marcia realized she was also blushing. “I am…thank you, milady. I wish…”I had the chance to know you as well.
But the countess tsked and pulled her hand free from Bull’s just enough to pat his arm. “Bull is a dear friend, not just to me but to you all as well, and he is a boy that cares deeply. He has convincedmeto care deeply for you as well, and as such, I am minded to give you your inheritance early.”
Marcia’s lips parted, but no sound emerged.
My…inheritance?
Since Lady Mistree was beaming at her, Marcia suspected the widow knew exactly how surprising such an announcement was.
“But—” Marcia shook her head, but the pronouncement still made no sense. “Milady, I am not… You have no need…”
“Inheritance, Eliza?” Bull blurted. “We are no’ yer heirs.”
Eyes twinkling, the countess patted his hand again. “Yes, you are. I have no children—a choice Gerald and I never regretted, let it be known—and I can leave my treasures to whomever I wish. I wish to leave Marcia her inheritancenow, before Jones returns with the tea cart. We must have used up at least three of the allotted five-to-seven minutes already.”
“You—you do not need to give me anything,” Marcia whispered, twisting her hands in front of her.
“I know.” The elderly woman grinned. “I just like seeing your surprised expression. Here, my dear.” She nudged the small box toward Bull. “Bring that to your sister.”
Still wearing a stunned look, Bull managed to get to his feet and stumble toward Marcia. She took the box while eyeing him in worry.
He was taking Lady Mistree’s announcement a little hard, wasn’t he?
Marcia wasn’t truly paying attention as she opened the lid, her awareness more focused on her brother, but Bull’s sharp inhalation had her dropping her gaze to what she held in her lap.
“Oh my,” she whispered, reaching into the interior to lift a glittering blue pendant on a chain. “I have never seen a stone sparkle so…”
“That is because it is no stone, my dear,” Lady Mistree declared gleefully. “It is anamulet, and it contains a very special secret.”
Still in shock, Marcia lifted the chain to allow the pendant to dangle free, turning and twinkling in the light. Now she could look closer, she could see it reallywasn’ta stone, but a smallglass bulb. Inside it, specks and sparkles danced in a way she’d never before imagined. Movement. Complexity. Mystery.
“Eliza,” growled Bull. “Whatare yedoing?”
“I’mgivingmyheirherinheritance,” the dowager stressed in return. “Marcia, that amulet is no stone, it is ahome. A home to a spirit, trapped inside the glass. As long as you treasure that pendant, no harm will come to you.”
“No harm?” Marcia whispered, still entranced by the way the light danced within the small glass pendant. What on earth?—
“He will watch over you, my dear.”
At her side, Bull snorted. “Ye expect us to believe ye’ve captured aspriteand imprisoned it within a tiny chamber? It’s likely oil and powdered lapis, aye?”
“Oh, you can tut, my dear,” said Lady Mistree in a sing-song voice, “but doubting will not remove the truth. Marcia, my dear, put on the necklace. Claim your protection.”
Blinking, Marcia dragged her gaze away from the blue twinkling, to the elderly lady whose eyes were not wholly dissimilar. “I-I beg your pardon?”
“Put it on.This is your inheritance from me, and as long as you treasure it, the spirit will protect you from his tiny home.”
