Chapter 19
Bryn did a short Pilates video, showered, groomed, and put on fresh, cute clothes, still totally unsure what to expect. Were they going out somewhere? But if so, what was Amelia getting ready for?
Or maybe this was the night they overcame their reticence to banging in the castle. She was here for it, if Amelia was. Bryn could see how Amelia might want her to feel just as at home there as they both did at the cottage.
Sometime after she was fully ready to go, and sitting expectantly on her only chair, she got a text from Amelia.
Be there to pick you up shortly. Sorry it’s taken so long.
Pick me up? She had considered the idea that maybe Amelia would tell her to meet at the car, or even somewhere on the property, and take a walk.
Though she couldn’t imagine them getting up to any hanky-panky out in the open.
Not unless they had plenty of time to magically shield the area they would be in.
And even then, she couldn’t imagine it. The idea of someone walking by, even if that person was totally oblivious, was a total boner-killer.
She put on her shoes and then fidgeted until the knock came at the cottage door.
Bryn opened it, feeling absurdly nervous, like this was a first date with a serious contender—feeling, in fact, more nervous than she’d felt on any actual first date.
Amelia stood there, looking beautiful, as usual. She had also taken a shower, Bryn thought, noticing her hair still damp and combed back. Her pale skin flushed, which could have been due to the sudden spring chill in the evening air, or … other things. Whatever it was, Bryn found it delightful.
“Hi,” she said. “Um, are you coming in, or am I going out? I’m not sure what to expect, sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I meant to be ready so much sooner than this.” Amelia held out a hand. “I’m taking you somewhere. Not anywhere fancy, don’t get your expectations up, but I think you’ll like it.”
Bryn took a breath, not entirely sure why this felt like more than whatever they’d done in the past. Maybe it was down to how much effort Amelia had put into it, or just the natural progression of a relationship both of them were serious about. She placed her hand in Amelia’s and said, “My lady.”
Amelia grinned. “My lady.” She led them out.
They did not go into the castle. At first, Bryn wasn’t sure where they were going at all.
Around the far side of the main building—away from the gardens, away from Bryn’s cottage—along a path she supposed she’d known was there but had never taken.
Once they rounded the corner and she saw the steps leading down, she remembered.
“Oh gods, are we going to the grotto? I don’t have a bathing suit.”
Amelia smirked. “Do you need a bathing suit? It’s just the two of us.”
“I mean, naked in the grotto?” Bryn realized she was blinking at Amelia with her mouth open as they stood at the top of the steps.
“We can go back for one if you want one,” Amelia said.
“I am totally fine with that. I wasn’t planning to wear one myself.
And obviously I’ve done roughly a million locking charms and sound barriers and blocks for all the windows.
I think I’ve thought of everything, but you might contribute as well and then we’ll be doubly sure. ”
Bryn took this in, nodding slowly. “I’m sure you’ve thought of everything.” She glanced downward, at the stone steps leaning to a nondescript gray door that she suspected was much, much heavier than it looked. Oak, no doubt. Probably oak from this very land. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
Amelia laughed a little nervously. “I don’t know why my heart just started pounding. And I mean, I’m not going to ask you to marry me, just in case you were worried I was about to spring something like that on you.”
“Should I have been?” The idea hadn’t occurred to Bryn, and obviously there was no way, but it was delicious to see Amelia slightly wrong-footed and flushed at the notion.
“No, no, obviously not,” Amelia said quickly.
But the fact that she’d even brought it up made Bryn lean in and kiss her. “Okay, so you aren’t going to propose. Check. But I’m still not totally sure what we are doing? I mean, the grotto, obviously, but …”
They linked hands and went down the steps together.
Amelia waved her wand, presumably to unlock whatever magical lock she’d put in place, and pushed open the door.
A light mist, which rolled into the darkening air outside.
Bryn sucked in a delighted breath at what lay beyond, only distantly aware of the door closing behind her and the sound of mechanical locks re-engaging.
The grotto looked like some human imagining of fairyland.
Lights twinkled everywhere, but not too many: the space still looked shadowy and mysterious, but in a way that was inviting instead of forbidding.
Bryn realized that whatever charms Amelia had done to those high windows, they were good, because she hadn’t even sensed all of this light from outside.
“Oh gods,” she said, her own voice sounding shaky.
Amelia, beside her, asked, “Do you like it?”
There were candles glowing in all the stone alcoves at various intervals along the walls.
There were even candelabras scattered around, on the built-in benches and on the narrow windowsills.
Only as she walked farther into the large, echoing room did she see more.
The twinkly lights inside the pool cast the warmest, most intriguing glow.
Steam rose from the surface of the pool.
Along the top, more candles floated, lit and flickering, their light skating across the water.
Bryn had always imagined this room would feel cold and damp from all that stonework and the constant presence of water, but it didn’t feel dank at all.
It felt warm and cozy, not nearly as humid as she would have thought.
Were there dehumidifier spells? Was that a thing? And if not, could she invent it? She put the thought aside and continued to look around.
Laid out on what appeared to be a thick blanket was a picnic, with two candelabras set up at a corner each casting light down on a spread of cheeses and fruits, breads, olives.
It was beautiful. Bryn felt strange tears prickle at her eyes and turned to Amelia, not even trying to hide them.
“I can’t believe you did all this for me. ”
“Of course I did,” Amelia said, “I love you.” And then she shrugged the robe she was wearing off her shoulders. And she was beautifully, gloriously naked beneath it, only wearing her shoes.
“Oh my,” Bryn murmured, stepping forward for a long kiss, the kind of kiss she felt all the way to her toes. “You are a miracle, Amelia Hexford.”
“I am a woman in love,” Amelia said, correcting her. She blew out a breath. “Not to ruin the mood, but I was kind of counting on you going around and topping up my spells with yours, if that’s okay.”
“Oh, sure,” Bryn said, though she didn’t move away. “Sure, of course, I would like that too. I just …” Her hands brushed very lightly down Amelia’s back, who shivered. “It’s hard to focus with you, you know … all naked and gorgeous.”
Amelia stooped and put the robe back on, which made sense, though it did inspire Bryn to lean forward and whisper, “I’m going to be the one to take that off later. Just so you know. I’m really looking forward to it.”
Amelia kissed her fervently. “That better be a promise. Now go do magic. Can I watch? Do you mind?”
“Oh, not at all. Be my guest.”
As Bryn walked the perimeter of the grotto, she could sense Amelia’s magic.
Not everyone was sensitive to such things, but Bryn certainly always had been, and it was uncanny how Amelia’s magic affected her.
They cast slightly different versions of the same spells for the most part—barriers preventing all sounds and lights from escaping the room—with their own personal twists.
That was just how magic worked: every person’s magic had a slightly different tone, a slightly different cadence, just as voices did.
She’d known that, and she’d sensed it herself.
But she had never done this before, never specifically intertwined her magic with someone else’s, reaching out to fold and twist them together.
There were stories of witches back in the persecution days combining spells to strengthen them, but Bryn had never been sure if that referred to blending their energies or merely layering them.
Now she realized the scope of power available to two witches who wished to connect along their magic, and it was shockingly intimate.
She wondered if Amelia felt it too; if she, watching nearby, could sense this somehow.
Bryn was almost afraid to ask, as if discovering that Amelia didn’t see it, couldn’t sense it, would be disappointing.
But when she glanced over, Amelia’s eyes were not on her.
They were on the twisting patterns of spellfire all around them.
“You see it,” Bryn said softly.
Amelia, not taking her eyes from the sight, nodded. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s us,” Bryn said. She continued working, her wand a conductor’s baton, playing through the energies of the room, tightening the spells until they were in their own little world, buffered on all sides by magic.
It became, after a few minutes, not just more comfortable, but more effective.
She realized while pulling on the last shimmering threads that she was deeply, profoundly aroused by the process.
Combining their magic intensified everything she felt—for Amelia, for their relationship, for the future.
She was sweating lightly by the time she finished, and she turned to Amelia, who embraced her, pressing their bodies together, breathing in sync.
“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Amelia murmured.
“Me too. I’ve never done that before.”
Amelia shook her head. “They did not teach us this in school.”