The Bewitched Baron
Lynn Collum
When Wyndom Long, Baron Newlyn, a noted botanist who pays little attention to the gaiety of the ton, engages Naomi Clayton as his shy sister's companion, he is startled by the girl he remembers as plain and reserved. Naomi is a sparkling presence in his home, where all sorts of odd things suddenly begin to happen, and a glint of innocent mischief in her eyes makes him wonder if love is meant to feel so magical...
A BEWITCHING KISS
"Miss Clayton?" Lord Newlyn's voice sounded from behind her.
His unexpected presence startled her, and she almost tumbled headlong into the bushes. His lordship's strong hands grabbed her about the waist and pulled her back from the brink of an accident. As he pulled her upright, she lost her balance, and both his arms slid around her. She found her body pressed against his. A strange silence seemed to fall over the garden. For just a moment, he held her close in the moonlight's silvery glow. A tremble of something unexpected raced through Naomi as she turned her face up to his, wanting and longing for something that she shouldn't desire.
A magic as strong as any spell she'd ever done seemed to engulf them, and his warm mouth closed over hers. In that instant, as her body trembled from head to toe, she realized that, magic or no, she'd lost her heart to him....
Zebra, published by Kensington Publ. Corp.
Copyright 2003
Chapter 1
On a chilled September afternoon, the Marlborough stage rambled to a halt in front of The Block and Barrel Inn. A cloud of dust simultaneously rolled in to announce its arrival. Two chambermaids rushed to the windows of the public room, so rare was the occasion when a stage put down passengers at this remote crossroad in County Wiltshire. To their disappointment, a lone female stepped down, dressed in an unfashionable brown traveling gown. The young lady looked more like a frightened rabbit than bold traveler as she eyed the rather rundown accommodations. The coachman tossed down a portmanteau beside the lady, then tugged his hat before he picked up the reins and shouted, "Walk on." In moments the stagecoach was gone, leaving the young woman to fend for herself.
Losing interest in such a primly dressed female who hadn't even a maid, the serving women returned to the task of clearing tankards and crockery off the tables. In whispered undertones, they questioned whether she was the new governess for Lady Halsham or for the Purvises. Either way they didn't envy her the task.
In front of the inn, Miss Naomi Clayton looked about as a 
10                            Lynn Collum
tremor of uncertainty quaked through her. She had never traveled beyond the borders of her father's parish in the North Riding of Yorkshire in all of her twenty years, and here she was now miles from everyone and everything she'd ever known. It certainly had not been her choice to remain so isolated, for she had longed to come to visit her aunts, who regularly sent her delightful gifts which her father had always refused to allow her to keep. Stranger still, the reverend had been adamant about her never seeing her Aunt Bebe and Aunt Iona. He gave no explanation other than they weren't a proper influence on moral young ladies. But where else was she to go? Papa had died so suddenly, and the new vicar and his family had already taken possession of the vicarage.
Mustering her courage, Naomi picked up her bag and stepped into the darkened hallway of the inn. The innkeeper approached and inquired what he might do for her in an impatient tone. He gave her an assessing look, which clearly found her wanting.
"I should like to hire a gig to take me to Hawthorn Cottage, sir." She smiled politely, with the hope of removing the frosty look in the man's gray eyes.
The rotund old man's brows rose. "Hawthorn? Are ye certain, miss? Don't often get requests to go that far out."
"I am expected, sir." She had sent her aunts a letter two days after her father's passing, and they had immediately sent funds for her to come to Wiltshire.
The old man took a step back with something akin to dread in his dark eyes. Then, after a moment's thought, he shouted for Toby. "I ain't certain any of me lads will want to go, miss, what with all the strange doings out there. But if any will, it'll be Toby, him not knowing what's what."
Before Naomi could question the man, a tall, blond lad in his teens with a dirty shirt and worn buckskins stepped through the rear door. "Aye, Mr. Ferris, was ye wantin' me?"
"Are ye willin' to take the lady out to Hawthorn Cottage at Wood End?"
There was a rather simple look in the lad's face which
THE BEWITCHED BARON11
made Naomi wonder if the boy was quite right, but when he looked her straight in the eyes, an innocence there made her fears fade. Simple he might be, but there was no wickedness in that face. "Aye, sir. I'll hitch ol' Bess and be right back, miss."
After paying the innkeeper, Naomi waited on a bench in the hall. In the other room, she could hear one little maid berating the old man for sending the beef-witted boy out to "that place." What was wrong with her aunts' cottage? She was tempted to ask, but then she would be there in a short while to see for herself.
Toby soon arrived with the gig. She exited the inn, shoved her portmanteau under the seat, and climbed up. The trip through the Wiltshire countryside was lovely. There had been just enough cool weather to make the leaves turn colors, and the air was heavy with the smell of wild roses and honeysuckle. The young ostler chattered rather inanely about the weather, about one of the maids at the inn who gave him extra biscuits, and he pointed out landmarks of interest.
When they crested the top of one hill, Toby pointed to the left. "There it be, miss. Hawthorn Cottage. Me ma brought me here once when I was just a lad, hopin' the ladies would fix me brain box, but"—the lad chuckled—"the lady said mere ain't no fixin' what God intended."
His words sent a feeling of goodwill racing through Naomi. Clearly her aunts did their part to aid and assist the locals who fell ill. She couldn't imagine what the ladies could have done to set her father so against them. Perhaps they were great proponents of Mrs. Wollstonecraft's views about female rights, for her father had very traditional ideas.
In the glen at the bottom of the next hill sat her aunts' small, squat cottage with its gray slate roof. Smoke curled slowly out of the large chimney. The afternoon sun gave the ancient orange brick of the cottage the look of burnished copper. The garden surrounding the house appeared to have had little attention. Hawthorn hedges had been allowed to grow full, with long tendrils extending out, giving the plants
12                            Lynn Collum
a ragged, unkempt look. The weathered front door of the cottage was nearly obscured by the foliage which draped the flagstone walk.
When the carriage drew to a halt, Naomi tipped the lad. She took her portmanteau and entered the garden gate as Toby ordered his horse home. When she approached the house, the scent of lavender overwhelmed her, and she could see the cottage was completely encircled by the silvery bushes full of the tiny purple flower. There was nothing so sweet as the scent of English lavender, but it was quite odd to see it blooming this late in the autumn.
Before Naomi could knock, the door opened and two plump women stepped to the stoop. They were both flamboyantly dressed in vivid reds, purples, and blues, without the least thought to the latest fashion. One was tall and raven-haired, the other short with long tresses the color of a fiery sunset. The taller woman stepped forward and embraced Naomi. "Oh, my dear, we have been waiting for years to see you and here you are all grown-up ... a pox on Rufus for keeping you from us." She held the girl at arm's length, tears in her eyes. "You look so like your mother, does she not, Bebe?"
Aunt Bebe shook her head even as she took Naomi's hand. "Nonsense, lona, for she has her father's blue eyes, and Kendra's hair had a hint of red, which Naomi's does not."
lona sniffed. "Well, let us hope eye color is all she inherited from him."
Naomi began to protest that her father was a good man, but Bebe pushed her demurs aside. "Yes, yes, child I am certain he was very worthy, like most vicars." A look passed between the two sisters that Naomi was unable to fathom.
"Now"—Bebe drew her niece into the circle of her arm— "do come in. We have much to tell you, but first tea, for I am certain you are tired after your long journey."
The ladies led her into the front parlor, which was a rather strange room. It was cluttered with a variety of furniture which was quite old, but quite ordinary. It was what else the room held that made Naomi's brows rise. Pots, jugs, and bot-
THE BEWITCHED BARON13
tles sat on shelves along the walls of the room. An exotic scent hung in the air which she couldn't quite determine, but the aroma wasn't unpleasant. Despite the clutter, it was an inviting environment, done in warm yellows and greens, with a variety of wildflowers stuffed into many of the open containers scattered about the room.
To Naomi's delight, she spied a great black cat curled up on an overstuffed chair. Her father had always forbidden her to keep pets at the vicarage. On seeing her, the sleek animal rose and came to rub himself on Naomi's skirts.
Iona announced, "That is Suma." Then she led her niece to the chair the cat had recently vacated. The large feline climbed on the hearth and sat on his haunches to stare at the guest with his bright golden eyes.
It was soon apparent that the ladies of Hawthorn Cottage had no servants, but they seemed to manage quite well. They took turns going into the kitchen to prepare the refreshments. At last all three were seated before the unlit fireplace. Tea was a lovely affair, with sandwiches, poppy seed cakes, macaroons, and almond biscuits the likes of which Naomi had never before tasted. While they ate, the aunts questioned her about her life at Longbridge Manse. She told them her father had been strict but loving, allowing her little time for social matters. Most of her time had been taken up with helping the needy in the parish. She didn't tell them her father insisted benevolent activities delivered young ladies from sinful acts. Although she hadn't understood what he meant, for there had been no young men interested in a penniless vicar's daughter.
Iona picked up a macaroon, and took a small bite. "So you like helping others, do you?"
"I do." Naomi smoothed the napkin in her lap. "I often wished I could do more than take them calves'-foot jelly and clean linens."
Smiles appeared on both of the old women's faces. "Well, calves'-foot jelly and clean linens are a thing of the past, child. Do you not wish for a bit of excitement and fun?"
14                            Lynn Collum
Naomi looked from one to the other. "I don't understand."
Bebe rose and went to stand in front of the fireplace. "What did your father tell you of your mother, my dear?"
"Why, very little. In fact, I found he rarely wished to speak of Mother. It seemed a bit too painful. I know that she died very young, but from what, he never said."
Bebe sighed. "Ah, were there two people more poorly suited than Kendra and Rufus? We tried to warn her, my dear. One simply does not marry without telling the groom the truth first. Tis my belief she died of a broken heart."
"The truth about what?" Naomi asked, wondering what dark secret her mother might have had. Had there been another man before her father? The very thought shocked Naomi.
"Yes, child. The truth is she should have told him she was a witch." Bebe folded her hands in front of her.
"And"—Iona took the last macaroon—"your father didn't approve."
Naomi stood on hearing the disturbing words. "A-a witch? My mother?" She looked from one aunt to the other, thinking to see some denial, but the old women stared back at her with calm assurance that she would accept this outlandish tale.
"Just as you are, my dear," Bebe added, a twinkle starting in her brown eyes.
Naomi shook her head. So this was what her father had been trying to protect her from. Two demented old women who had delusions about witchcraft. What would she do now that she realized these two old ladies were quite chuckled-brained, to say the least? Where was she to go? Gathering her wits, she calmly announced, "I am no witch, Aunt."
Iona rose and came to her. "But you are, my dear. The power is passed from mother to daughter. Although you have not been trained to use that power you possess, you are in fact a witch."
Naomi began to wonder just how long it would take her to walk back to The Block and Barrel. There would be no way
THE BEWITCHED BARON15
she could make it before nightfall. Perhaps if she went to London, the dowager Lady Newlyn, her father's benefactor, might consent to write a recommendation. Naomi hadn't seen her ladyship in some years, not since the dowager had sent her granddaughter away to school and gone to Bath to be near the girl.
Iona sighed. "She doesn't believe us, sister."
"I see that. So we must show her the truth." Bebe turned her back to the girl and said, "Susto fogo."
Naomi stumbled back into her seat when the logs in the fireplace burst into flames. She couldn't believe what had just happened.
Iona eyed Naomi with a grin, then swept her arm and called, "Troca femme."
A strange tingle raced over Naomi, and when she looked down, her-plain brown gown had been changed into a lovely blue muslin with tiny white stripes in the latest fashion. Her hair was no longer neatly bound at the nape of her neck but hung in curls about her ears. With trembling fingers, she touched the fabric of her dress to make certain it was real.
Naomi couldn't make her mind grasp this strange turn of events. "Witches ... but—but they are evil, are they not?"
Bebe folded her arms over her ample bosom. "That is your father and his ilk's thinking, but a true witch is whatever is in her heart, my dear. If she is good, then her powers are for good, but if she possesses evil in her soul, then she will go to the dark forces of magic. The very few bad witches have blackened our reputation so we are forced to hide the truth from the world."
"So magic is not evil." Relief raced through Naomi, and at the same time a spark of excitement that she too might one day possess such power.
"Evil? Of course not, child," Bebe said, and stepped forward to take her niece's hand. "But we have a great deal of lost time to make up for since you missed your anointment at sixteen."
Iona hurried to a bookshelf on the far wall and pulled
16                            Lynn Collum
down an ancient leather-bound volume and brought it to Naomi. "You have a great deal to learn about your heritage. Then we shall begin with the simplest of spells. If you study hard, you will be ready to be inducted into the coven on All Saint's Eve, just over a month away."
Naomi flipped open the large tome to the title page, which read Necromancy and the Novice. Did she truly have some untapped power which had yet to be awakened? If so, she had a great deal to learn. The truth was she wanted to believe in the possibilities, as improbable as it seemed.
The two sisters moved to the tea table and began to put everything back on the tray. "We shall leave you to begin, my dear. We will be in the next room if you have any questions." With that, they left Naomi staring into the still blazing fire, utterly befuddled at the strange turn her Ufe had taken.
The room grew quiet and Naomi's thoughts turned to her father. She knew he wouldn't have approved of her studying such mings, but she couldn't believe that her mother had been evil, nor her aunts. She would at least study the book to find out the truth.
The black cat stood, drawing Naomi's attention. The animal unhurriedly stretched, arching his back high.
"Well, Suma, I suppose you are magical as well."
The feline stared at her a moment, said, "Decidedly so," then leaped from the hearth, slinking from the room in long fluid strides, leaving Naomi in stunned silence.

"Why am I not surprised to find you here, lurking among your weeds?" The dowager Lady Newlyn stood in the doorway of the conservatory. Her grandson had converted the large space into a plant room to keep the specimens he collected from round the world. Her nose crinkled at the pungent scent of some of the exotic blooms. An elegant woman whose sixty years weighed lightly upon her willowy frame, her only concession to age was a cane with a crystal globe
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  17
on top on which she leaned. Her deep green morning gown was fashionable without being too youthful, and her white hair was pulled into a regal knot that had been covered by a lovely scrap of ecru Brussels lace.
Her grandson politely rose, his eyes remaining on the notes he was making about a new variety of chimaphila he'd acquired from a friend recently returned from San Francisco. Little about the gentleman looked like a proper baron. He stood among the potted plants in his shirt sleeves, wearing a green damask waistcoat, which in his rush that morning he'd partially buttoned, and tan breeches of a superior cut. Yet the negligent way in which he wore them showed he had not the least interest in fashion. His sandy brown hair was overly long for the current mode and brushed his shoulders in soft waves, as if he'd forgotten to summon the barber in the last months, which he had, his thoughts too full of his plants. "Grandmother, is there something I might do for you?"
"You can show as much interest in your sister's well-being as you have this botany nonsense, my boy."
Wyndom Long's, tenth Baron Newlyn's, gaze flew to his grandmother's face. "Is there something wrong with Marion? She was quite well and engaged in drawing a picture of a rhamnus purshiana for me in the library when last I saw her this morning."
"Must I remind you that the child turned eighteen three months ago? We have a duty to present her this Season." The lady held up a cluster of invitations clutched in her fingers. "All the noted hostesses have invited her to their daughters' come-out balls, and I cannot delay in responding any longer. They well know we have been in town this past month, since your name has been in the paper on several occasions because of your speeches to this Linen Society."
"Linnean Society, madam, named for noted naturalist Carl von Linne." A frown wrinkled Wyndom's brow. "I cannot think that Marion will wish to go about wasting her time with such nonsense. Moreover, she is far too shy. Why, she stutters whenever she meets anyone new." He picked up a
18Lynn Collum
sprig of the plant he'd been studying and eyed it thoughtfully. " Tis my belief she is quite content working here with me."
"Do you intend to leave your sister sitting permanently on the shelf? You may be in love with science and content with the cold embrace of plants, but Marion deserves to have a husband, children, all the things young ladies dream about. I had not thought you quite so selfish, Wyndom."
The baron's hand dropped to his side, his gaze returning to his elderly grandparent. "You are being rather melodramatic, Grandmother. Marion is hardly on the shelf at eighteen. Nor am I without prospects. Once Miss Ragsdale comes out of mourning for her father, I have quite decided to make her an offer. It is what her father would have wanted, and I owe him a great deal." He would have stopped then, but, seeing his grandmother's disapproving frown, he added, "Her serious manner suits me."
"Old Ragsdale wanted you to oversee her affairs for her, which doesn't mean you must marry the chit. She hasn't the temperament for being a baron's wife, for she must be a hostess for you, but then what am I saying? The only company she is like to keep married to you would be with the estate's flora and fauna." The old lady ignored her grandson's frown and continued. "All the better for Marion. You will have someone to fill her place and she can do what she should be doing, making her bow to Society."
Wyndom's frown deepened. "Miss Ragsdale hasn't Marion's light touch with a pencil. I cannot—"
"You cannot be so simple as to think I shall allow you to lock that child up when she should be dancing the night away. Marry that prim little widgeon if you must, but Marion must have her Season."
With a sigh, the gentleman came to where his grandmother stood glaring defiantly at him. "I have never locked my sister away from Society. She owns as much interest in botany as I do." He stroked his clean shaven chin as his gaze roved over the billowing plants. "If this is so important to
THE BEWITCHED BARON19
you, then by all means dress her in frills and take her to all the parties, plays, and al fresco picnics. Find her a husband."
Lady Newlyn shook her head, placing her free hand upon one slender hip. "I am not sixteen, dear boy. I am sixty and cannot be burning the candle at both ends."
"Then why are we having this conversation?" Wyndom moved back to the desk where he had been working. "I have no intention of parading before the ton's matchmaking old prunes, even for dear Marion."
A thumping echoed in the glass room as her ladyship made her way down the steps. "Marion is going to have her Season despite your disinterest and my infirmity. The solution is to have someone come who can be her companion at all these affairs."
The baron eyed his grandmother with respect, despite his reluctance to agree with her. She was never one to give up when faced with a problem. "Well, I suppose that no one would take offense if Miss Ragsdale were to—"
"Of course they would take offense. The young woman does not open her mouth except to lecture people on the error of their ways. There would be nothing more certain to dash Marion's chances of marriage than to subject the ton to Miss Ragsdale as her companion. Besides, she has two full months before she can put away her mourning gowns, and she would never do anything mat wasn't proper."
The baron's face grew grim. "Grandmother, I cannot have you speaking of the woman I intend to marry—"
The sounds of a door closing echoed in the hallway beyond the conservatory, and the pair looked up to see Miss Marion Long approaching, a bundle of paper in her hand. There was little remarkable about the tall and slender young woman. Her hair was mouse brown and pulled into a tight chignon at the base of her neck, which only made her face appear too long. She had a wide mouth but a rather sharp nose which, along with the stark hairstyle, gave her face a somewhat hawkish appearance. Her one fine feature: a pair of emerald green eyes which were thickly lashed.
20Lynn Collum
Miss Long stopped at the top of the small set of steps. "I-is something wrong?"
"No, child." Lady Newlyn moved back to where her granddaughter stood. "I was just explaining to Wyndom that I had invited Miss Clayton to come for the Season."
A smile lit Marion's face, making her appear quite handsome even with her plain features. "Naomi! Why, I should love to have her come. I can take her to the British Museum, to the plays, the opera, and to Astley's Amphitheatre."
The dowager smiled and nodded her head. "If you wish, but you mustn't tire yourselves too much, for the important thing will be the balls and the parties."
Marion's face fell. "Y-you know I—I am not good at p-parties, Grandmama."
The old woman came to the foot of the stairs and put out her hand to the girl, who came down and grasped it like a drowning child. "At first, perhaps, but you will be quite at ease once you have Naomi at your side. Her calm good sense will be all that is needed to put you at ease."
Marion looked doubtfully at her brother, then back to her grandmother. "I always enjoy her company, and I shall do my best to make you proud, but..." She hesitated a moment before she added, "Must I stand about to be fitted for gowns and such? I do so detest the dressmakers."
"Of course you must, child. One must look one's best in Society."
The young lady sighed. "Well, I hope you both won't be disappointed if no gentleman makes me an offer."
Wyndom moved to where the two women stood. "Marion, do not allow Grandmother to make you think you are compelled to marry. Know that you will always have a place in my home."
Lady Newlyn's eyes narrowed. "Yes, along with Miss Ragsdale. It seems your brother has decided to make the lady an offer."
There was a slight widening of Marion's eyes, and she looked questioningly at her brother.
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  21
"I shall be thirty on my next birthday. Don't you think it time I set up my nursery?" He eyed his sister warily. His grandmother's reaction had made him rather guarded.
The young lady looked to her grandmother, who rolled her eyes, then looked away. "You have my f-felicitations, Wyn."
"Thank you." Wyndom shot his grandmother a smug look, which faded at his sister's next-words.
The young lady gripped Lady Newlyn's arm with vise-like fingers. "We must begin my fittings with Madam Celeste ... at once. Time is wasting."
Lady Newlyn wrapped her arm through Marion's. "My thoughts exactly."
The baron watched the two women disappear back into the hall with mixed feelings. He was glad they were at last gone so he could finish his work on his paper, which was due to be presented by the end of the next week. But the need to convince the ladies they were wrong about Amaryllis Ragsdale almost made him summon them back. He couldn't deny there was some truth to his grandmother's complaint that Amaryllis was a bit severe at times, but no doubt life as the daughter of the world's foremost botanist could not have been easy. As Amos Ragsdale's protégé, it somehow seemed appropriate to Wyndom that he should be the one to marry the young woman. After all, he had been the one to drag the old gentleman down to the West Indies last year on their final plant hunt, where the old man had fallen ill and died. Besides, he certainly didn't want one of those fashionable creatures who needed to be wined and dined at every turn. Amaryllis would never give him a moment's worry on that account.
Confident in his choice of females, Wyn returned to his table and again picked up the small sprig of chimaphila. But his thoughts returned to his sister. Perhaps it was for the best that she marry and create a life of her own. Amaryllis did seem to find fault with everything Marion did or said. At least he wouldn't have to worry about the girl's Season. His memory of Miss Clayton was of a dully dutiful daughter of
22                               Lynn Collum
Longbridge's vicar. Who better to escort his sister about town?

"Try again, my dear." Iona Ware sat perched on a rock beside the lovely pond in the woods behind Hawthorn Cottage, where she watched her niece. Suma was crouched nearby, his eyes tiny slits to exhibit how little he cared about the goings on.
At the water's edge, Naomi closed the spell book and set it aside, then dropped to her knees beside the small fire. From the wooden case beside her, she selected some items. "One leaf from the top of the hawthorn tree." She dropped the leaf into the small cauldron. 'Ten drops of myrrh, a pinch of powdered hermit's bone, the scales of a trout, and the petal of a waterlily." She added the ingredients one at a time, then folded her hands together in front of her. She closed her eyes to concentrate. "Susto cascalho."
Iona chuckled. "Open your eyes, Naomi."
The girl opened one squinted orb to see her handiwork. She relaxed and opened her other eye when she saw that she had conjured a large green frog on a rock at the water's edge. "I did it." She scrambled to her feet. "Did you see that, Suma? I did it."
The cat yawned and stretched, then settled back on the rock. "Is it time to dine yet?"
Iona slid from the rock. "Remember your manners, Suma, or you might find yourself banished to a land where they dine on cats."
Suma's eyes widened, and he cocked his head. "Jolly good trick, Naomi." Then the feline grinned up at his mistress.
Iona moved to where her niece stood, but before she could critique the spell, a soft breeze whispered through the trees around the pond and Bebe materialized in the nearby clearing. "I'm back from town. Naomi, put away your things. Iona and I will go and prepare the tea."
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  23
"But it is early and there is a little problem with Naomi^—" Iona began, but stopped when her sister interrupted.
"There are important matters that have come to my attention." Bebe held up a missive which had the seal broken. The fledgling witch missed the look that passed between the two asters.
"We will discuss your conjuring later, my dear." Iona joined her sister, and they hurried back toward the cottage.
Naomi sat for a moment eyeing the results of her potion with satisfaction. Then, to her horror, the frog smiled at her with even white teeth that would make any Englishman jealous. She quickly pointed at the large amphibian and called, Terminar." That had been the first thing she had learned from her aunts—how to get rid of a magical accident.
In a puff of sparkling smoke, the frog disappeared and Naomi settled beside her herb box. What had she done wrong? She picked up the spell book and shook her head. Aloud she said, "Too much myrrh?" She closed the book and dejectedly began to put things away. The simplest of things could make a spell go awry. Her aunts kept telling her that things would go more smoothly once she got her confidence, but at present that didn't seem to be happening.
Naomi had been diligently studying the art of witchcraft for over six months, and only recently had her aunts decided that she fully comprehended the rules satisfactorily to allow her to begin doing big spells. It was far more complicated than she had ever thought, but she had mastered many of the simple spells such as levitating objects, making fire, and curing minor illnesses. Yet it all had been quite different from what she had believed about witches.
Her first surprise had been to discover that unless one intended to embrace the dark arts, which she certainly did not, a witch never performed magic for personal gain. Oh, one could conjure a meal or perhaps clothing, but never must one conjure gold or money. It was certainly an unfortunate fact, for her aunts' financial situation was not at all good. Neither having married, they only managed to get by on the
24                            Lynn Collum
meager income they derived from the people who came to them for potions. And there was always the danger that an unsatisfied patron might report them.
For Naomi, there was also the difficulty of remembering the exact portions in brewing potions. Her aunts blamed her late start, for most young witches were inducted into their coven years earlier. She knew it would only require more practice. They often reminded her that patience was a virtue.
Frustrated by her slow progress, Naomi picked up her herb box and spell book and headed back to me cottage. Somehow it seemed strange that despite their powers they were rather at the mercy of fate as far as their lives were concerned.
Inside the cottage, she found the Ware sisters seated at their small table, their heads together as they read the mysterious letter. Iona looked up and gestured for her niece to join them. "My dear, we have what we think is good news."
Leaving her box and spell book on a wooden settle beside the door, Naomi came and sat down. She mentally noted that there had been no preparation for their evening tea, and she was surprisingly sharp set. Their news must be of some import.
Bebe smiled. "Your studies are very important, Naomi,, but when opportunities arrive we must take advantage of them."
"Opportunities?" Naomi looked from one lady to the other. Then her gaze dropped to the missive which lay on the table.
Iona tapped the letter. "Lady Newlyn has invited you to London. She wants you to be companion to her granddaughter. Do you remember the girl?"
"Of course I remember Marion. She was a very dear friend before her mother died and she was sent away to school. But surely you cannot want me to go away just as I'm beginning to practice my sorcery."
Bebe and Iona exchanged a look. Iona reached across the table and took her niece's hand. "In a perfect world, no, we wouldn't wish you to leave at this crucial time, but we must
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  25
face the facts. The Wares are pockets to let. I do not worry about my sister and me, for we manage on what our skills earn, but, my dear, I fear that you must marry—as did your mother."
Naomi's heart plummeted. "Are you saying I must go to London and, to put it vulgarly, marry a rich man?"
Bebe tittered. "Of course not, child. Any man with a modest income can support you."
Iona nudged her sister in warning, then tried to explain dieir meaning. "My dear, your magic can provide you with a great many things, but you must be careful. People are most curious about a single woman and how she survives without a husband or father. In your case, many will know that your father was a mere vicar. A husband, any husband, can protect you from the imaginations of the ignorant."
"So, I am to go to London and cast a love spell—"
"No!" the aunts shouted in unison.
Bebe shook her finger at Naomi. "No love spells. They are too dangerous even for experienced witches. In fact, I think it best you put your magic aside while in Town." She took her niece's hand. "We are not asking you to marry just kq one. We only want you to have the opportunity to fall in love and marry, which you certainly won't have here at Hawthorn Cottage."
"And, my dear"—Iona winked—"in London mere are r. er so many handsome wizards." The lady sat back and became dreamy eyed. "Why, that would only make matters perfect if you fell in love with a young man who practiced ±>e arts as well."
"A wizard?" Naomi's face grew wary. "I must marry a wizard?"
Iona bit her lip. "Marrying outside the craft only produces problems, child. Your father never accepted his wife's abilities for what they were. He saw evil where there was none. I think it broke your mother's heart. Most mortal men cannot accept having a witch for a wife. That is why a wizard is best."
26                            Lynn Collum
"Very well, I accept I must marry a wizard, Aunt Iona. But how would I meet such a man? Do they attend parties and the plays?"
Bebe grinned. "Of course they do, child. Did you think they all had long white beards and odd hats? They blend in with ordinary mortals, just as you must."
Naomi's brow rose. "And how am I to know them? Is there some secret handshake, a magic phrase they recite to everyone they meet, or do sparks fly from their feet as they walk?"
Iona looked at Bebe. "That does present a problem, sister, for she cannot go to the usual places sorcerers meet, not with Miss Marion in tow—and, after all, that is why Lady Newlyn invited her to Town."
Bebe curled one auburn tress round her finger as she pondered the problem. Most witches and wizards instinctively recognized one another on sight by a certain aura, but Naomi was quite inexperienced and might not understand how to home in on her senses just yet. Besides, there could be little doubt she would be tempted to use her newly found powers, and the child had not fully mastered all there was to know. What she needed was a guardian, but one did not send a companion for the companion.
Suddenly Bebe's eyes brightened. "I know what we must do. She needs a Familiar, someone who can alert others in the craft and keep her safe from harm." The Ware sisters turned to Suma, who had curled up in one of the chairs near the hearth.
The black cat's gold-hued eyes opened wide. "Don't look at me. You know I detest London. It's a dangerous place for felines and not a decent climbing tree to be found."
"But, Suma—" Bebe started.
"Don't but Suma me." The cat rose and jumped to the floor. "I am content with my humans. If she needs someone to look out for her, send for Audric. I should think he would like nothing better than to be in the thick of things."   With
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  27
that, the cat stalked from the room, as if offended that they would have considered him for the task.
"Audric." Iona's face lit. "Why, we should have thought of him first. Who better to steer our Naomi to the right husband?"
Bebe shook her head. "Sister, we cannot send the child to London with such a scoundrel."
Iona laughed. "He is quite harmless in his present form. Besides, he always had a fondness for our Kendra. He would be honored to be charged with the responsibility of her daughter."
"Who is Audric?" Naomi asked, suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger involving himself in her life.
But the aunts had already risen and gone to the fireplace. Within minutes they had a fire roaring, and they joined hands. The pair chanted, "From the far corners of the world, through all the war and strife, bring Audric to Naomi to protect her future life."
Naomi looked about and nothing seemed to happen in the room. Then a knock sounded on the front door. The aunts grinned and gestured for her to go welcome their visitor. She moved toward the door and hesitated a moment, fearful of what was behind the portal. At last she reached out a trembling hand and opened the door.
To her utter amazement, there stood a dog the size of a small pony. He was white, with small black spots, and his head was large with ears that pointed upward. She had never seen such a creature. Intimidated by the animal, she stepped back, right into her aunts, who had followed her.
"Audric?" Bebe questioned.
"You were expecting Cerberus who guards Hades?" His voice was deep and husky. "Of course, 'tis I."
"You look quite different since the last time you visited," Iona said, as her gaze roved over the monstrous dog.
"Do you like it? I got quite tired of the little hairy and black incarnation and decided to try something new. Browsed
28                            Lynn Collum
through time for something more interesting, and now I'm a Great Dane."
The three ladies stood and stared for a moment. Bebe at last remarked, "I never knew a Dane, but you are rather great."
Naomi whispered into Iona's ear. "I cannot take such a creature to London. Everyone would run from me in fright."
"London?" Audric's ears perked up. "You want me to go to Town? Ah, to once again be among the beautiful ladies, the plays, the French chefs." He licked his chops.
Bebe shook her head. "Naomi's right. This Great Dane breed simply will not do, Audric."
"Oh, very well." There was a puff of smoke, and where the Great Dane had stood was a small black Aberdeen terrier. "Is this better?" It was clear by his tone that he didn't wish to be a lap dog, for his voice remained just as deep and resonant. Ironically, his long muzzle was bearded, and he possessed tufts of fur over each eye which quite gave him the look of a wise old man in canine form.
"Much better! Do come in and meet your cousin."
Naomi's eyes widened as the little dog trotted into the cottage and jumped up on a chair. "H-he is a relation? How is it he's, well, not in human form?"
Bebe closed the door. "It's a long story."
Audric looked at Naomi. "Not so long. The moral of my tale is never dally with the daughter of a netherworld wizard unless you are content to spent the next hundred years as someone's faithful companion. Now, about this trip to Town." He looked from one lady to another.
Iona quickly explained their dilemma with Naomi and what they required.
"I'm your man." Audric guffawed loudly. "You know what I mean. I shall sniff out all the best wizards who are presently in London and watch over Naomi until she is safely wed. Is this baron a gourmand?"
Iona frowned. "This is no time to be thinking of your stomach."
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  29
Audric sighed. "Food has become my one pleasure in this form, cousin."
"Naomi will see you are properly fed." Bebe smiled at her niece.
"Promise?" Audric raised one black tuft above his dark eyes.
"I promise." Naomi eyed her new cousin with awe.
That settled, it was soon agreedthat Naomi and Audric would leave for London as soon as Lady Newlyn sent a carriage. Bebe and lona then hurried to the kitchen to prepare the long delayed tea. But Bebe's worries were not completely allayed. "Are you certain we can trust Audric?"
lona set the plates upon the tray. "Good heavens, my dear. What is it you think he will do? After all, the women of Town are safe from his charms in his present form."
Bebe shook her head. "I cannot think that a man who has lived his life ruled by his baser instincts is the best person to watch over Naomi and guide her through the pitfalls of Society."
"Good heavens, sister, there is none better. A libertine would recognize the same qualities in others far quicker than you or I. He will watch out for her and find her a handsome wizard to marry."
"And if she falls in love with a mortal?"
"I am certain Audric will nip such foolishness in the bud. We needn't worry."
Chapter 2
Audric jumped up and put his feet on the windowsill of the carriage as the vehicle moved slowly through the crush of traffic in Mayfair. The time was half past three, but the normal flow of carriages was slowed by the sheer volume of travelers coming to Town for the opening of Parliament "Do you think this baron fellow will have a garden with his town house?"
"I cannot say. I have never been to Town before." Naomi's nose was nearly pressed to the glass as she took in the sights of London—the fashionable women strolling with gentlemen, the shops, and the cart vendors. She had not fully embraced this journey in the beginning. The idea of coming in search of a husband did not suit her, but then she remembered that most females of good birth did much the same. Once her aunts had conjured her a new wardrobe and she'd set out, excitement became her constant companion, for there was so much new to see.
As to the wardrobe, there was nothing too fashionable in the array of gowns in the trunk. After all, how would she explain to Lady Newlyn arriving in the latest gowns when her father had been a penniless vicar? Yet for a girl who'd been
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  31
restricted to somber colors and three gowns, the simple yet fashionable gowns of yellow silks, pink satins, and blue muslins were a delight. Until they reached London, she had given little thought to the task she was to perform—escorting Marion. Had her old friend changed much since her time at school? She had been rather shy and retiring, with little conversation for strangers. That might prove a difficulty during the Season, when one was expected to charm the eligible gentlemen.
The carriage drew to a halt in front of Newlyn House. A footman in green and gold livery hurried out and opened the carriage door. His eyes widened at the sight of the small black dog who bounded down the carriage stairs and dashed straight into the foyer.
Naomi stepped down. "Come back here, Audric." She gave the footman a sheepish smile. "The trip was rather long." She hurried after the dog and found herself in a well-appointed hall with white marble floors, black lacquered tables, and old family portraits. Audric sat beside a large potted plant, staring at her with unnerving intensity.
The lone footman closed the door, then took her bonnet and cape. "Welcome to Newlyn House, Miss Clayton. The ladies are resting at present, but I shall go and see if Miss Marion is awake."
The servant had scarcely disappeared up the curved set of stairs before Audric said, "We must find me a garden, Naomi, or I shall climb into that potted palm to do my business."
Perplexed a moment, Naomi's eyes widened when she took his meaning. She looked about at the closed doors and hesitated. "The footman should be back any minute. Can you not wait?"
"Now, child, or have the decency to turn your back." The terrier danced about in circles.
Clearly the matter was most urgent. But which door led outside? she wondered. She had seen no garden on either side of the town house, which was a part of a row, so she de-
32                            Lynn Collum
cided to try one of the doors at the back of the hall. The door she chose opened into what looked like a conservatory, but she had never seen a room quite so full of plants. The dog raced past her toward the end of the room, where a garden was visible through the glass.
"Wait, I must open ..." but her voice trailed off as a gentleman stood and stared at her from among the plants.
"May I help you, madam?" His tone was cool.
It took a moment for her to recognize Marion's bromer, it having been some eight years or more since they had encountered each other. Gone was the willowy frame of a young man recently finished with Oxford, replaced by the firm, broad physique of a man fully grown. His face, now leaned to sharp, angular planes, would never be called handsome, with its deep-set green eyes and rather thin lips, but there was something about him so very masculine that her stomach behaved in a rather strange manner. Then she remembered her manners.
"I do apologize for intruding, Lord Newlyn. I am Naomi Clayton, Marion's friend, newly arrived from Wiltshire."
"The vicar's daughter?" His gaze swept her up and down, while disbelief etched his face.
Naomi suddenly worried that her aunts had gone too far by putting her hair up in fashionable curls and dressing her in the elegant blue gown. She resisted the urge to tug at the bodice, which was lower than she'd ever worn. "The very one, sir."
The flicker of surprise in his eyes disappeared. Then he bowed and politely smiled. It was an amazing moment, for his face was transformed. His countenance, which had seemed quite plain to her at first sight, now appeared utterly fascinating. Was it possible to be bewitched by an agreeable smile?
"Forgive me, Miss Clayton. I fear I didn't recognize you, but then it has been years, has it not?" He moved to shake her hand. "Welcome to Newlyn House. I hope your journey
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  33
was uneventful. Marion has been eagerly awaiting your arrival."
"I am looking forward to seeing her, sir." Naomi felt strangely shy. She searched for something to say and her gaze fell on the plants surrounding them. "This is a remarkable room." She reached out and touched the magenta-colored flower of a nearby plant. "Is this apocynaneae? I didn't think it grew in England."
His eyes widened. "Do you know plants?"
Naomi realized she must be careful. A woman rarely exhibited much knowledge about anything but the feminine arts. She mustn't draw too much attention to her magical arts, which involved the study of plants and herbs. "Oh, my aunts use herbs for healing, and I have taken an interest in such things."
Just then Audric barked to remind her he was waiting. Naomi edged past the gentleman. "Is there a door to the garden? My dog needs his walk."
"This way." The gentleman led her to the end of the room and opened the door, where Audric waited with fevered impatience. When the door was open, the dog disappeared into the rear of a beautiful little garden.
"Has my sister been informed of your arrival, Miss Clayton?" his lordship asked as he frowned after the dog.
Uncertain what had displeased him, she decided it was her presumption in having brought the animal with her without permission. "I believe the footman went to see if she'd risen from her afternoon rest. Sir, about my dog. I hope you have no objection that he is with me. He is well mannered, and I own a great affection for him."
" 'Tis the ladies I worry about, Miss Clayton. Not everyone has a love of animals. I do not think we have ever had a pet in the house. I assume he is housebroken?"
"Of course."
Audric trotted back up the flagstone path, drawing both their attention. On arriving back at the door, the terrier sat
34Lynn Collum
down to stare back at the pair with eyes that glittered with intensity and made Naomi nervous. Then she reminded herself that to the rest of the world he was a mere dog.
Still, the gentleman stared at Audric, a thoughtful expression on his face. At last he smiled at the lady, which made her sigh with appreciation. Such a smile could certainly melt one's resolve. "Miss Clayton, I am also concerned for the animal's safety. I have many plants in here that are lethal if eaten, and I know canines are rather indiscriminate about what they consume."
A strange sound somewhere between a gurgle and a growl sounded from the terrier. Naomi hurried to cover the dog's vocal display. "Oh, I do assure you that Audric would never do anything so foolish, sir. He is quite the smartest dog I have ever seen."
"Still, I think it best that he not come into the conservatory unaccompanied. I shall speak to Cook and see if she can provide him with an adequate supply of bones to keep him amused. Or perhaps you could set him to catching rats in the mews to keep him occupied."
Audric's head swivelled to look at Naomi. She wasn't certain a dog could show indignation, but every hair on the terrier seemed to shake with outrage. He barked once and positively skulked back into the conservatory, going all the way to the opposite door, where he sat with his back to the baron.
Lord Newlyn chuckled. "One would almost swear he understood what we were saying."
Naomi managed a forced laugh. "Just one of Audric's odd fits and starts. I do promise he won't be a bother, sir. I must go back and see if the footman has returned."
The gentleman bowed. "I shall see you at dinner, Miss Clayton."
She curtsied, then hurried back to where Audric awaited her. She opened the door that led to the rear hall. The door had scarcely closed to the conservatory when Naomi's companion vented his spleen.
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  35
"Do I look like a cursed cat? Chase rats, indeed!"
"He was only concerned for your well-being, Audric. A real dog might accidently eat a fallen leaf in there and be hideously ill."
"As if I would eat flowers and leaves when there is"—the dog sniffed the air—"roast capon for supper. And there is the matter of those bones, Naomi. The baron has another think coming if he intends to starve me with a bunch of bones with all the meat gone."
"I promise I shall see that you are properly fed. You must remember, most dogs would be delighted with such a treat, and..." Naomi's voice petered out when she looked up to see the footman standing at the end of the stairs, staring at her with an odd expression.
At last he spoke. "Forgive me for leaving you standing about in the hallway, miss, but the upstairs maid, Abby, is under the weather and the butler and housekeeper are seeing to her."
Naomi came to where he stood. "Is she very ill?"
"Appears to have eaten somethin' what don't agree with her, is all."
Naomi knew a little spell that would have made the girl right as rain, but her aunts didn't wish her to practice her arts in town, so she offered a home remedy. "Perhaps I can help. Have Cook simmer a peach with half a cup of water and castor sugar. When the water thickens to a syrup, allow it to cool and have Abby eat only the syrup. It will make her feel better."
The footman nodded. "I'll tell Cook, miss." He gestured toward the stairs. "Miss Long and her ladyship are in the drawing room upstairs, miss."
Naomi hoped she had distracted him from what he had seen, but she could tell he didn't know what to make of her. She decided to play it off. "Come, Audric, Marion awaits."
The pair followed the footman to a drawing room upstairs where Marion and her grandmother, Lady Newlyn, awaited. Naomi had just a moment to whisper to Audric to be on his best behavior unless he wished to be residing in the cellars.
36Lynn Collum
The dowager greeted her first, Marion shyly hanging back as if the years apart had somehow changed the relationship. "Why, my dear Miss Clayton, you are looking wonderful, is she not, Marion?"
"Q-quite," the girl replied, then her gaze dropped to the floor.
Naomi's heart sank. If it was possible, her old friend had grown even more bashful. She was fashionably dressed in a pale pink muslin afternoon gown, but her straight brown hair was resisting the elaborate curls, sticking out in several directions, which reminded one of a hedgehog. Not an image likely to make men fall at the young lady's feet.
"W-welcome to London, Naomi." Marion blushed, but managed a timorous smile.
If the girl were this way with an old friend, how would she be among a roomful of strangers? But that was something Naomi decided to worry about later. For the present, she would concentrate on regaining Marion's confidence. Then they would deal with improving her looks and manner before launching her into Society. After all, if worse came to worse, a little magic just might be called for despite her aunts' prohibition. Surely they would understand.

The door to the conservatory opened at six that same afternoon, and Peterson stepped into the room, carrying a tray with a wine decanter and a glass as well as several sandwiches and almond biscuits.
Lord Newlyn glanced up at the tinkle of rattling glass, then peered at the timepiece on his small desk. He sighed with frustration. His paper for the Lirmean Society must be done by the end of the week, and he'd scarcely written two paragraphs all afternoon. For some reason, he'd had difficulty concentrating. His thoughts kept going to the young lady who'd disturbed his peace earlier. What had happened to the Miss Clayton he remembered from Yorkshire? She had been the perfect companion for a shy miss making her
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  37
come-out. Marion would be completely missed in the swarm of swains who would come to pay tribute to the vicar's lovely daughter.
The butler arrived at the baron's side and slid the tray on the desk. "Her ladyship sent you tea since you failed to join them, sir."
"Send my apologies to my grandmother, and thank you, Peterson. How is Abby feeling?"-
"Much better, my lord. Miss Clayton suggested a country remedy which seems to have done the trick."
Wyn was glad to hear that the young lady was still so practical, yet somehow he had a difficult time reconciling the beauty he'd met that afternoon with his memories of her in Yorkshire.
The white-haired servant poured out a full measure of wine, then bowed and left. The baron lay down his pen and took a sip of wine. He quickly ate the sandwiches, surprised at how hungry he was, and was about to finish his wine when movement caught his eye. He looked down to see Miss Clayton's hairy little dog seated at the foot of the desk, his dark eyes locked on the gentleman.
"How did you get in here?" Wyn rose and continued speaking to the dog as if he were a human. "I knew the moment I set eyes on you you were going to be nothing but trouble. I suppose you are wanting to go into the garden again."
The gentleman put down the glass and moved to the rear door, but the dog remained in the center of the room beside the desk. Opening the door, the baron whistled, but the animal's only response was to twitch one ear. The canine remained seated, his gaze fixed on the desk. Wyn suddenly wished he hadn't eaten all the sandwiches, for he could have used one to entice the animal to the door.
Before the baron could lure the dog outside, Peterson reappeared at the hallway door. "My lord, the gentleman from the potter's has arrived with the new pots you ordered. Where shall I have him put them?"
38                            Lynn Collum
At once Lord Newlyn's attention was diverted to his first love, his plants. He left the door open for the pooch—after all, the garden was fenced—and Miss Clayton had assured him the animal wouldn't eat the plants, so he hurried toward the butler. "I should like to inspect them before they are unloaded."
His lordship went out to the potter's fourgon, pronounced his approval of the workmanship, and had the men carry the oversized pots into the conservatory. It wasn't until the workmen were gone and he was once again seated at his desk that he realized the little dog had disappeared. He went to the garden, but the animal was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he'd departed through the open door when the men were bringing in the pots. He went in search of Peterson, who he instructed to find the cursed animal and make certain he hadn't escaped.
At last Wyn sat down in the conservatory and reached for his glass of wine, only to discover it empty. Had he drunk it all so quickly? How odd. He would have sworn he took only a sip. He shrugged and went back to his paper.
A sharp knock sounded on the door and before the baron could respond, the portal opened. Without leave, Miss Rags-dale and her mother swept into the conservatory. The elder woman was a large female, much improved by her black widow's attire, but as for Miss Ragsdale, her white gown with black ribbons left her blond comeliness looking rather colorless—or was he merely comparing her looks with the healthy blush on Miss Clayton's cheeks? That would never do.
Wyn rose and grabbed his jacket, knowing how much Amaryllis disliked any lack of formality. "Ladies, did we have an appointment that slipped my mind?"
Mrs. Ragsdale tittered girlishly. "As if you would be so careless, my lord."
Amaryllis Ragsdale frowned at her mother, then asserted her role as the dominating one of the pair. "I assured Mother you wouldn't mind our presuming to stop by, since we are such old friends. 'Twas only that I remembered that Lady
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  39
Newlyn reminded us on our last visit that your friend, Miss Clayton, was to arrive today. I know how it is to be a stranger in town, so we decided to come and welcome her to London."
The announcement surprised Wyn, for Amaryllis had been quite adamant that she could fill the role mat Miss Clayton was intended to play. Both she and her mother insisted there was no need to bring the lady from the country. Only after he assured her that his grandmother intended the visit as much for Miss Clayton to have a Season as Marion did the ladies end their protests. "How kind of you, Miss Ragsdale. I believe the ladies are still in the Green Salon."
He offered Mrs. Ragsdale his arm and led the ladies upstairs. He opened the door to the salon and froze in his tracks. To his and his companions' amazement, the tunes of a pianoforte could be heard as two young ladies twirled about the room doing the waltz.
On seeing the visitors, the dancers stopped and fell into giggles. Wyn had never seen Marion, her hair loose to her shoulders, cheeks flushed, looking quite so daring yet at the same time lovely. Beside her, eyes twinkling, Miss Clayton looked as if she were enjoying herself immensely.
With Marion quite speechless, Naomi said, "Oh, Lord Newlyn, I hope you don't mind, but we were practicing for our first ball."
Lady Newlyn, at the piano, ceased her playing and gazed at the visitors with a jaundiced eye, then looked at the clock. "Well, I certainly didn't expect callers so late in the day."
Miss Ragsdale was not the least dampened by her ladyship's comment. She eyed Miss Clayton with a superior air. "I do hope you are not encouraging Miss Marion to be waltzing before she has been approved by the patroness of Almack's. There would be nothing which could ruin her faster, I do assure you."
Marion and Lady Newlyn's faces grew stormy, but Miss Clayton merely smiled. "Why, you are quite mistaken, madam. Dear Marion was teaching me to waltz, for I have never seen the dance. It is quite delightful, is it not?"
40Lynn Collum
Miss Ragsdale sniffed, "I would not know, for I have never danced in such a... reckless manner." It was clear by her pause that she intended to say scandalous manner but thought better of it.
Since the ladies were getting off on a wrong foot, the baron stepped in and said, "Miss Clayton, allow me to present Mrs. Lettice Ragsdale, widow of the noted botanist Amos Ragsdale, and their daughter, Miss Amaryllis."
The young lady smiled and said all that was polite, but Mrs. Ragsdale, being no fool, realized her daughter had allowed her tongue to get the better of her. "Lady Newlyn, we do not wish to intrude. We only wanted to stop a moment to make Miss Clayton's acquaintance."
Coolly, the dowager nodded. "Most kind of you, madam." Her ladyship made no offer to the ladies to sit down, since she considered the Ragsdales pushing creatures who would be encouraged by such polite treatment.
The widow slid her arm through her daughter's and began to tug her backward. "We will leave you to your rehearsing and hope that you might bring Miss Clayton to tea later in the week."
Lady Newlyn gave not an inch. "We shall have to see if we can find the time. Dear Naomi has only just arrived, and there is much to do to get her ready. As you know, the girls are making their bow to Society at Lady Huntford's ball."
Ignoring her ladyship, Amaryllis turned to Lord Newlyn. "Surely you will not waste your time with such foolishness. I believe you are to present a paper to the Linnean Society at this week's meeting."
Wyn stiffened at her censuring tone. He said coolly, "I know my responsibilities to the society, Miss Ragsdale."
It was evident to all that the young lady had overstepped her bounds with the baron. Not a fool, Amaryllis laid a hand upon his sleeve. "Oh, I did not mean to presume to tell you how to manage your affairs. Only I met Mr. Camden this week on Oxford Street, and he mentioned how much they are all looking forward to your paper."
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  41
Lady Newlyn made a snorting sound which caused Wyn to glare at her, but his grandmother innocently dabbed at her nose with a lace handkerchief as if she were taking a cold. He wasn't certain Miss Ragsdale had meant to sound so proprietary, and when he looked back her she smiled at him so sweetly he quite absolved her of such brazen conduct. She had only been concerned for his reputation, no doubt.
Yet something niggled at the back of his mind, telling him he really didn't know the lady that well for all the time she'd been in his presence. Still, he returned her smile. "While I might accompany my sister on random occasions as needed, I have no intention of attending Lady Huntford's affair."
To Wyn's surprise, Miss Clayton spoke to Amaryllis. "Do you have an interest in botany as well, Miss Ragsdale?"
Amaryllis's eyes narrowed as they rested on the vicar's daughter. "I am no bluestocking." She smiled up at the baron. " 'Tis my belief that I should leave such matters to gentlemen, who are better suited to such mental depths."
"Well said," Lady Newlyn pronounced from the piano. "A lady should know her own limitations, I always say."
The young lady's cheeks flamed red, but before she could respond, her mother tugged her from the room. "We must be on our way, dear Amy."
Wyn shot his grandmother a quelling look before he offered to escort the ladies out. As the door closed behind them, the dowager harrumphed. "Meddlesome jade."
Marion moved to the pianoforte. "Grandmama, you mustn't be discourteous to Miss Ragsdale. Wyn seems determined to have her."
"I won't have her mistake my feeling, child. I'm determine not to have such a cold, unfeeling woman be the mother of my great grandchildren."
Naomi's brows rose. "They are betrothed?"
"Not as yet, and not if I have anything to say about the matter." Lady Newlyn rose. "Come, no more about the annoying lady. You, dear Naomi, need to rest a bit before we dress for dinner. Marion and I shall make plans for tomor-
42                            Lynn Collum
row while you take a nap and write your aunts to assure them you have arrived safely."
Marion showed Naomi to her room. Before she departed, she squeezed her old friend's hand. "I am so glad you have come. I—I know Grandmama has plans for a great marriage, but I am not one of those who mingle well in Society."
Naomi kissed her cheek. "Don't you worry about that. Who knows but what you might end being the darling of Society?"
"Darling, indeed." The shy young woman laughed. "I shall be content to not be a laughingstock or struck utterly speechless at the wrong moment."
"That won't happen." Seeing doubt in the girl's eyes, Naomi added, "Besides, if you can think of nothing else, there is always that perennial favorite of the weather."
Marion laughed and nodded, informed her friend when supper would be served, then departed. Naomi closed the door and prayed she was right. In fact, even if she had to defy her aunts' ban on magic, she would make certain her friend didn't become a social disaster.
Suddenly a scratching sounded on the door. She opened it to find Audric there. "Where have you been?"
"Inspecting the lay of the land." The dog trotted into the room, then bounded up into a blue damask chair near the fireplace.
Naomi's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"
"You needn't look like I was chewing on the baron's slippers or such. I was down in the kitchens being all cute and cuddly, introducing myself to Cook and the maids. Not a pretty face in the lot, but they were very generous with the tidbits." He licked his chops, then grinned.
"And what if some handsome wizard had stopped by and you were nowhere to be found? I would have missed my chance, not realizing him a sorcerer." She put her hands on her hips while she chastised him.
"A wizard? Here with your stuffy botanist?" Audric guffawed. " 'Tis more like to snow in July, my dear. Besides, I
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  43
saw the way you look at his lordship." With that he lay down his head and closed his eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous, Audric. His lordship is no wizard, and that is what I need. Besides, he is about to declare himself to Miss Ragsdale."
Without opening his eyes, the dog murmured, "That's as may be, my dear, but a wise man once told me the heart wants what the heart wants."
Naomi shook her head. She was beginning to wonder if bringing Audric had been the best decision. He seemed more likely to bring trouble than a suitable gentleman for her. She lay upon the bed to rest as Audric's assessment of Lord Newlyn swirled in her head. A stuffy botanist. A memory of the gentleman's smile came to her and she realized that stuffy didn't come to mind when she thought of him. She could certainly see what Miss Ragsdale saw in him. The question would be what he saw in her. She was passably pretty with her pale blond looks, but she seemed rather priggish and definitely humorless. But it was none of Naomi's affair. While he was an attractive man, he certainly wasn't what her aunts had had in mind when they sent her to London. She was here to help Marion, which she intended to do. If she found herself a wizard, all the better. No other choice made sense for a witch.

Over the course of the next few days, Naomi had little time to worry about the approaching ball or her attraction to the young baron. She met a grateful Abby, who arrived at nine sharp the following morning to inform her that her ladyship and Miss Marion desired her company in the breakfast parlor in thirty minutes.
The three women were soon on the go from morn till night. Lady Newlyn was determined that there would be nothing lacking in her granddaughter's first appearance in Society. In between shopping trips, the girls managed to slip away for a visit to the Egyptian exhibit at the British Museum,
44Lynn Collum
and to Hatchard's for the latest books. The highlight for Naomi was an afternoon spent with Lord Newlyn, who took the time from writing his paper to give them a tour of the conservatory and explain the new varieties of plants he was studying.
Naomi was surprised that he managed to explain his work without it being boring. Miss Ragsdale was a very lucky young woman. Naomi could only hope that she would be so lucky in finding her true love.
At last the evening of the Huntford ball arrived. Naomi, dressed in pale pink silk with a pink sarcenet overskirt shot with silver, hurried down to the drawing room, not wishing to be late. Audric trailed behind averse to being locked upstairs for the night. She arrived to find the Green Salon empty. Surprised to realize that her nerves were jangling a bit even though it was Marion's evening, Naomi went to the piano and began to play a soft sonata which had always calmed her father. After circling the room once, her canine cousin jumped up on a nearby chair of green and white striped sateen.
"Get down, Audric. You leave black hair on everything."
He snorted, but complied. "Next you will be accusing me of stooping so low as to have fleas."
She heard the door opened and looked up to see Lord Newlyn standing in the doorway. She rose.
"Don't stop on my account, Miss Clayton. I was greatly enjoying the music."
He smiled that transforming smile and Naomi's stomach played tricks on her. "I was just passing the time until Lady Newlyn and Marion come down."
His gaze swept her and he said, "Then I shall keep you company until the ladies arrive." He went to the drinks table, offering her a glass of claret, which she declined before she sat down and continued playing. After pouring himself a portion, from which he took a sip before he set it on the table, he came and stood beside the piano. "May I say you are looking lovely this evening, Miss Clayton?"
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  45
Naomi blushed. "Thank you, sir. I quite feel like a fairy princess."
He arched one brow. "Don't tell me you are one of those who believe in fairies, elves, unicorns, and all that nonsense."
She had learned there was a great deal she didn't know about the world in the last year. "I believe there are many things which remain hidden from us. Even people often are not what they seem." A pang of guilt raced through her for her own deception of the Longs.
A frown appeared on the gentleman's face. "You sound like my grandmother. Has she convinced you as well of the inappropriateness of Miss Ragsdale as my future wife?"
"Miss Ragsdale?" Naomi asked, taken aback that he thought she was so presumptuous. "Why, no. I would never think to discourage a gentleman from marrying his true love."
"True love? Why, you are quite as fanciful as Marion. Marriage should be embarked upon on far sturdier ground than such a tenuous emotion, Miss Clayton."
A half smile played about her mouth as her gaze went to Audric. "I believe a wise man once said the heart wants what the heart wants, sir."
Before his lordship could retort, Lady Newlyn and Marion arrived. Naomi had convinced Marion to have her hair trimmed short, and a vinegar and water rinse had brought out golden highlights in her plain brown locks. Her maid had threaded a green ribbon through the curls and she looked quite different. A pale green silk gown embroidered with tiny yellow flowers on the sleeves and hem displayed her girlish figure to perfection.
Lord Newlyn hurried forward and took his sister's hands. "Why, Marion, you have blossomed into a beauty. You shall quite steal Miss Huntford's thunder at her own ball and become the belle of the night."
Marion shook her head and nibbled at her lip before she said, "B-but I still have two left feet when it comes to dancing and no witty conversation and I should be far happier
46                            Lynn Collum
here with a book than at this ball." It was evident to all that the young lady was terrified of her first ball.
Naomi came and stood beside her, slipping an arm through her friend's. "I am equally quaking, my dear, but my aunts always assured me that our nerves will quite disappear when we see that all the young ladies are nervous."
"Do you think that is true?" Marion clutched at her friend's hand.
"Of course it's true. Is it not so, Lady Newlyn?"
"You shall be fine, child. Now come along, or we shall be late."
Confident his sister would find her courage, the baron escorted the ladies out to the waiting carriage and he wished them a pleasant evening as he closed the door. He returned to finish his wine, only to find the glass empty. He looked down at the dog, then back at the glass, and shook his head, thinking it was impossible. He would be glad when he'd completed his paper, for he was overly distracted. On that thought he departed, but just before the door closed he would have sworn he heard that dog hiccup.
In the carriage, the ladies were full of high expectations for the ball. Unfortunately, as they stood in the receiving line at the head of the stairs, Marion's eyes grew wide with terror as she surveyed the crush below. Naomi did her best to calm her friend, but instead the girl grew progressively more withdrawn with each new gentleman presented to her. She stuttered or spoke not at all, she stumbled through her dances, and at last managed to slip away through the tall door that opened onto the terrace, where Naomi found her some minutes later.
"I—I cannot do this," she cried in her friend's arms. "I— I don't know a single p-person and e-everyone seems to be staring at me and I—I can think of nothing to say to the gentlemen. I—I want to go home."
Naomi tried to reassure her friend, but nothing would convince the girl that she was not making a spectacle of herself. At last they returned indoors, found her ladyship, and
THE BEWITCHED BARON47
made their good-byes to the hostess and departed just after midnight.
In the carriage, Lady Newlyn sighed at the sight of her sadly distressed granddaughter. "I blame your father for your fears, child. You must realize that all gentleman are not such roaring beasts without patience. Did you not meet a single gentleman tonight who pleased you?"
Marion shook her head. "They were different from my friends back home. These gentlemen were all..." She seemed not to find the words she wanted.
Naomi offered, "They were all rather tiresome, in my opinion, with their talk of horses and fashion and gossip."
"Good heavens, girls. What else is there to speak of at a ball?"
Naomi looked out at the passing buildings. "I suppose Marion has been rather spoiled by Lord Newlyn's conversations. No doubt she expects more from a gentleman than a discussion of fisticuffs and fetlocks."
Her ladyship fell silent. But as the coach drew to a stop in front of the town house, she said, "I think we started too large, going to such a crush as Lady Huntford's. Perhaps a small musical evening would be more the thing for a shy young girl."
Naomi voiced her approval, but noted that Marion looked no happier than she had at the ball. It was clear that firing the girl off was going to be quite the task, but Naomi knew that eventually they would succeed, even if she had to resort to more interesting methods.
So two days later, they set out for Lady Willingham's mu-sicale—but that proved an equal disaster. The hostess insisted that Marion, along with the other young ladies, each take their turn performing a song on the pianoforte. Thinking her friend might faint from fear, Naomi tried to beg off for the frightened girl, but Lady Willingham was determined. Marion managed to get through one verse of The Prickety Bush in a wavering voice before Naomi took pity on her and made a small vase at the rear of the room fly off the shelf to break on
48Lynn Collum
the floor. She knew her aunts wouldn't object to that little bit of magic—and, besides, every one had been looking at Marion.
Back at home that night as she lay in bed, Naomi realized she had to do something to help her friend. She knew her aunts had strictly forbidden her to do a love spell, but what if she were to give her friend a bit of courage? She sat up, blew on her candle, and a flame sprang to life. Then she pulled out her spell book and thumbed through the spells. At last she found what she wanted, but she didn't have the ingredients. Then she remembered that her aunts wanted her to go to an herbalist in the Seven Dials rookery to procure some of the rarer things they needed—eye of newt, goblin hair, and other oddities not sold at the local alchemist. She would go early before the ladies rose, perform the spell, and be at breakfast by ten. But where could she put the pot in which she intended to grow the seed of courage? Then she thought of the little maid who was so eager to thank her. Abby would know where she would be likely to be undisturbed while she performed the spell and where the seed could germinate without anyone interfering with the magic. With a plan set upon, Naomi blew out the candle and went to sleep.
Chapter 3
"Wake up, my lord." Peterson's urgent tone penetrated Wyndom's sleep-fogged brain. "It's urgent, sir."
The baron opened one eye. "What has she done that requires you disturb my slumber, man?" The gentleman was certain it had to be the lively Miss Clayton, for his servant had never before awakened him at this hour, knowing that he often worked late in his conservatory.
"She's set off for Seven Dials despite my direst warnings, my lord."
The gentleman bolted upright in bed. "Seven Dials! Great scot, man, what were you thinking to let an innocent girl go to one of the most dangerous rookeries in London?"
The old servant straightened, a wounded look on his lined face. "Truth be told, I'd already summoned a hackney cab before I fully understood what she intended. No matter my pleading, she was determined to go and swore that little dog was all the protection she needed."
Wyn tossed back the covers. "What time is it? Pray tell me you did not inform my grandmother of the girl's foolish trip. Where are my clothes? Have Thunder saddled and at the front door. I must go after the chit at once."
50                            Lynn Collum
" 'Tis just after seven, my lord, and I came to you straight away." The butler handed the gentleman his shirt and breeches, then departed to summon his lordship's animal. Wyn knew he would have to apologize to Peterson after Miss Clayton was safely back in the town house.
While the baron was hurriedly dressing in Mayfair, across town Naomi peered out of the cab as the quality of the buildings and the pedestrians who moved about in front of them became progressively shabbier. Peterson had warned her, as had the hackney driver, but she had no choice, since her aunts needed the supplies.
"Audric, are you certain there was no other place I could have purchased what I need for this spell?"
"Grimmett's is where all magic folk come for their needs. Do you forget that you have great power to protect yourself, my dear? Nothing will go wrong, and we are likely to meet others who practice sorcery, which is what your aunts want."
The cab rumbled further into the depths of the London slums. At last it drew to a halt in front of an ancient shop whose windows were so grimy that one couldn't see inside. Flaking black letters on the door pronounced the shop to be for Herbs and Potions. Several sinister looking fellows stood near the corner and watched the cab with interest, but none made an attempt to approach Naomi as she climbed down along with her canine companion. She turned to the hackney driver. "Wait here. I shall be only a moment."
He looked about, but didn't say anything. Instead, he climbed back on his perch and watched the few fellows who were milling about on the street.
Naomi crossed the sidewalk and entered Grimmett's. A bell jingled above the door to announce her entry. "Good morning," she called to the empty store as her gaze roved over the jars and bottles that filled the shelves behind the counter. A heavy scent of cloves and dust filled the air, tickling her nose. One gloved finger under her nose helped her stifle a sneeze.
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  51
A wizened old man wearing a worn black suit stepped from behind one heavily stocked shelf. A fringe of white hair encircled his bald pate. "May I help you, miss?" He peered at her through thick glasses. His magnified eyes made him look like some exotic insect about to pounce on her.
"I have come for some items." Despite her nervousness, she handed him a list of what she and her aunts wanted.
He peered at the paper, then- gave her a grin which exposed yellowed teeth. "Practicing the dark arts, are ye, miss?"
The one thing her aunts had stressed was to never admit to any kind of witchcraft to a single soul. "Do you have what I need, sir?"
"Aye, but it won't be cheap." He shuffled back behind the shelves, and she could hear the clink of crockery and the rustle of paper.
Suddenly the air around Naomi shimmered with energy, and a jolt of awareness warned her that she was no longer alone with the herbalist. She turned to see a young man of stout build with golden blond hair and eyes the tawny color of a lion's, dressed in the first stare of fashion. "Good morning, Grimmett, I need two dragon scales and..." His voice petered out when his gaze lit on Naomi. A smile lit his face. With gallantry, he drew his hat from his head. "Good morning, lovely lady."
Audric, who'd been sniffing at some crumbled leaves at the edge of the counter, looked up. "Why, Esmond, what are you doing in town?"
Without so much as a flicker of surprise, the young gentleman looked at the terrier, then arched one sandy brown brow. "Is that you, Audie? You were much larger and less furry when last we met in Rome. Haven't been able to convince Brassel to release you from doing penance for your dalliance with the lovely Tianna?"
The dog shook his head. "I'm not willing to stir his wrath any further by visiting him to beg his mercy. The punishment could have been for a thousand years instead of a mere
52                            Lynn Collum
century. Life isn't so bad—but, Esmond, enough of my follies. Do allow me to present my cousin, Miss Naomi Clayton. Naomi, my old friend, Nathaniel Esmond."
Naomi had eyed the young man with interest as he'd nonchalantly chatted with her cousin. He had a pleasant face and a kind smile, but there was little about him that stirred her in the least. Was this the type of gentleman she was to spend the rest of her life with? Why didn't her stomach misbehave the way it did with Lord Newlyn? She pushed disappointment aside as the gentleman extended his hand to greet her.
Before they could do more than exchange comments on how Esmond and Audric knew one another, Mr. Grimmett returned from behind the shelves and put a sack on the counter. "Here's yer order, miss. That'll be five guineas."
"Five guineas!" Mr. Esmond halted, drawing off his York gloves. "Good heavens, Grimmett, what are you selling the lady that could be so expensive?" The young wizard waved his hand, and the bag disappeared to reveal the contents. On the counter sat a bottle labeled wormwood oil, a pouch which stated mugwort paste, a ball of goblin hair, two tamarind seeds in a vial, and a small jar full of newt eyes. The young wizard picked up the bottle, pulled the stopper, and sniffed. "Just as I thought. Corn oil. And I would guess the seeds are mere flowers and the eyes from creatures caught in a mousetrap." He waved his hand, and in a puff of smoke Mr. Grimmett disappeared. Within seconds, a large rat ran out from behind the counter.
The little rodent reared on his hind legs and in a high squeaky voice cried, "My mistake, Mr. Esmond. I mistook the lady for a toad-witch."
"Toad-witch?" Naomi asked her new acquaintance as she struggled not to laugh, for the rat had on a tiny pair of spectacles.
"A witch who practices the arts but has no natural magical talent, Miss Clayton. Most people avoid such witches because they are always drawn to black magic." The young
THE BEWITCHED BARON53
wizard waved his hand and Grimmett reappeared in his own form, his spectacles askew. He straightened the wire rims back on the bridge of his nose, then scooped Miss Clayton's order off the counter and hurried back behind the shelves to refill her list properly.
"Thank you for saving me from disaster, sir." Naomi shuddered at the thought of what would have happened had she used the wrong ingredients. -
Audric cocked his furry black head, arching one fuzzy brow. "What brings you to London, Esmond? The last time we spoke, you were searching Rome for a talisman which would protect you from demons."
"Turns out it was mere myth, so I came home to England. Spyros is in town and has taken on two apprentices. I was lucky enough to be chosen as one of them." His eyes grew vague as he seemed to fall into a pensive daze. "Why, if I can learn even half of what such a powerful wizard knows, I would be happy." As Grimmett came out from behind the shelves, Esmond came out of his reverie. "Would you like me to speak to the master about your situation, Audie?"
The dog shook his head. "I know what price human form would be, and it's too high."
Naomi looked a question at Mr. Esmond. The wizard nodded his understanding and explained, "He would have to give up his magic."
"Here's ye order, miss." Grimmett stepped from behind the counter and eyed the young wizard warily before he added, "That'll be six farthings, please. I gave ye this nice sack for free." He handed her a small black bag which looked like a reticule."
She paid the herbalist, then turned to Mr. Esmond. "It was nice to meet you, sir. I hope you will come to visit us. We are staying at Newlyn House in Berkeley Square."
The gentleman bowed over her hand. "It would be my pleasure to call, Miss Clayton." Just then Grimmett threw a second bag upon the counter.
"Yer dragon scales, sir."
54Lynn Collum
Esmond tossed several coins to the old man, settled his hat at a rakish angle, and disappeared with his purchase in a shimmering light. Then his voice echoed on the air. "Until tomorrow, my friends."
Naomi liked the young man very well, but she certainly had no desire to marry him, more's the pity. She slid the strings of the black sack on her arm with her reticule.
"Thank you, Mr. Grimmett." Naomi signaled for Audric to follow her. She stepped out of the shop. To her dismay, she was at once aware her hackney cab was nowhere in sight. A small crowd of dirty urchins had gathered as if waiting for her to come out.
"Wot ye reckon a fancy mort is doin' down 'ere lads?" a tall, gaunt lad of about fifteen called to the gathered crowd of riffraff. An unintelligible murmur ran through the group of boys, and their eyes glittered with avarice as they eyed her.
Naomi tugged her plain gray cape tighter as a chill of fear raced through her. She had the power to protect herself, if she must, but it could be used only as a last resort. At her feet Audric growled his best, then barked. Several of the young pickpockets fell back in fear. One of the lads reached out and tugged at her cape. "Wot ye goin' to give us to go away and leave ye be, miss?"
"A piece of my mind, if you don't stand back so I might pass." She sounded much braver than she felt. From the corner of her eye, she saw a lone rider approaching, and she prayed that the stranger would help her.
Several more lads reached out to grab at her cape. The ribbon holding it on her shoulders snapped, and the woolen cloak disappeared into the crowd. When the grimy hands began to tug at her green sprig muslin gown, Naomi swept her arm and shouted, "Away with you."
A sudden swirl of wind as powerful as a cyclone seemed to force the army of lads backward. Fright raced through the boys, who stared at the lady with fear. Just then the sounds
THE BEWITCHED BARON55
of hoofbeats grew near and the lads scrambled away, leaving only the lady, whose knees trembled.
"Miss Clayton, are you unharmed?"
Naomi looked up and relief flooded through her. Seated on a dappled gray Arabian was his lordship, leaning down and extending his hand to her. Concern glimmered in the depths of his green eyes. She reached out her gloved hands and before she knew what was. happening found herself lifted off her feet and settled on the pommel in front of the gentleman. His arms came round her as he took his reins and turned the horse back toward Mayfair. She sensed his anger, but at the moment she wanted only to feel the protection of those arms and to get away from the rookery. "Thank you for coming, sir." Then she called over her shoulder, "Come, Audric." The black dog raced behind the horse, his little legs churning to keep pace.
Through clenched teeth, the gentleman said, "Miss Clayton, what possessed you to come to one of the worst parts of London? Did Peterson not warn you it wasn't a proper place for a young lady? For that matter, it isn't a proper place for anyone, male or female, who wants to keep their life."
Naomi couldn't tell him that she had been in no real danger. It would have been only a matter of using more of her powers, but since she was grateful for his timely arrival, which had saved her from exposing herself as a witch, she merely said, "My aunts requested I go there, sir. I'm certain they had no idea Grimmett's was located in such a dangerous place."
There was a moment of silence as he drove the horse at a rapid pace back out of the dark slums. Only the sounds of the horse's shoes on the cobblestones broke the silence. Naomi peered over his shoulder and could see Audric was being left behind. "Could you slow down? My dog cannot keep pace."
The gentleman eyed the stores, which had grown more respectable, and slowed the horse to a brisk trot. After sev-
56Lynn Collum
eral moments, he said, "I would ask your promise that you won't go off again without consulting me or my grandmother."
Naomi could think of no reason why she should need to leave without an escort. "I promise," she meekly said, then added, "I was never so happy to see anyone in my life."
They rode the rest of the way to Berkeley Square in silence, but the entire time Naomi was patently aware of his strong chest pressed against her back. Soon she began to notice the strange looks they were receiving from the people walking abroad as they entered the square. All doubt was removed that it was most improper for her to be riding with the gentleman in such an intimate manner. When they approached Newlyn House, Naomi caught sight of two figures near the front door. In an instant she recognized Miss Ragsdale and her maid. It was clear by the expression on the woman's face that she was outraged to see Lord Newlyn riding with a young lady in his arms, and she grew even angrier when she realized the lady's identity.
Naomi felt his lordship's arms tense as he caught sight of the young woman. "Miss Ragsdale, what brings you to Newlyn House so early?"
Emotions openly warred on the young woman's features, but at last she managed to say in a civil tone, "Why, I came to consult you over several matters regarding my father's estate."
His lordship climbed down and lifted Naomi from the saddle. He smiled at Miss Ragsdale. "Pray forgive me for not being here, but there was an urgent matter I needed to attend to. I should be delighted to help you after I freshen up." He self-consciously ran a hand over his stubbled chin.
Amaryllis Ragsdale's gaze swept over the baron's unshaven face. "Newlyn, what can have possessed you to go out on the street in such condition?"
"I fear 'twas my fault, Miss Ragsdale." Naomi put on her warmest smile. She sensed they had shocked the young lady to the core. "I was so imprudent as to venture into a part of London that proved dangerous, and his lordship gallantly
THE BEWITCHED BARON57
came to my rescue. Do join me in a cup of coffee while his lordship goes to change."
A muscle twitched in Amaryllis's jaw. Then she cooed, "I prefer tea, but, yes, I should like a moment to share my greater experiences in London with you, Miss Clayton. Perhaps your aunts never told you, but there are simply some things a proper lady must never do."
His lordship frowned, but without saying anything, he ushered the young ladies into the front hall where Peterson took Naomi's reticule and bonnet, not commenting on the missing cape. The baron excused himself and the ladies went to the upstairs salon to await refreshment. Miss Ragsdale's pleasant facade disappeared completely once the door closed.
"I am not fooled by you in the least, Miss Clayton. I know what a feather in your cap it would be to become Lady Newhyn. But I warn you, he is mine."
Naomi laughed. "You very much mistake the matter. I am looking for a different kind of gentleman altogether." But the truth was, he was exactly the type of man she would have liked, only her aunts had something else in mind.
Amaryllis's hand shot out and grabbed Naomi's arm. "You do not want me as your enemy, Miss Clayton. I have lived in London most of my life and have a great many friends. Gossip can be a very powerful tool when wielded by the proper person. One whispered tidbit from me could end your stay in London. With your ill-advised jaunt this morning, all I would need do is hint that you and his lordship are... paramours, and you would no longer be accepted anywhere."
Before Naomi could respond, Peterson arrived with a footman carrying a tray of tea and cakes. Despite her disgust for Miss Ragsdale, Naomi reined in her anger and took a seat, knowing that the conversation was not over. The butler quickly poured out the tea, which he handed to each young lady, men inquired if Miss Clayton needed anything else. With Naomi's assurances that they had what they needed, the old servant left.
58                            Lynn Collum
Amaryllis took a sip from her cup and smiled smugly across the table at Naomi. "Have I made myself perfectly clear?"
Naomi put down her teacup. She had assumed that Lady Newlyn's dislike of the girl had been mere familial discontent with her grandson's choice, but she now realized it was because Miss Ragsdale was not a nice person. "My dear Amaryllis—I may call you that, may I not, since we are being so honest? In your vile ambition to capture Lord Newlyn's title and fortune, you have decided to declare war against me. Well, so be it." Naomi rose and smiled. "But be warned, you are inadequately armed for a battle, for I am not at all what I seem."
At that moment Amaryllis's teacup shattered in her hand, spilling tea all over the young lady's lavender morning gown. The lady gasped and jumped to her feet as a widening brown stain spread on the muslin fabric.
"My," Naomi said, "the tea must have been too hot for the fine china. You will forgive me, but I just remembered that I have things to do this morning." Naomi moved to the door, then paused and looked back, an intent expression on her lovely face. "Be warned, Miss Ragsdale. Any gossip about me would reflect badly on Marion, and I won't allow that to happen. Should one hint of scandal come to my ears, I would have to inform the family of your threats. Do you think her ladyship would doubt me? His lordship may not see you for what you are, but I think Lady Newlyn is not so unsuspecting." Naomi arched one dark brow. She politely bid the young woman good day and exited the room, well aware that her aunts would never have approved such a use of her powers—but she couldn't deny that it had given her supreme satisfaction to bring Miss Ragsdale down a peg.
Once upstairs, Naomi put the young woman out of her mind. She had a spell to do and she needed Abby to tell her where she might find some privacy.

THE BEWITCHED BARON                  59
When Wyndom came downstairs some fifteen minutes later, he discovered neither Miss Clayton nor Miss Ragsdale in the Green Salon. He went in search of Peterson, who informed him that one lady had gone to her room and the other had departed after spilling tea on her gown. He didn't mention the shattered cup, which he suspected Miss Ragsdale had broken in a fit of pique, for he couldn't think a delightful young woman like Miss Clayton would do such. Not only had she given Abby a recipe to soothe her stomach, but she also advised him to put rosemary in his tea after a hard day to relieve his aches and pains and had created a poultice for one of the grooms who'd rubbed a blister on his foot from borrowed boots. The entire staff liked Marion's new companion and woe be to Miss Ragsdale if she thought to drive her away.
The baron thanked his butler, then retired to his conservatory. It wasn't until he was settled at his desk that the thought came to him that he was relieved Amaryllis was gone. She would have been certain to ring a peal over him for having been out and about with Naomi that morning.
He bolted upright. Good heavens, when had he begun to think of Miss Clayton in such intimate terms? Was it the moment when he'd seen the joy on her face when she'd looked up to see him in her time of need? Or when she'd ridden back with him, nestled in his arms? Did it really matter when he'd begun to think of her so?
He plucked a sprig of rosemary and waved it under his nose. There was nothing wrong with his thinking of her as Naomi. After all, she was his sister's dearest friend. All he was certain of was that he had no more time to waste. He pulled his paperwork forward. The society was expecting his usual thorough work, and he would give them nothing less.

Audric sat perched on a straight-backed chair in the cluttered sewing room on the second floor at the end of the hall, his gaze riveted on Naomi as she performed the spell to give
60                            Lynn Collum
Marion courage. With all the servants below stairs at their duties, and the noises from the street muffled by distance, the room was nearly silent. The novice witch consulted her spell book not once but thrice to make certain she had the proper ingredients and the words to the spell. She'd slipped away after nuncheon and borrowed a small clay pot from the potting shed at the rear of the garden, dug just enough dirt from one of the flower beds for her seed to germinate, then found the old sewing room which Abby swore no one ever used anymore except for storage.
Naomi patted the dirt in which she'd planted one of the seeds purchased that morning, then put three drops of wormwood oil on top and half a cup of water. That done, she put a black ribbon round the pot as she chanted, "I bind Marion's fear." Then she placed the pot on a dust-coated windowsill to catch the morning sun and she sat on the floor, closed her eyes, and repeated the spell. "I conjure thee by night to come and bring to Marion a heart that's firm. As this seed's tendrils reach for the skies, so let Marion's courage arise."
The young witch opened her eyes and gave Audric a questioning glance. "Don't look at me, child. The only power I have now is to morph myself into different breeds. The rest all seems like gibberish." The canine gave a great sigh.
Naomi rose and brushed the dust from her hands as she looked about the neglected room. "I think my spell can be left here and won't be disturbed. Shall we go back to my room? I must change for supper, and I want to speak with Marion before we go down to dine."
With all taken care of, Naomi headed back to wait and watch for signs that her magic was taking effect. She knew the process would be slow, but that was good. The last thing she wanted was a sudden change in her friend to bring undue attention and questions.
That evening when Marion volunteered to join Lady Newlyn the following morning on her visit to Countess Littlebrook, a notoriously stern critic of young ladies new to Society, Naomi smiled a secret smile. She was certain the
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  61
spell was the reason. When she looked up to see his lordship watching her, she politely arched one brow.
The gentleman crossed the room and took a seat beside her, which strangely heightened the pace of her heartbeat. "What pleases you so about the ladies' visit with the countess?"
Without so much as a blink of her eye, Naomi concocted, "Why, that I shall not have to go if Marion is so willing. As a penniless vicar's daughter, the lady will have no more interest in me than in a potted palm."
"But palms are quite interesting. There are over forty known varieties, which no doubt—" The gentleman ceased, then smiled, completely unaware of what that did to the young lady's heart. "Forgive me. I fear that my love of botany often makes me forget that others don't find plants so interesting."
"I fear that the Lady Littlebrooks of the world wouldn't be able to distinguish me from any variety of palm, but don't think that means that everyone is disinterested. Have you all forty varieties in your conservatory?"
"I have managed to collect only seven. They don't do well in our cold climes."
Miss Clayton and Lord Newlyn spent almost twenty minutes in conversation about palms and their possible value and use. Across the room, the dowager watched the pair with interest. It had never occurred to her to think in terms of the vicar's daughter as a possible wife for Wyndom, but the girl was certainly an improvement over the scornful Miss Ragsdale. If nothing else, Naomi might show the baron that a pleasant mein and kind heart made for a much nicer atmosphere in one's home. Amaryllis rarely opened her mouth save to criticize them. If only Wyndom didn't feel duty bound to marry the girl. What was needed was a suitor for Miss Ragsdale, but where one could find such a man, the dowager didn't have a clue. She would have to give the matter some thought.
The members of the household were much in harmony on retiring that evening. In the morning after breakfast, Lady Newlyn and Marion departed for their round of visits, his
62Lynn Collum
lordship disappeared into his conservatory to work, and Naomi went to the drawing room to write a letter to her aunts. She had only just begun when Peterson arrived to inform her that a gentleman had come to call, a Mr. Esmond,
"Show him up, Peterson."
The old servant frowned, then cleared his throat. "Shall I ask his lordship to join you, miss?"
It suddenly occurred to Naomi that Audric was not enough companionship for her to be entertaining a gentleman alone in the drawing room. "Oh, there is no need to disturb Lord Newlyn. I shall come down to the hall."
Naomi entered the upper hall and halted at the top of the stairs as Audric stood at her side. "Mr. Esmond, how delightful to see you again." With Peterson at their heels, Audric barked a greeting, then raced down the stairs to where the gentleman stood.
With a twinkle in his golden eyes, the young wizard arched one brow. "Is mis animal safe, Miss Clayton? I do believe terriers are known to be quite ferocious."
A smile played about Naomi's mouth as the butler moved past her down the stairs. "You need not fear Audric, sir. He is a lover, not a fighter."
"Ah, I do believe I heard that somewhere. Can't leave the females alone. No doubt that will be his undoing." Mr. Esmond and Naomi chuckled.
As the green baize door closed behind the departing butler, Audric mumbled, "Laugh it up you two, but remember, eventually I shall get my powers back. Then you'd best be wary. I fully intend to take my revenge."
Esmond winked at Naomi. "Never fear, Miss Clayton. His bark has always been worse than his bite."
Audric rolled his eyes. "Good grief, no more of these jests at my expense. I'm going to the kitchen to see if I can coax some tidbits from Cook."
The dog trotted down the hall and pushed against the door that led to the kitchens, then slid through the opening.
"Should I go after him and apologize?" Naomi worried
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  63
that they had been too free with the levity at her cousin's expense.
Mr. Esmond shook his head. "He is not in the least offended. My guess is that he acted thus as an excuse to leave us alone."
Naomi sent a questioning look at her new friend. She certainly hoped she hadn't given him the impression that she was casting out lures.
"Oh, did you not know? Whenever a single witch and an eligible wizard meet, the matchmaking begins. It is quite annoying, to own the truth." He took her hand, bending over it as he gallantly kissed it. "But in your case, I cannot complain, my dear."
At that moment, Lord Newlyn exited the conservatory on his way to request more ink from Peterson. He halted at the sight of a handsome young gentleman bending over Miss Clayton's hand. A strange emotion surged through him that he couldn't quite pinpoint, but of one thing he was certain: the sight left him feeling decidedly unhappy.
The young lady caught him watching, and her cheeks flamed pink. "My lord, do come and meet an old friend of my family."
She made the introduction and the two gentlemen eyed one another with, if not hostility, a wariness that did not bode well for future friendship. "You have known Miss Clayton for long, Mr. Esmond?"
The gentleman shook his head. "We are only recently acquainted, sir. But her aunts and her cousin have known me and my family for years."
A strained silence followed, and Naomi suddenly wanted Mr. Esmond gone, but before she could usher him to the door, Lady Newlyn and Marion arrived back from their visit. Introductions were made, and the dowager eyed the young man with interest. She insisted he stay for tea, and they all returned to the salon where, surprisingly, Lord Newlyn joined them. Naomi was nervous, uncertain how the young wizard would interact with the Longs, but she needn't have
64                            Lynn Collum
had any fears. He was charming and quite like any other young gentleman of the ton, flirting with the ladies, full of gossip, and well traveled. The dowager questioned him about his expectations and learned that he was heir to a tidy property in the north. Yet the more the baron seemed to hear, the less he seemed to like the young gentleman.
To Wyndom's dismay, his grandmother invited the gentleman to dine with them that evening. It wasn't until the young man had taken his leave, promising to be there again by eight, and the two young ladies had departed to their rooms that the baron took his grandmother to task over her invitation.
A smile lurked in the old woman's eyes. "What can you have to object to about such a nice young man?"
"I cannot like the way he lingers over Marion and Naomi's hands when he bows to them. Why, for all we know, he might be a rake."
"A rake?" A strange light settled in the dowager's eyes. "Yes, a rake just might do." Leaving her grandson puzzled, Lady Newlyn departed for her room without explaining. Wyn returned to his conservatory, but sat lost in worry that he might need to pay more attention to the young ladies' activities. His thoughts that Naomi would look out for Marion had been completely wrong. Beauty and a headstrong nature made her vulnerable, especially to someone she trusted like this old family friend. The baron decided he must make inquiries about the man.
Mr. Esmond arrived back promptly at eight, bringing two bottles of extremely fine French wine as a gift for his hostess. Despite the quality of the gift, Wyndom still couldn't find that he liked the young man, who again flirted with all the ladies. The baron drank deeply of the wine as the conversation flowed round him. When he ordered the second bottle opened, Lady Newlyn suggested they retire to the drawing room, convinced her grandson had had far too much to drink.
While Marion and the dowager showed Mr. Esmond the
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  65
family portraits, the baron pulled Naomi aside. "What can you tell me of your Mr. Esmond?"
A little in his cups, he had clutched her arms and pulled her close. Naomi was surprised that she didn't dislike the feel of his warm breath on her cheek. "Why, I know little other than that my cousin has vouched him a gentleman."
"Is he a rake? My grandmother was babbling something about a rake this afternoon."
"Are you worried about Marion? You needn't be, for she is not gullible in the least."
"I am worried about you both."
The gentleman stared into her eyes with such intensity it took her breath away for a moment. "I—I do not think you need be concerned for either of us, sir. He is friendly, but not in the least pushing."
Lord Newlyn's eyes seemed to linger on her mouth for a moment, and Naomi wondered if he meant to kiss her. Then a burst of laughter from the others seemed to awaken him from his trance. He released her arms and stepped back.
"Forgive me." He ran a hand over his face. "I don't normally behave in such a manner. I fear my protective instincts are heightened since my sister is on the Marriage Mart."
Naomi wondered what that had to do with his concern for her, but she didn't ask. "You needn't fear that Lady Newlyn and I won't watch out for Marion. She is as dear to us as to you. Trust us, sir."
Their eyes locked for a moment, and some undercurrent which had nothing to do with Marion seemed to flow between them. The moment ended when Lady Newlyn summoned them to come round the tea tray Peterson had delivered while they were in conversation. Naomi's thoughts were all jumbled as she accepted her teacup from her ladyship. Why did she continue to have such strange reactions when she was with the baron? He was practically engaged to Miss Ragsdale, and her aunts had strongly encouraged her to wed a wizard. She looked across at the young wizard, who would most please Bebe and Iona, only to find Mr. Esmond
66                            Lynn Collum
eying her and Lord Newlyn with a speculative gaze. Clearly he had observed the tete-a-tete between her and his lordship and wondered about them. Lady Newlyn drew his attention and the moment passed.
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Naomi saw nothing in Marion's behavior to think she was captivated by the wizard and so dismissed his lordship's fears. But every laugh or gesture from the ladies seemed to make Lord Newlyn's eyes narrow. It wasn't until the end of the evening that Naomi wondered if perhaps the baron was jealous. But that was too absurd, so she dismissed it from her mind.
Mr. Esmond departed just after ten, which was rather early during the Season. His excuse was an engagement at eight the following morning. Naomi knew he had lessons with Spyros that one mustn't miss. As he said his good-byes, Lady Newlyn engaged the young man to escort them to a ball on the following night. He promised to call for them at seven.
After his departure, the baron took his grandmother to the library for a private conversation. Naomi suspected he would read the lady the riot act about inviting Mr. Esmond to join them. Clearly he didn't like the man. The irony was he didn't even know the worst, or what he would think was the worst, if he were to know about the young man's powers. Not the least worried about Nathaniel Esmond's intentions toward Marion, Naomi suggested a game of chess to her friend, who pleaded fatigue. She requested they retire early instead. Naomi had no objection. Her life in London had been far busier than anything she had experienced in her sheltered life.
Summoning Audric from his spot beside the fire, the young ladies headed up to their rooms. When Marion wished her friend good night, the dog barked.
"I declare, one would almost think he understood our conversation." Marion smiled, then entered her room.
Naomi rolled her eyes at Audric and she warned, "Take care not to attract such attention."
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  67
"No one here will ever suspect I was once human. It is too far from reality in their minds."
With that, the pair entered Naomi's room and closed the door.
Just two doors further down the hall, the single bark by Audric had sent the occupants of the room into chaos. Two kitchen maids had taken the half-full bottle of French wine left on the dining table and slipped to the sewing room to enjoy a well-deserved drink, away from Peterson's disapproving stare. At the sounds of the dog and the ladies, one had rushed to the window to toss out the wine bottle before they were caught. Unfortunately for her, the window was stuck, so she poured the wine into the flowerpot on the sill. To her surprise, there was a strange sizzling and popping sound. She peered in the flowerpot and whispered, "What were in this?"
The second maid, her eyes riveted on the door, shrugged. "Just an old pot. Ye needn't worry."
Nell hid the wine bottle behind a trunk, then joined her friend. As the two maids trembled and waited, the hall grew quiet. After several minutes, they slipped upstairs to the servants' quarters unseen, each promising never to be so foolish again. As Nell reminded her friend, Lord Newlyn was the best of masters, but even he wouldn't tolerate such behavior from his servants.
Chapter 4
The following evening, a knock sounded on Naomi's door as she sat at her dressing table, putting the finishing touches on her hair for the ball. She had used artificial daisies through her dark curls to match her yellow silk gown. A fleeting thought of how his lordship would react when he saw her flashed through her mind. She shook her head in frustration at her continued fascination with the gentleman, then turned and called for the visitor to enter.
Marion stepped into the room, quite lovely in a pink silk gown with white lace at the bodice and sleeves. A small rouleau with tiny white roses was just above her hem. There was a twinkle of excitement in her eyes that Naomi had never before seen, and she suspected that her spell was beginning to take effect.
"Are you ready? We mustn't keep Mr. Esmond waiting." Marion stepped up behind her friend and peered at her reflection for a moment, then seemed satisfied. "Guess who is coming to the ball?"
Naomi knew who she hoped. "Your brother?"
"Wyn!" Marion laughed. "Not unless the hostess is displaying some exotic plants on the dance floor. He hates such
THE BEWITCHED BARON69
affairs. 'Tis Sir Charles Amberson." She said the name with mock emphasis to show how unimpressed she was with the young man. "Grandmama had a letter from Lady Amberson this very day. I think she was hoping that grandmother would take him under her wing and open doors for him. Not that it matters, since Charlie isn't likely to be a nonpareil."
Naomi smiled at the memory of their old friend. After Sunday services when they were children, she, Marion, and Charlie had played freeze-tag behind the church while the adults stood about and talked. It was harmless fun, but the games had come to an abrupt end when Charlie knocked over a gravestone, which brought their illicit game to the notice of the adults. He had been quite clumsy, no doubt due to his girth.
"I thought he was still in the Peninsula with Wellington." Naomi grabbed her beaded reticule and rose, ready to go down to the drawing room. She had never been able to envision their lumbering friend a soldier, but then she hadn't seen him after he'd been sent to Harrow for his schooling.
"He sold out after his father died last year. Hurry, we don't want to be late. I have a feeling about tonight. I think I am going to meet someone special."
Naomi and Audric exchanged an amused glance before she called to him to be a good boy, then headed downstairs. They found Mr. Esmond and the dowager awaiting them. Naomi had secretly harbored the hope that his lordship would change his mind and accompany them, but to her disappointment, he was nowhere to be seen. They set out for the ball in Mr. Esmond's carriage, a splendid town coach which did much to raise the gentleman's stock in Lady Newlyn's eyes.
Like many of the early balls of the Season, the affair was a crush. Mr. Esmond escorted them through the receiving line and then found the ladies chairs against the wall until the dancing began. Lady Newlyn called Mr. Esmond to her side. Soon they were involved in a deep conversation, which puzzled Naomi, for Nathaniel was rather a lighthearted young
70Lynn Collum
man. But she was distracted from the pair when Marion eagerly pointed out the lovely decorations.
As the room filled with guests, several gentlemen they'd met at earlier balls came up and requested a dance with them. To Naomi's surprise, Marion was positively flirtatious. All doubt was removed that the spell was working.
When the strains of the first dance sounded, Marion rose to join Mr. Esmond and Naomi danced with a widower, Mr. Paulson, who'd come to town looking for a wife and mother for his four children. The dance seemed endless while she dodged questions about her housekeeping abilities, her background, and her interest in children's education. At last the gentleman returned her to Lady Newlyn's side, and Mr. Esmond was there to escort her out for the next dance as Marion went to the bottom of the set with Lord Fortesque, an old family friend. Before the music could start, Nathaniel leaned in and whispered, "What the devil did you tell Lady Newlyn about me?"
Naomi blinked in surprise. "Why, only that you are an old family friend."
"Then how did she come by the notion I am a rake?"
About to answer, Naomi paused when a gentleman entered the ballroom who struck a familiar chord with her. Yet she couldn't put a name to him. He was tall and slender, dressed in a well-cut blue coat. His hair was sun-bleached brown and he possessed a quiet reserve that she found appealing. She decided that he must remind her of someone.
Suddenly she wished Audric could be here to tell her if any of the guests were magical, for it did her no good to meet so many and not know. She looked up to see the wizard waiting for an answer to his question. "Pardon me, I fear I was woolgathering. What did you say?"
"Lady Newlyn thinks me a rake." His brows drew together as he glared at the old woman, who sat gossiping with her friends.
"I fear his lordship planted the idea in her mind. He sus-
THE BEWITCHED BARON71
pects you of having designs on his sister and her fortune, but surely her ladyship didn't accuse you of such."
"More likely he fears I have designs on you." He arched one sandy brow in question.
"Me? We are but mere acquaintances, sir." Naomi's eyes widened.
"One does not look at a mere acquaintance with such intensity, my dear." At that moment, the orchestra began to play, and it was several moments before the movement of the steps brought them together to converse and he continued, "The dowager made no accusations. She only hinted that I should turn my charms on a Miss Ragsdale, as if I were some cursed fortune hunter. Who is she?"
Naomi thoughts were in turmoil at the wizard's assertion about Lord Newlyn. As she struggled to keep to the subject at hand, she looked across the room and gasped when Marion stepped from the line of dancers and threw her arms round the neck of the young man Naomi had admired earlier. Without the least reserve, Marion pressed her lips to his. A collective gasp could be heard from the guests. The music continued, but the dancers all craned their necks to stare at the young lady who'd practically ruined herself in front of the ton.
"Oh, good heavens, this is a disaster," Naomi uttered in despair, for she hadn't a single doubt her botched magic had induced Marion to behave with such abandon. "This is all my fault."
Nathaniel Esmond arched one brow at her. "Do I suspect a spell gone awry?" When she nodded, he pulled her from the line of dancers and began to stroll nonchalantly toward the refreshment room. "Oh, Anu, my old protector, save me from novice witches," he said, teasingly, then winked at her. "Come quickly. I think we can save your young companion from total social ruin."
He drew her into an alcove, then turned his back to the room. He folded his arms and stood in silence for a moment,
72                            Lynn Collum
then nodded his head before he called on the ancient gods to protect an innocent harmed by magic. Naomi was awed by the power that emanated from the experienced wizard. She wasn't certain if he truly glowed or if it was her own ability to see what ordinary mortals could not see. As the strains of the music died out, she heard a murmur race through the guests and she went to the archway to look out. A fashionable gentleman with impeccable grooming entered the ballroom and went straight to Marion and the young man, who seemed rather disconcerted by the girl's forward behavior. The newcomer greeted the pair, then stood in conversation with them for a moment. About to depart, he kissed Marion's hand and shook the young man's.
Nathaniel came up behind Naomi. She looked back at him. "Who is that?"
"Beau Brummell."
She had heard of the powerful arbiter of fashion. "What can he do for Marion?"
"His notice will do much to elevate her above the gossip. He shall now go about the room and inform all that Miss Long is an adorable innocent so overwhelmed with the safe return of her friend from the war that she quite forgot herself. Then he will declare her a true original and she will be made." The wizard smiled with satisfaction.
Naomi was amazed that Brummell could be so powerful. Then her mind locked on something Nathaniel said. "Her friend?"
"My spirit world guide tells me the gentleman is a Sir Charles Amberson, recently returned from the Peninsula."
"Charlie!" Naomi stared at the young man who, after Brummell moved to another group, had folded Marion's arm through his and taken her to her white-faced grandmother. There were only remnants of the boy from Yorkshire in the man beside her friend. As shocking as Marion's conduct had been, Naomi was greatly relieved that Marion hadn't kissed a complete stranger.
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  73
Beside her, Mr. Esmond put out his arm. "Shall we join the party?" He escorted her back to Lady Newlyn, where there was something of a reunion of the three old friends. Beside them the dowager sat speechless, staring at her granddaughter as if she were standing only in her shift.
Naomi only had moments to reminisce with Charlie before her next partner came to claim her for a country dance. The baronet escorted Marion onto the floor and later down to dinner. It wouldn't be until after the ball that the full impact would come of how close they had been to total disaster that evening, and all because she had been foolish enough to try casting a spell despite her aunts' warnings of no magic.
Thanks to Nathaniel, Naomi heard Marion being touted as one of Brummell's favorites of the Season and a certain success. With the wizard's help, they had averted social ruin. Naomi knew she owed him quite a debt.
At the end of the evening, Nathaniel duly delivered the ladies back to Berkeley Square. Last out of the carriage, Naomi whispered a heartfelt thanks and squeezed his hand. Nathaniel held on to her hand as the other ladies hurried into the town house. "If only I had met you first, perhaps..." He shrugged at fate's fickleness. "But love has its own kind of magic, and I think you and Lord Newlyn will have to find that out for yourself."
"But you are mistaken, we—"
The gentleman put a finger over her lips. "Don't give up true love for magic, my dear. With the right person, you can have both." He bowed over her hand before he climbed back into his coach, then lowered me window and added, "I believe there is a spell that you might want to put to an end— tonight." He gave her a knowing look as the coach pulled away.
Naomi, her thoughts so full of Lord Newlyn, had completely forgotten that the spell was still ongoing. She dashed across the sidewalk into the house, bid the footman good night, and followed the ladies upstairs.
74Lynn Collum
When she reached the landing, Marion was waiting, her eyes shining. "Did you not think Sir Charles looked very well?"
Before Naomi could comment, Lady Newlyn came back down the hallway and said, "I should like to have a word with you, young lady, about that young man."
Marion's cheeks flamed red even as Naomi tried to intervene to protect the girl, but her ladyship ordered, "Go to bed, Naomi. I won't bite the child's head off, but I shall have my say." With that, her ladyship ushered her granddaughter into her room and closed the door.
Guilt raced through Naomi. It was her fault that Marion was getting such a trimming for her scandalous conduct, but her grandmother doted on her and would forgive her. Naomi went into her room to wait until Marion retired.
Audric sat up. "How was the ball?"
"A near disaster." She explained what had happened.
"The spell must be destroyed at once." Audric jumped down and came to stand beside her. They both stood and listened.
It was nearly fifteen minutes before Marion departed her grandmother's room to retire to her own chamber. There was no time to waste. Naomi took her candle and slipped into the sewing room, the small dog on her heels. She went to the window where the pot sat, appearing undisturbed. What had gone wrong with her spell? She picked up the pot and the strong odor wafted up.
"It smells like wine. How did wine get in the pot?"
"It doesn't matter. Destroy the spell."
Naomi hurriedly found a small carton full of yarn which she emptied before she dumped the dirt into the box. Sifting through the wet soil, she found the germinating seed. She held it in her hand and called, "Terminar."
The seed with its newly formed roots shimmered a moment, then disappeared like sparkling dust. A sigh of relief came from her lips and she brushed off her hands.
THE BEWITCHED BARON75
Audric trotted to the door and listened, then came back. "We need to get rid of everything so there won't be any questions."
Naomi stared at the soil and empty pot. "I will return everything to where I got it." She took the carton of dirt and pot, then hurried downstairs, Audric padding quietly behind her. The front hall stood empty and dark, except for her small circle of light. Without making the least noise, she opened the door to the conservatory. To her relief, no one was there, but the room was lit with warming lanterns to protect the plants against the night's chill. She followed Audric down the long rows of plants to the rear door, then stepped into the moonlit garden. The moon was full, bathing the area in silvery light, so she left her candle on a ledge near the door. Audric disappeared into the depths of the garden.
The chilled night air nipped at her as she hurried to the rear of the garden and dumped the box of soil. She leaned forward to push the carton under a small tree, promising herself to return in the morning and take the clay pot to the potting shed.
"Miss Clayton?" Lord Newlyn's voice sounded from behind her.
His unexpected presence startled her, and she almost tumbled headlong into the bushes. His lordship's strong hands grabbed her about the waist and pulled her back from the brink of an accident. As he pulled her upright, she lost her balance, and both his arms slid round her. She found her body pressed against his. A strange silence seemed to fall over the garden. For just a moment, he held her close in the moonlight's silvery glow. A tremble of something unexpected raced through Naomi as she turned her face up to his, wanting and longing for something that she shouldn't desire.
A magic as strong as any spell she'd ever done seemed to engulf them, and his warm mouth closed over hers. In that instant, as her body trembled from head to toe, she realized that, magic or no, she'd lost her heart to him.
76Lynn Collum
Suddenly he released her and stepped back. Naomi felt abandoned.
"Miss Clayton, I apologize. I don't know what came over me." His voice was husky.
Clearly he was distressed by his actions, so Naomi, despite what she felt, made light of the kiss. "I suspect we were both bewitched by the moonlight, sir." She looked up at the glowing orb. "Is there anything more romantic than this silvery light?"
He stood silent for a moment, staring at her, then said, "No." Yet his tone was full of doubt. After a moment he asked, "What are you doing in the garden so late?"
Just then Audric trotted up beside Naomi. "Walking my dog."
"If he is finished, you should retire. You need your rest."
"Good night, sir." Naomi hurried from the garden, her thoughts in turmoil. She didn't say a word to Audric as they climbed the stairs. Once in her chamber, she bid him a terse good night and stepped behind the screen to don her night-rail and wrapper. But when she went to climb into bed, she saw her canine cousin eyeing her with a knowing glint. Had he seen what happened in the garden? "He is practically engaged, I tell you."
"Like I said, the heart wants what the heart wants." Audric settled his head on his front paws, never taking his eyes from Naomi.
She blew out the candle, but sleep did not come. How true were Audric's words. She was in love with a man who intended to ask another woman to marry him out of duty. As much as she might hope that he would change his mind, she still had the burden of her secret life—a life that few mortals understood. Why had she been such an utter fool as to fall in love with a man and not a wizard?
In the garden below, Wyndom was asking himself some hard questions as well. Why had he kissed Naomi with the eagerness of some schoolboy? Because she was beautiful and desirable as well as kind and intelligent, all characteris-
THE BEWITCHED BARON77
tics any sensible man would want in a wife. But he had a duty to take care of Amaryllis. It was what her father wanted. He had criticized Naomi for wanting love, but he found himself contemplating such emotions for the first time in his life. 
"Bah! Don't be a fool and mistake love and lust," he spoke in the empty garden. With clenched fists, he determined that he must do his duty and ask Amaryllis to marry him when her mourning was at end, but that thought didn't help push from his mind the memory of the soft feel of Naomi pressed against him. As storm clouds covered me moon, leaving the garden in darkness, he entered the house and tried to leave behind any thoughts of a future with Naomi.

Abbey woke Naomi just before noon the following day with the news that Miss Marion had awakened with a dreadful cough. They were hoping Naomi might have a home remedy. She rose and quickly dressed, then headed down to the conservatory, taking Audric with her. His lordship was nowhere to be seen, but she knew he would have no objection if she harvested a few leaves from his plants. Audric went outdoors while she scoured the conservatory until she found the horehound plant. It was no cure, but would relieve her friend's cough. She was in the process of plucking the leaves when she was interrupted.
"Miss Clayton, what are you doing to Newlyn's prized plants?"
Naomi didn't have to look up to know the querulous voice belonged to Miss Ragsdale. "I am going to make a remedy for Marion's cough."
"I shall have to inform him you have been damaging his plants." A smug look sparkled in the young lady's eyes.
"Do that if it makes you feel better. Come, Audric," she called toward the garden. "You must excuse me, but Marion is waiting." Naomi swept past the young lady and her maid without the least worry.
78                            Lynn Collum
Amaryllis Ragsdale tapped her foot as she stared into the garden in thought. Nothing seemed to disconcert that conniving jade, and there was still a full month before she was officially out of mourning. Perhaps her mother was right. She should put herself in a compromising position with his lordship, and he would be forced to declare himself.
She turned to her maid. "Go wait in the hall."
"But, miss, ye mother said—"
"Go!" Amaryllis snapped, and the little maid disappeared.
The young lady's mind ran over the possibilities, and it suddenly occurred to her that pretending to faint would make him take her in his arms. All she need do was prolong the moment until Peterson or one of the footmen found them, and her task was done. A smile tipped her mouth as she hurried to the upstairs salon, where the butler had left her but she hadn't remained, for she was certain she might find Wyndom in bis conservatory when he hadn't come.
Impatiently she waited until the butler brought the tea tray she had requested on arriving. She sipped the tea he poured and waited for him to depart. Then she rose and quickly removed her bonnet and tossed it on a nearby chair. She undid the ribbon that held the top of her bodice, exposing the mounds of her small breasts, which had been helped by her mother's tight lacing. After a glance in the looking glass, she pulled free several strands of curls. All was set when she looked down to see Miss Clayton's dog watching her.
"Go away, you stupid mutt—"
"I wouldn't be calling people names, for I can think of a few that would suit your present conduct—-like strumpet or doxy." The dog grinned at her and waggled his thick brows.
Amaryllis's face blanched white, and for a moment it appeared she might truly faint. "W-what are you?"
Audric cocked his head and looked at her. It had occurred to him in the conservatory that as long as Miss Ragsdale was part of the scene, Naomi would never have her true love. So he had taken it upon himself to do what he could to reveal
THE BEWITCHED BARON79
the woman's true nature. But how best to do that? Revealing himself would not be enough. He had to completely discredit her.
"I am Cupid, who has taken this form to promote true love." Audric watched her to see how she would take his lies. It was fortunate that she didn't know that Cupid was down in the tropics chasing some island beauty right now, for he detested the rain, cucumber sandwiches, and Prinny.
The lady eyed him warily, uncertainty on her face. It was not every day that one saw a talking dog, but she seemed to be interested in what this talking dog had to say. She questioned, "True love?"
Audric nodded. "True love between Miss Clayton and Lord Newlyn."
Amaryllis stamped her foot so hard the chandelier in die room below rattled, frightening the maid who was dusting there. "I forbid it. I have spent too much—"
In a puff of smoke, Audric changed his size and shape. When the smoke cleared, a huge brown mastiff, which was as menacing as he could be, stood there instead of the small terrier. "Don't take that tone with me. I could turn you, Miss Ragsdale, into a wharf rat."
The lady stepped back, her eyes like saucers. Then, as if she suddenly realized all that she had seen and heard, she began to shriek at the top of her lungs. The sounds of thundering footsteps could be heard in the hallway. Within moments, Lord Newlyn, without his jacket and with his cravat half tied, the dowager and Marion in their wrappers, Naomi, Peterson, and several housemaids with dust cloths entered the drawing room to find a rather disheveled Miss Ragsdale standing in the middle of the room in hysterics.
The baron went to her side as the others stood in the doorway and watched. "What is wrong, Amaryllis?"
"That—that dog is not a dog." She pointed to Audric, who was again a small black terrier. He was on the rug, chewing on the strings of the young lady's reticule with such gusto one would have thought it a beefsteak. While his lord-
80                            Lynn Collum
ship ushered Miss Ragsdale to a chair near the window, Naomi rushed to the dog and pulled the purse from him. In a whispered undertone, she asked, "What have you been up to?" Then in a louder voice she added, "Naughty dog."
The dowager arched one brow. "Just as I thought. All that fretting and fuming has weakened her mind."
Amaryllis sat forward. "I tell you that dog is—" She paused and seemed to think better of what she was about to say when she saw the looks on everyone's faces. She eyed the black dog thoughtfully. Then she said, "It must have been the tea. It was drugged."
A frown appeared on Lord Newlyn's face. "Drugged? By whom and why, Amaryllis?"
The malice was evident in the young lady's face as she stared across the room. "By her." She pointed at Naomi. "I found her plucking leaves from one of your plants, Newlyn. She is trying to discredit me in your eyes. She wants to steal your affection from me."
Everyone looked at Naomi, but she only saw his lordship's eyes, and his disapproving look frightened her. "I did take leaves from a horehound plant to make tea for Marion this morning. You can ask Peterson. He watched me brew it. It was to ease her cough."
When everyone looked to the butler, he shrugged. "In truth, I didn't pay much attention, for I was busy making tea for Miss Ragsdale. But it seems to have worked, for Miss Marion isn't coughing."
Marion nodded. "It worked wonderfully, but it tasted rather dreadful."
Amaryllis jumped to her feet. "She could have slipped something in my tea while he wasn't looking."
Marion, despite her sniffles, said, "How dare you, you vulgar creature?  I might have been tempted to put something in your tea, but Naomi would never deliberately harm anyone."
"You are too spoiled to see what is in front of you," Amaryllis cried, then fell into his lordship's arms, weeping.
THE BEWITCHED BARON81
Lady Newlyn bristled. "Don't speak to my granddaughter in that manner."
"Ladies!" Wyndom's voice held such authority that they all fell silent. "We shall sort this out later. Amaryllis, I think your maid should escort you home and allow you to rest. You are overset. I shall visit with you this afternoon."
The young lady started to protest, but the baron directed Peterson to have her taken home in a carriage so there could be no further protest. After the butler escorted the young lady from the room, along with the maids, Wyndom urged his sister back to bed, and his grandmother to finish her toilette. When Naomi turned to depart as well, he requested that she stay and walked over to close the door.
At last he turned to look at her. "Have you malice toward Miss Ragsdale?"
"If you mean do I like her, no, I do not, but I did not drug her tea as she suggested." Naomi's ire rose that he would think her capable of such a heinous act. Was he so enamored with the lady that he took her side in the matter?
He folded his hands behind him. "I have known Amaryllis Ragsdale for most of her life, and while she can be a bit formal and"—he struggled a moment to describe the young lady—"authoritative, I cannot—"
"Sir, you are so involved with your plants, you are aware of little else. You have no idea what Miss Ragsdale's nature is, or you would not think to inflict her on your family." Naomi couldn't remember when she had been so angry. Her calmer self knew that there was no true reason for such anger, but it still simmered deep within her. Why could the man not see that Miss Ragsdale was a fraud?
The gentleman's eyes held a wounded look for a moment. Then he straightened. "I know that you are nothing like the young woman we remember from Yorkshire. I would never have put such a question to the vicar's daughter." He suddenly seemed to realize what he had just said and rubbed a hand over his face. "Naomi, how did we get to this pass? I could never think you capable of such an act, but how else to
82                            Lynn Collum
explain a woman of Amaryllis's intelligence having such a strange experience?"
The anger rushed from Naomi and only guilt remained. She loved this man and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. It was clear he must know the truth. She straightened, fear racing through her at what she was about to do. She might be sending him straight into Miss Ragsdale's arms. Her mother had revealed the truth and it had destroyed her marriage. Better to know now than to have him end his plans to wed Amaryllis, only to find that he could not accept that Naomi was a witch.
"I am basically still diat young woman whose father taught her virtues, but there is more to me, sir. Yet know this: I would never do harm to Miss Ragsdale or anyone else." She walked to the fireplace and pick up a crystal dove from the mantel, then turned.
The gentleman's brows rose. "What do you mean, more?"
She didn't explain. Instead she let her actions speak. She said the incantation needed, circled her hand once over the glass, and the porcelain bird sprang to life. It fluttered its wings, then sat in her hand cooing for a moment.
Disbelief etched the baron's face. "Was that some sleight of hand? Have you been keeping company with the tricksters from the fair? I should think your aunts would have kept a better watch on you." His gaze was locked on the bird, which Naomi took to the window and released.
She closed the sash and looked back at him, but it was clear he didn't understand. "It is no trick, I am—"
Audric rose and finished the sentence. "A white witch."
Lord Newlyn didn't say a word as his gaze darted from Naomi to the dog and back. All Naomi needed to know was written in the expression on his face. It was a combination of horror and mistrust. Suddenly nothing mattered when she realized the man she loved not only seemed to fear her, but suspected she would do evil because of that single word— witch.
THE BEWITCHED BARON
83
He shook his head as he stared at her. "It's not possible. I am a man of science. I don't believe in witches or magic, black or white. I begin to think you have drugged us all."
His words were like a knife in Naomi's heart. Fighting back the urge to cry, she said, "Perhaps someday you will realize that there are some things science cannot explain. Good-bye, Lord Newlyn. Come, Audric." With that, she left the man who had no wish to possess Jier heart.
The door closed behind the girl, and Wyndom stood in the middle of the drawing room, his thoughts in utter chaos. He had kissed her last night and realized that he had feelings for her. Had she bewitched him? His thoughts ran through all their encounters, and he'd seen nothing to make him think she had manipulated him with spells, but did one know when one was under a witch's thrall? He couldn't grasp the concept of magic, except he'd seen her transform the statue with his own eyes and her dog had spoken.
He turned, running a hand through his hair, and caught sight of himself in a pier glass near the door. His cravat was only half tied and he still had to finish his toilette, for today was the day he was to present his paper to the society.
Despite what he'd just seen and heard, he had an obligation to fulfill his responsibility to the others in the botanical society. But the need to speak with Naomi further pressed in on him. Should he go and leave her here with his sister and grandmother? But in his heart he knew the girl was no danger to anyone under his roof. His paper must be presented in two hours. He would sort out his thoughts about Naomi when he returned. The baron hurried from the room.

"You are leaving us?" Marion sat up in bed, where her grandmother had insisted she return after the foolishness in the drawing room. "Don't let silly accusations by Amaryllis drive you away. Of course no one believed her."
Lady Newlyn, seated beside her granddaughter's bed,
84                            Lynn Collum
added her voice of protest. "Wyn is too smart to believe that you would have drugged anyone, my dear. Of course you cannot leave. Marion still needs you."
After her encounter with Lord Newlyn, there was no doubt that Naomi would return to her aunts at once. In the safety of her room, she had debated whether or not she should confide in the ladies of Newlyn House. Audric had argued against it, but instinctively she knew she could trust them and had decided they deserved the truth.
She took a seat on the edge of her friend's bed and looked at the dog, who watched her with wary dark eyes.
"I think Marion has found what she is looking for in Charlie."
Marion blushed, then smiled. "Do you think he likes me?"
The dowager chuckled. "I think he never took his eyes off you when he wasn't dancing with you, child." A frown puckered the old woman's brow. " 'Tis quite fortunate he didn't take exception to your fast conduct." On seeing her granddaughter's blush, she raised her hand dismissively. "But there has been enough said on that matter."
Naomi sighed, seeing one more reason she must own up to her magic. "So you see there is no need for me to stay."
Marion leaned forward and grabbed Naomi's hand. "But I want you to have your chance to make a match—"
"That isn't likely to happen. I—I do not think I am suited for London. Besides, Lord Newlyn will want me gone."
The Longs exchanged a puzzled glance. Then the dowager asked, "Did you quarrel with my grandson after we left you, my dear?"
Naomi shook her head. "I revealed something to him I should have told you all when I first arrived." She took a deep breath, then said, "I am a witch."
Both Marion and the dowager stared at her with blank expressions, clearly not taking Naomi's meaning. Then Lady Newlyn laughed and waved a hand. "My dear, we have all been witches at one time or the other. My late husband used to say it's in the female nature to be witchy when—"
THE BEWITCHED BARON85
Naomi shook her head. "I'm not acting like a witch, I am a witch." She stood up, and with a wave of her hand she changed Marion's pink curtains and bed covers to a deep blue. Then she stepped to a nearby table and picked up a candelabra. Taking a deep breath she blew and all five candles flamed to life.
"Oh, my!" Lady Newlyn looked from the brightly colored fabric to Naomi, then to the flickering candles, which were once again on the tables. "If only I had been able to do that when I was a new bride at Newlyn Manor, it would have saved me a great deal of time and trouble with my mother-in-law. Well, my dear, you are certainly full of surprises."
Naomi was surprised at how calm her ladyship seemed on learning she had a witch under her roof. "You do not seem the least discomposed by my announcement."
The dowager sat back in her chair to eye the girl thoughtfully. "My dear child, the advantage to being my age is that you gain a bit of wisdom. Over time I have learned that no matter how much one knows, there is always something one doesn't know. Besides, you have been here for over a week and of one thing I'm certain. You haven't a mean bone in your body. A witch you may be, but not an evil one, I wager."
Audric sat up and smiled. "You are a great gun, my lady. I recognized it the first time we met."
Marion and the dowager stared at the animal with far more awe than they did at Naomi and her announcement. Lady Newlyn asked, "You speak?"
Naomi quickly explained who Audric was and the spell he must endure for one hundred years.
Lady Newlyn shook her head in amazement as she stared at the pair. "So a witch and a wizard all under our roof and us without the least idea."
Marion's eyes had grown round as she had listened to the exchange and gazed at the changes her friend had wrought. Then she smiled. "A witch, Naomi? What else can you do?"
"A great many things. But my aunts did not want me practicing magic in London. I am still a novice and things can often go wrong, like the spell I did to give Marion courage."
86Lynn Collum
The Long ladies exchanged a look of dawning realization. "So that is why my granddaughter suddenly behaved like a little baggage. That is a great relief off my mind." Lady Newlyn looked at her granddaughter with renewed pride.
Marion sat up with her eyes narrowed. "And Brummell, was he part of your magic?"
Naomi shook her head. "That was thanks to Mr. Esmond. He is a powerful wizard and stepped in to help me. You won't tell anyone, will you?"
The dowager shook her head. "Of course not, child. Imagine, there are witches and wizards all mixing with the ton." A wicked twinkle came into her eyes. "How I should like you to put a wart on Mrs. Drummond-Burrell's nose for all the times she has stuck it in the air to cut people over the years."
Naomi arched a brow at the lady.
"I was only teasing, my dear." Lady Newlyn grinned sheepishly.
Marion gasped, "Oh, Naomi, did you cast a spell for Charlie and me to fall in love?"
Naomi put her hands palms outward in a gesture of denial. "Love spells are forbidden. All I did was to bind your fear and release your true courage. Whatever you and Charlie feel is from your hearts."
A contented smile lit Marion's face. "He is wonderful, is he not?"
Lady Newlyn asked, "And what of your heart, Naomi? Am I wrong in thinking that my grandson—"
Naomi started up from the bed. "I am a witch, and, as my mother found out, not just every man would want such for a wife. I think it best I return home."
The dowager and her granddaughter did their best to convince Naomi to stay. But at last the ladies gave way when Naomi assured them she couldn't be happy at Newlyn House, especially with Miss Ragsdale soon to be his lordship's fiancée.
THE BEWITCHED BARON87
Her ladyship summoned Peterson and ordered the carriage be made ready for a journey back to Wiltshire that very afternoon. When her ladyship accompanied Naomi to finish her packing, Audric jumped from the floor to the chair to Marion's bed. The girl eyed him timidly.
"She loves him, you know."
Marion clutched at her covers. "Charlie?"
"No, your brother—and I'm certain he cares about her. Would you like to help them?"
"Me? How?"
"A little magic."
Marion frowned. "I should love to do that, but I am no witch."
Audric waggled his brows. "True, but even someone without power can do a spell if they truly believe in the power of magic."
A strange light began to glimmer in the young lady's eyes. She sat up. "What must I do?"
"I tore a spell from her magic book while she was distracted. It is tucked under the wardrobe in her room. Follow the directions exactly and Miss Ragsdale's dark heart will be revealed to Lord Newlyn."
Excitement made Marion's cheeks rosy. "So I, too, can do magic."
Audric jumped onto the girl, his paws pushing her shoulders back into her pillows. "Beware, Miss Marion. Do this one spell and only this spell."
"But why? Naomi is a witch. Why should I not—"
"Only a special few are born with true magical powers, child. It is a gift for doing good. If you do magic without the gift, you will be drawn into the dark forces. It is always so for witches. That is why the only ones you hear about are evil. Now, Miss Marion, promise me you will use the one spell, then tear it up and never again try to do sorcery."
Marion blinked, then nodded. "I promise."
Audric stared into her eyes and he believed her. "You must do the spell this very day or his lordship might be lost
88                            Lynn Collum
to Miss Ragsdale forever." The dog jumped down and hurried out of the room. Marion lay back, her mind reeling with what had just happened. Would she be able to do the spell? Of course she would. Anything to keep Wyn from marrying Amaryllis Ragsdale. She would sneak into Naomi's room later and find the paper. Perhaps it was best her grandmother hear what she intended to do later, just in case the magic went awry. Marion sneezed, then snuggled down into the covers to wait until the time for action was right.
By two o'clock Naomi climbed into the carriage to set off for home, with Audric to keep her company. The novice witch hoped her cousin would help her to explain what had gone wrong—that she, like her mother before her, had lost her heart to a mortal.
As the carriage pulled away from the curb, Marion slipped from her bed and ran to the window. The time was right, and she slipped into Naomi's room. The spell was where Audric had told her it would be. Without the least hesitation, she read what she needed and what she must do. She gave a nod of her head and set about findmg what she would need. If she were lucky, her brother would be free from Miss Ragsdale by sundown.
Chapter 5
"Is everything as it should be, Wyn?" Ned Camden asked as he leaned back in the carriage and eyed his old friend thoughtfully. They had recently departed from the meeting of the Linnean Society.
"Why do you ask?" Wyn looked out at the street, his distraction making him snappish.
"You were a bit abrupt in there. Not your usual style after a presentation." Mr. Camden had known the baron since Eton and was well familiar with his friend's normal mein. Often he would stay for hours to answer questions on his presentations.
Wyn shrugged. "I have several things on my mind. Nothing you need concern yourself about. I shall come about soon." The frown on his face grew deeper.
"Perhaps a visit to White's might help? A drink and congenial conversation often helps me put my worries behind me." Ned couldn't imagine what had his congenial friend so out of sorts.
The baron shook his head. "I cannot. I promised to visit Miss Ragsdale this afternoon."
Ned sighed. "You know my thoughts on that young woman.  Just drop me on St. James's Street and I shall walk home from there." He had been quite vocal in his dislike of the lady. It was his opinion that Wyn was going beyond duty to be offering for Amos Ragsdale's daughter.
When the carriage reached St. James's, Wyn signaled the coachman to stop and the friends parted ways. In a matter of some fifteen minutes, the baron was outside Miss Ragsdale's door.
He was torn as to what he would say to Amaryllis about the incident that morning. There was no question that he would not betray Naomi's confidence. Amaryllis, no doubt, would want to burn the girl at the stake if she knew the truth. He lifted the knocker, but his hand froze when he heard a dreadful screeching inside the small house. What the devil?
Moments after he knocked, the door opened to reveal a maid looking as if she were afraid of her own shadow.
"Good morning, Sally. I have come to see how Miss Ragsdale fares."
The girl bobbed a curtsy. "My lord, I ain't certain she's receivin'." The maid looked back over her shoulder in doubt, even as a crash of glass sounded in the drawing room.
"I am expected." Wyn couldn't imagine what was happening.
With a shrug, the maid led the gentleman upstairs. She opened the door to a room in utter chaos. Flowers had been tossed about, magazines and books were strewn on the floor, and a teacup was upended on the table, the saucer shattered. Mrs. Ragsdale was standing in front of her daughter, holding onto her arm.
"Amy, dearest, you cannot behave in this—"
As Wyn stepped into the room, Amaryllis, unaware she had a visitor, drew back her hand and struck her mother full across the cheek.
"I don't have to do what you say. I shall send you away once I am married, and I won't ever have to listen to your simpering again."
The older woman grabbed her cheek and turned away.  She caught sight of his lordship standing in the doorway and gasped, "Lord Newlyn!"
The gentleman stiffly bowed. "I fear I intrude, madam." He addressed himself to the mother but his narrowed gaze was locked on the daughter.
Mrs. Ragsdale hurried to his side, fear in her eyes. "Sir, I do assure you that this is not what you think. She hasn't had one of these spells since her father died."
"Spells?" A deep sense of foreboding settled into Wyn. What didn't he know about Amaryllis? Had his loyalty to Amos blinded him to her faults, as everyone said? But he was certain he had never before seen her like this.
Mrs. Ragsdale wrung her hands. "Well, not exactly a spell. More like a little fit of pique over the merest trifle. You have a sister. Surely you understand. We do spoil our girls so."
With a hopeful look, she gazed up at him. Before he could deny that his sister had ever behaved in such a manner, Amaryllis put her hands on her hips ands glared at him. In every other way she looked normal, but her words were startling. "Well, so you have finally found time to pay a call. I could have been on my deathbed for all you cared. Can I assume you have at least sent that dreadful creature back home where she belongs? I tried to tell you and that obnoxious grandmother of yours that some country nobody didn't belong in London. No one heeds my advice."
"Amaryllis!" Mrs. Ragsdale cried. "What will his lordship think?"
The young lady raised her chin defiantly. "That I am tired of bowing and scraping to bring him up to scratch. I was bored to death with my father's incessant gabbling about plants, and I won't suffer a husband who is an equal bore. It is me or those cursed plants."
A stunned silence hung in the air for a moment. Without a word to the young lady, Wyn turned and bowed over Mrs. Ragsdale's hand. "Madam, I promised Amos that I should willingly look out for you and Miss Ragsdale. The lady has
92                               Lynn Collum
made it perfectly plain that she doesn't need or wish my assistance, but if you have need of any future advice, please feel free to consult with my man of business, Mr. Irwin, of Fleet Street." He leaned down and picked up a yellow tulip from the floor, the message to Amaryllis clear that he had made his choice.
Mrs. Ragsdale's face crumpled. "But—but I—"
"Good day, ladies."
It wasn't until Wyn was outside on the sidewalk that he realized a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had tried to stand by his promise to Amos, but he wouldn't force the Ragsdale ladies to endure his company when all they needed was a good solicitor. He could check with his man of business from time to time to make certain the ladies were taken care of, but he no longer felt the bonds of obligation that had once shackled him. Amaryllis had set him free with her own words.
He climbed into his carriage. Then a sudden thought hit him right in the gut, making him sit down hard. He could hardly breathe. Had Naomi cast a spell on Amaryllis to make her behave in such a manner? The very thought made him ill. Would he have to go back and apologize, to once again face a marriage of convenience? He shouted for the coachman to take him home at once. He would know the truth.

The door to the drawing room banged open. Lady Newlyn looked up to see her angry grandson's face and frowned. "What is wrong?"
"Where is Naomi? I would speak with Naomi." He paced in front of the lady, his agitation so great he couldn't stand still.
"She left at two this afternoon, went back home." The lady went back to her fashion magazine. Then she calmly added, "And she didn't use a broomstick."
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  93
Wyn halted, distracted from his purpose. "She told you."
"Actually, dear Naomi showed us. You should be happy, dear boy. Marion's room has been redone in the finest blue silk and without the least expense to you. How I envy her gift!"
The baron stared at his grandmother in amazement. "That is all you can say? A guest in your home tells you she's a witch and you envy her? Well, let me tell you that I think your dear Naomi has cast a spell on Amaryllis, madam."
"A spell? While she was traveling in a carriage? I very much doubt that." A twinkle appeared in the old woman's eyes. "Did Amaryllis change into a viper? I think a viper would suit that girl very well, don't you think?"
At that moment Marion came into the drawing room, still dressed in her wrapper. "What is happening?"
"Newlyn is looking for Naomi." The dowager winked at her granddaughter.
"Well, she's not here. She knew you disapproved of her gift, so she went home."
"But... I never said I wanted her to go. I—" He broke off what he had been going to say and walked to the window to gaze sightlessly out at the traffic. In truth, he didn't know what he thought about her and her gift. He hadn't expected to find Naomi gone. They had sorted nothing out.
Marion appeared at his side. "What did Amaryllis do?"
Wyn turned to his sister. For a moment he struggled to get his thoughts away from Naomi. "Amaryllis? Why, she behaved like a complete fishwife. It was like seeing a different person. Did you know she hates botany? Demanded I give up my study of plants!"
Lady Newlyn snorted. "Unmasked at last."
Marion clapped her hands and ran back to her grandmother. "It worked. She revealed her true self."
The baron watched the two women celebrate. Puzzled, he asked, "What are you talking about?"
The dowager rose and slid her arm protectively around
94                               Lynn Collum
Marion's shoulders. "Audric gave Marion directions on how to perform a truth spell to have your Miss Ragsdale be completely herself for the next twenty-four hours."
"Great heavens, you have involved yourself in this unholy business on the advice of a talking dog!" Wyn trembled, he was so angry that Naomi and her unnatural mongrel had drawn his sister into witchcraft.
To both the baron and dowager's amazement, Marion gamely stood her ground against her brother's wrath. "Unholy business! Did Naomi do anything but try to help those around her? You, a man of science, mustn't be mislead by old legends and superstition. We, none of us, had any notion that witches existed, but of one thing grandmother and I are certain. We would trust our lives to Naomi."
Lady Newlyn added her voice to Marion's. "You needn't look at your sister like that, my boy. It was a single spell which the dog ordered Marion never to repeat, and she gave her word. Besides, Naomi is gone from our lives, so there will be no more magic."
His grandmother's statement shook Wyn to the bone. Witch or not, Naomi was gone and not coming back. He ran his hands through his hair, aware there was now a hole in his heart. Yet perhaps it was for the best. He could not quite stomach the idea of a witch in his family.
He pointed at his sister to stress his meaning. "No more magic."
Without another word, he strode from the room and went straight to his conservatory. He stood at the head of the steps, overlooking his vast collection of plants, which often brought him such a spark of fascination and curiosity, but now there was no desire to work. Instead his gaze moved to the garden beyond the glass room and he remembered his moonlit encounter with Naomi, the feel of her in his arms, her lips beneath his. That night he'd tried to convince himself the kiss had meant nothing. He understood now his feelings of obligation to Amos had colored his thinking. With that burden lifted, he admitted to himself that Naomi had
THE BEWITCHED BARON                  95
touched him in a way no other woman had. Could he allow her to walk away from him even knowing what he did about her?
He pondered her sorcery. His sister had called it a gift. Was she right? Were old legends and superstitions clouding his judgment, making him reluctant to fully embrace Naomi? She had been kind and caring with the servants, patient with his sister, and truly interested in his work—unlike Amaryllis, who'd only pretended interest just to marry him. In every way, Naomi was what a man could want, and he did want her. So what if she possessed a power he would never understand? He was certain she would never do anything wrong with her powers.
But she had left without a word to him. Did she possess any tender feeling for him after the accusations he'd made? She had seen through Amaryllis, as had that strange dog who'd encouraged Marion to perform a spell. A smile suddenly lit his face. Audric was responsible for the true Amaryllis being revealed. Did that mean he wanted Wyn to marry Naomi? One couldn't have a better ally.
The butler entered the conservatory at that moment. "My lord, her ladyship wants to know if you are joining her for tea."
"No, Peterson, have my curricle at the front door in fifteen minutes. I am going to Wiltshire and bring Miss Clayton back."
"All will be delighted to hear the news, sir."
The baron hurried upstairs and informed his grandmother of his mission and, as the butler had predicted, the lady was ecstatic. Within another ten minutes, he was on the road to profess his love to a witch.

Audric slicked the last of the brown gravy from the plate as if he hadn't eaten in days. At last he sat on his haunches and eyed the other treats on the table. "Did you want that last slice of beef?"
96Lynn Collum
Iona shook her head as she glumly moved the food about on her plate. Behind her Bebe paced the floor, having given up on the pretense of dining.
Bebe tugged her cashmere shawl tighter as she drew near the open window. She peered out at Naomi, seated alone beside the pond. Then the old witch turned to glare at the dog. "How could you have allowed this to happen? Are you certain she loves this baron? This is dreadful."
The dog halted his eating for a moment. "Ladies, take it from me, from the moment those two met, I sensed..." Audric pondered the right word to use with two maiden aunts. "Attraction. By the time she met her first wizard, her heart was lost. Even Esmond took note."
"Nathaniel Esmond?" Iona asked, then sighed heavily. "He would have been perfect—magical and rich. Whatever shall we do, Bebe?"
"We must give her time for her broken heart to heal. She is young and needs time to master her magic. Perhaps in several years, she—"
"Ladies," Audric put his paws on the table, making him taller, and it helped to drive home his point. "Do not discount true love, even in a mortal."
Bebe snorted. "Kendra said much those same words—"
A knock sounded on the door. The terrier smiled and waggled his brows. "Like I always say, the heart wants what the heart wants."
Bebe opened the door to reveal a gentleman. Audric jumped down and hurried to greet him. "I knew you would come."
Wyn stared at the dog, bemused for a moment. "Forgive me. I'm still not quite used to conversing with a dog."
The aunts welcomed the baron into the cottage. After introductions, Bebe came straight to the point. "Why have you come, sir?"
"To ask Naomi to marry me."
Iona was all smiles, but Bebe was not so easily swayed. "And can you accept everything you now know about our
THE BEWITCHED BARON97
girl? Don't think to marry her if you are going to try to take away her birthright."
The gentleman's eyes widened for a moment. Then he smiled. "Someone recently demanded I give up something that meant a great deal to me. I would never ask that of Naomi."
Bebe and Iona exchanged a pleased look. Iona rose from the table and came to take the gentleman's hand. "Then you have our blessing, if Naomi will have you."
He looked around, and Audric nodded with his head toward the rear door. "She's at the pond."
As the baron departed through the door, the dog looked at Bebe and asked, "Have you any more of those little macaroons that I had last time I visited?"

Naomi tossed a stone into the pond and watched as the ripples moved outward. She hoped that everything went well with Marion and Charlie, but when she thought about the Longs, her thoughts were drawn to the baron, and at the moment that was too painful.
Her aunts had been understanding about her sudden return, but she still felt guilty. They wanted a wizard, and she had fallen for a man who clearly was appalled by her magic. What was she to do now? Perhaps her heart wouldn't ache so much once she heard that Wyndom had married Miss Ragsdale. That would surely put an end to thoughts of the baron.
She lifted the magic book she'd pulled from the shelf and looked at the first spell on the page. Magic would help fill her time until the pain lessened. She read the words on the page. "Susto flora."
The bushes round the pond suddenly began to grow and bloom. White morning glories, blue foxglove, and pink wild roses unfolded to display a burst of color.
"It's beautiful," a voice spoke softly behind her.
Naomi started to her feet, the book tumbling to the ground.  She found herself facing the last person she would expect here in Wiltshire. "Lord Newlyn, why have you come?" Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears she was certain he could hear it.
He stepped up to her and took her hands. "To ask you to forgive a complete fool and to tell you I love you."
"What about Miss Ragsdale?"
He grinned "She doesn't really like me or my plants, you know. Too much like her father, I believe."
Naomi frowned. "She told you that?"
"After Marion cast a truth spell on her."
Naomi's eyes widened and she shook her head. "But I swear I never told her—"
"I know. Audric gave it to her and made her promise never to do magic again."
"Audric." She said his name softly, then smiled. "One would never know, but he is quite the romantic. He knew I loved you even before I did."
"A dog, a romantic?" Doubt was etched on the gentleman's face.
"Actually, he's my cousin, under the spell of a powerful wizard." She watched the changing expression on Wyndom's face. Then the gentleman laughed.
"I hope that means he won't be living with us. It comes to me that he is rather too fond of my wine." He explained about the missing wine. As she laughed, he drew her to him and kissed her soundly. After several minutes, he drew back and asked, "But enough about him and magic. You haven't said. Will you marry me?"
For a moment, her doubts resurfaced. "I am a witch, and being your wife won't change that. Are you certain you fully understand? My parents' marriage proved to be an unhappy union because of my mother's magic. He never understood the nature of our power."
The baron placed his hands on either side of her face, tilting it upward. "Perhaps I am bewitched, and I should worry about your powers, but I cannot because I know that you are good and your magic will reflect mat goodness. I love you and want you to be my wife."
A smile lit Naomi's face. "Oh, my wonderfully bewitched baron, I do love you, and I will marry you." With that she surrendered to the arms of the man she loved and who loved her, magic and all.
THE END