“I promised my mother.”
His brows drew together. She expelled a breath and decided to explain. He already knew her darkest secret. There wasn’t anything else for her to hide. It might even make him understand how unprepared she was to deal with his problem.
“She made me promise on her deathbed that no matter what occurred, I would never use magic or reveal to anyone that I was even capable of it. Sometimes things happen around me, things I can’t control. I have to be vigilant.”
“And that’s why you stopped your magic lessons? Because of your mother’s passing?”
“No, that happened earlier. I had been studying the craft with my grandmother when my aunt Moira died. My mother demanded that all lessons stop. She forbade all talk of magic. I was heartbroken, but there was nothing I could do, not after my father took her side.”
“How did your aunt die?”
Isobel wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m not sure, but I know she used her magic to hurt someone. The man she was supposed to marry. He’d decided to marry someone else because they had a larger dowry and she was heartbroken...and then angry. She decided to take revenge.”
“Did she kill him?”
“I don’t think so, but he was hurt—maimed. My aunt had exposed herself with that act. I’m not sure how she actually died, but when word of the scandal reached us, the village’s attitude changed. The long years my grandmother had spent as healer in the community didn’t matter. We were tainted. My mother publicly broke with my grandmother so she and I wouldn’t be ostracized. The effort was only partially successful. Not everyone was cruel, but enough of them were. My father’s position as a gentleman farmer helped shield us from the worst of it, but I still remember how they treated us.”
She didn’t mention the likelihood that her aunt had died after being hunted down by the man’s relatives. It wasn’t something she liked to dwell on. Enough time was spent on it in her nightmares.
“Did anyone try to hurt you?” he asked, returning her back to the here and now.
Her lips pursed. “A few times. Some of the village boys chased me and threw rocks, but it passed after my father spoke to their fathers.”
Matteo was frowning, but his voice was soft. “Your father sounds like a good man.”
The pang in her chest made it hard to breathe. “He was,” she whispered.
“And your grandmother? Did you ever see her again?”
Isobel nodded. “I would sneak over to see her. But she wouldn’t teach me any more magic. Grandmother Helen was heartbroken by my aunt’s death, and she respected my mother and father’s decision. I pleaded with her to change her mind, but she never did.” She paused and turned to him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he said.
“How did this happen to you? Who did you cross?”
He scowled at the muddy road. “What do you mean?”
“Who cursed you?”
He stopped walking. “Isabella, no one did this to me.”
She choked on air, coughing in surprise. “Then did you do this to yourself? Are...are you a student of the occult?”
“Of course not! I just woke up one day like this.”
Her brows rose. “No one simply wakes up cursed! You must have done something to upset or hurt someone. Something terrible.”
“I swear to you no one did this to me,” Matteo said, gesturing with his hands in that Italian manner she’d learned to recognize in the past few weeks. “There was no reason. I’ve never hurt anyone—not before this. It’s unimaginable.”
His words rang with sincerity.
Isobel shook her head, passing a hand over her eyes. “I don’t know how to say this more clearly. There is simply no way you weren’t targeted for this—this punishment. The spell afflicting you is pernicious and intricate. Someone spent a lot of time and effort crafting this spell. It can’t have been done randomly.”
The expression on Matteo’s face was enough to stop her speech. He looked devastated.
“But I haven’t done anything. Nothing that would warrant this. My life has been very structured, almost boring at times, which is why I enjoyed traveling.” He stopped walking. “Is it possible I triggered a curse during my last voyage?”
“Not as likely. Not if you’d been home for weeks before it started.”
He hung his head. “So you think it was someone from Santa Fiora?”
Isobel shrugged. “Do you suspect anyone?”
“No. I’ve tried to be a gentleman and a good son. I can’t imagine that anyone bears this sort of ill will towards me.”
“What about a scorned lover or someone jealous of you?”
He ran a hand through his neat hair, mussing it thoroughly. “I can’t speak towards jealousy. I’m privileged and possess a fortune, but so do many other men. That’s no reason to do this to me. As for former lovers, no.”