“My family has had the privilege of overseeing this land for centuries,” he said, drawing out the words slowly and carefully. “I’m proud to carry on the tradition.”
“What other benefits does it provide? Aside from offering people other than yourself as part of the buffet?” Callan seemed intent on pressing the earl’s buttons now, which I didn’t appreciate. I had work to do and a distressed earl would only make my job more difficult, not that Callan cared. He was only here because Maeron was nosy and he had nothing better to do with his unfettered time.
“Mind your tongue when you’re a guest in my home,” a red-faced Theodore sputtered. “I’m a member of the nobility and I deserve respect even from a vampire.”
My gaze swept the crumbling interior. It seemed strange to cling to a title that served no purpose. Theodore was clawing at empty air and expecting to find a gilded rope swinging there just for him.
Callan eased back against his chair. “Apologies. I meant no disrespect.”
“Apologies, my lord,” Theodore said.
Hesitation flickered in Callan’s eyes. It was obvious the prince in him wanted to refuse and display his peacock feathers. I clenched my hands into fists as I waited to see how he would respond. The earl would be looking at a second missing wall if he wasn’t careful, not that he had a clue as to Callan’s real identity.
“Apologies, my lord,” Callan said with a polite smile.
I relaxed. Crisis averted.
An older woman wandered into the study in a white nightgown that reached her bony ankles. Her complexion was a shade paler than Theodore’s and her eyes had the glazed look of someone who’d seen more in her lifetime than her mind could process.
Theodore smiled at the sight of her. “Madeline, my dear. You’re up. How splendid.”
Neither husband nor wife seemed remotely bothered by her attire.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t realize we were entertaining guests.”
Callan and I stood to greet her.
“London Hayes, Knight of Boudica,” I said, and shook her hand. Her fingers were limp in my hand. “This is my associate, Mr. Lincoln.”
Madeline smiled up at Callan, the slight tinge of pink returning to her cheeks. “How lucky for you to travel with someone so…clearly capable.”
I bit back a smile.
The compliment sailed right over her husband’s head. “I would love to travel,” Theodore said. “If only we didn’t have so many responsibilities anchoring us here.”
If you couldn’t afford to repair your wall or fix your water supply, a seaside adventure in Cornwall was likely out of the question.
“I don’t suppose you’d be any good with repairs to our water supply,” Madeline said, keeping her gaze pinned on Callan. She seemed to mistake him for a white knight to the rescue.
“Is there no one local?” Callan asked.
Madeline scowled. “There’s a witch with elemental powers who could easily remedy the situation but she refuses to help. Selfish cow.”
“Now, dearest,” Theodore soothed her. “You know why Brumhilda has no interest in helping this estate.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? Your local witch is called Brumhilda?” It sounded like a name straight out of a fairytale, the kind of name a witch was given by someone who’d never met a real one.
Madeline crossed her arms and glared at her husband. “She ought to let bygones be bygones.”
Now I was too curious to let it go. “What happened?”
“We insulted her,” Theodore said simply.
I snorted. “How? You didn’t invite her to your baby’s christening?”
Theodore tipped back his cup and finished the remaining droplets of tea. “Madeline declined to purchase certain beauty products.”
“She makes them herself,” Madeline added. “I don’t like the idea of using a lotion on my skin that she mixed in her cauldron.” She shivered. “What if she put something in it that allowed her to control me? What if she uses magical face cream to suck out people’s souls?”
Callan and I exchanged amused glances. “She’s a witch, not a demon,” I said.
“I mean no disrespect to witches,” Madeline said. “It’s just that Brumhilda is a bit…strange. And pushy.” Madeline flapped her slender arms. “I have a roof caving in and a missing wall. Do I seem like someone in need of lip liner?”
I shrugged. “If that’s how she earns her living.”
“She could earn a living by using her elemental powers to repair our water supply,” Madeline said.
I debated whether to offer to repair it myself. I might be able to manage it. Then again, it seemed smarter to mend the broken fence between the two parties. The Bowmans had a better chance of survival with an elemental witch on their side.
“Why don’t I speak to Brumhilda on your behalf?” I offered. If the witch refused, then I’d see if I could use my own magic. Callan already knew about my water magic thanks to a tussle with a selkie in Hyde Park, so there was no need to hide it from him.
“You would do that?” Madeline asked.
“Yes. In return, I’d like a list of everyone who came here to help you after the storm.”
A mild chuckle followed the request. “I couldn’t possibly tell you that,” Theodore said. “I didn’t pay attention.”
“But it’s possible someone else in the household did. Grimsby, maybe?”
“You’re welcome to ask him.” His brow furrowed. “What’s this got to do with berserkers?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I said truthfully. “I’m simply collecting information.”
“For goodness sake, she’s going to speak to the witch. Give her whatever she needs,” Madeline insisted.
Theodore nodded. “Of course, my love.”
“You can find Brumhilda in a cottage two miles south of here as the crow flies,” Madeline said.
I resumed a standing position, grateful to give my backside a rest from the hard surface. “Thank you. Before we go, I’d also like to take a look at the wall from the outside if you don’t mind.”
Theodore motioned to the doorway. “Be my guest. Just don’t abscond with any supplies like some of the hooligans we’ve chased off the property. We need every rock we have.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’ll have Grimsby meet you outside with a list,” Theodore said.
Callan and I left the house unescorted and wandered around to the gaping wall.
“Interesting family,” he remarked.
“Dragonflies in amber,” I said. The Bowmans were stuck in a life that no longer existed.
Callan tossed a wayward rock aside. “Quite a storm they had.”
I observed the pile of rocks that now served as the fourth wall. “No kidding.”
“Too bad these aren’t all elemental stones,” Callan joked. “Then they wouldn’t have to deal with Brumhilda. They could repair the water supply. The wall. Everything.”
I started to laugh but the sound died in my throat.
Callan noticed my mixed reaction. “What is it?”
I picked up the nearest stone and hefted it in my hand. “What if that’s what we’re dealing with?”
“It obviously isn’t. The elemental stone only controls the elements, not shapeshifting. Besides, it’s safe at the Tower with the immortality stone.”