Her mother’s jade green eyes held the glare of someone who was
serious. Her hands were also fisted on her petite hips. Why was her
mother so concerned with what she was wearing? It wasn’t too
bad.
“
What are you going to do about it?” her mother
asked.
“
Oh, Mother, I’m too hot,” she argued, but the determination in
her voice was already faltering. The look on her mother’s face
making it so she couldn’t argue.
Cora could hear her grandmother moving in the other room. She
hoped she would come to her rescue. Only Alivia Device could
control her daughter’s obsessive nature regarding this type of
thing.
“
I do not care how hot it is, you cannot meet with Jack dressed
as inappropriately as this.”
Cora shook her head in frustration but her words of
retaliation remained tucked away in her head. She didn’t look as
bad as her mother often liked to exaggerate. Plus, it was close to
thirty degrees outside. She couldn’t understand why her mother
insisted she wore the long dresses with the thick material that
hung heavily around her waist. She could wear her thin, linen
dresses but they were only for wear around the home, away from
other people’s eyes, according to her mother.
“
My dress isn’t too bad,” she argued, again. Any other response
refused to form on her tongue.
She gathered her element and felt her power expand allowing a
little of it to move around her body. Sighing, she was glad she was
allowed to have her hair pulled into a high ponytail. At least that
was one thing her mother had permitted. If her hair had to remain
down it was sure to make her too hot. It was already long when tied
up, the tips of it touching just above the bottom on her back. She
felt cool air caress her clammy neck.
“
Did you just use your element?” Her mother eyed her
suspiciously.
“
Yes, it’s too warm,” she said trying to maintain eye contact
but failing.
Her mother was by far the scariest witch in this village. This
was why her mother was the High Priestess. As well as being caring,
funny and loyal, her mother was law abiding, strict and damn right
scary.
“
You know the Corenthio Coven don’t allow this.”
“
I know,” she muttered. Cora knew and remembered well enough
what the Corenthio Coven thought about the use of magic, and also
what they do to people who use their element
inappropriately.
The Corenthio Coven weren’t concerned with little things like
whether you have actually used magic or not. If there was a rumour,
they were going to act on it and pay you a visit. She didn’t want a
repeat visit any time soon.
“
I didn’t use my magic in front of others, only
you.”
“
That is quite true,” her mother said as a smile touched her
full, peach lips.
“
So, you can’t be mad, grandmother uses her element all the
time in the cottage.”
“
That she does... but I just want to make you aware, you know
the rules, Cora.”
“
I know...does that mean I’m forgiven?”
Her mother laughed. “Maybe for the use of your element but the
damage done to the dress I bought you, that is something different
entirely.”
“
It isn’t damaged... it is altered...slightly...”
Her mother looked down at her dress in disbelief. The once
floor length dress ruffled insanely around her waist. Layers of
gold shimmered like water under the midday sun. The dress was a
lovely colour, despite the fact that it absorbed the day’s heat
against her already hot skin. She didn’t want to wear such a thing
and asked herself, as she often did these days, when the day would
come for women to wear trousers like all men?
Her mother had forced her to wear this dress. Well, she was
exaggerating a little; her mother had suggested that the dress
would be nice as it complimented her eyes. Usually, when her mother
said those things, she wanted her to wear the dress. So by default,
because her mother had told her the dress would look nice, using
her element was a must in this heat. Technically, this was all her
mother’s fault. Cora was quite good at shifting the blame onto
someone else. Well, apart from the damage done to the dress which
was her doing. Unfortunately she couldn’t wheedle her way out of
that one.
The damage her mother spoke of... the dress had been cut to
just below her knees. Ankles were not permitted to be on show by a
lady but, whilst on their land, what did it matter? The many layers
of net taffeta had been discarded. No one, other than women, could
understand how much that material itched in this hot weather. It
felt like you’d walked through a bed of nettles and were suffering
with the annoying rash. As soon as the material had been cut, her
legs sighed with gratitude upon the touch of the fresh
air.
“
Cora, this is the fifth dress you have ruined over the course
of the month. You do realise that you will have to mend each and
every one of them?”
“
Grandmother can do it; it takes her seconds with the wave of a
hand...” Cora argued.
“
Our magic is not to be used for such petty things, you know
this. Now you must change, you-”
“
Leave her, Alizon, I remember when you used to wear such
things,” her grandmother, Alivia, spoke from the doorway. She’d
finally come to save her.
Her grandmother’s olive eyes warmed with mischief. Cora was so
thankful she’d made an appearance. With a slight nod of her head
she gave Cora permission to leave the cottage, and
quickly.
Slipping out into the sunshine, she heard her grandfather say,
“Yes, and I remember telling you how inappropriate it was at the
time.”
The sound of her mother’s laughter followed her as she ran,
rather unladylike, along the dry dirt track to Jack’s cottage which
sat a little more than a stone’s throw away from her
own.
She found Eli nearest to the cottage labouring over the
potatoes that he was sure to sell at the village market. He was
quite the entrepreneur. Cora’s family, and Jack’s for that matter,
laboured over their land so they could sell the produce. Even
though neither of their families needed the money to live, her
grandfather often said it created character.
“
Hello, young Cora, how are you?” he said, stretching his back
to release the kinks from his work. His eyes looked at her dress,
he shook his head rather than ask for an explanation. Eli knew her
well enough not to asking.
“
I’m fine, thank you, how is Anne?” she asked as she came to
stand next to Eli.
The shirt he wore had once been white, dust and dirt clung to
it after a hard morning of manual labour. His trousers were tucked
up around his legs due to the heat; she could see already that he
was sweating. His green eyes swirled with emotion as he looked at
her. Cora could see how much Anne’s illness affected him, like it
affected them all.
“
She’s well. She’s having a good day today. I do believe that
she gains strength with each passing day.”
Cora hoped he was right.
Anne had been taken ill rather suddenly but Tabitha and her
mother believed they could help. Cora knew that Tabitha was one of
the best potion mixers amongst the witch community. Even with their
combined knowledge and ability, they hadn’t been able to help Anne.
Her disease had dumbfounded everyone.
Usually witches didn’t pick up the diseases that were rife
among the commoners. It had something to do with their powers,
almost like it provided better immunity. Anne’s illness has
seriously affected her which had made everyone nervous. Initially
her mother thought that Anne’s power, which was the ability to
produce audible inundation, meaning she could force noise into a
person’s head, was diminishing due to her illness but it was still
strong. Anne was still able to bring Eli to his knees from the
screams she could force into his mind. It was making them question
what could have struck Anne so terribly. Was it some new stain of
virus that even witches couldn’t overcome?
When the healer, Mr Thomas, had come they thought things would
get better. Still her mother was concerned, she’d muttered
continuously about their use of magic. If the Corenthio Coven had
allowed the use of magic in this instance, Anne would be better.
There was only so much you could do with potions.
“
I’m glad to hear that, Eli, send my love to her when you see
her.”
“
I will, thank you.”
“
Where-”
“
He’s at the far end of the field,” Eli interjected with a
smile on his face.
“
Thanks!” she called as she ran across the field, careful to
avoid any growing vegetables and fruit that were yet to be picked.
She wouldn’t want to be the cause for the Whittle family receiving
less money at the market.
As she neared the peak of the hill, she came to a stop. The
heat of the day causing her to gasp; the corset that restricted the
movement of her ribs also didn’t help. She put her hands on her
hips and watched him work.
He too wore a once white shirt, the sleeves of it rolled to
his elbows as were his trousers to his knees. His skin was brown
from the constant work under the burning sun. She loved that the
warmth of his skin brought out the intensity in his brown eyes. Did
he know that she lost herself in his eyes? He hadn’t seen her as he
continued working the horse across the field.
She realised, as she stood admiring him, that his hair was
growing; the tips of it curling near his ears. She felt her heart
stutter as she envisioned pushing her hand through it, enjoying the
feel of it sliding around her fingers. She could see the way his
taut muscles strained against the shirt as the hard labour of
working the plough horse pushed him. Her mouth went dry. It was at
that moment Jack decided to look across to her, almost like he had
sensed her presence.
She stood where she was, watching the smile expand on his
face, one that forced the dimples in his cheeks to pop. Shaking
herself out of her day dream, she ran down the field towards
him.
“
What have you done to your dress?” he asked laughing as his
eyes moved from head to foot.
Now
she felt underdressed. Perhaps
this was what her mother was referring too? She followed the trail
of his eyes. “I was too warm,” she replied breathlessly.
She wasn’t breathless because of the running. Jack had a way
with her heart. It stuttered uncontrollably just at the thought of
his name. She felt the heat in her belly fizz and fly around as his
eyes latched onto hers.
“
I can imagine your mother was none too happy about yet another
dress being ruined?”
She brushed her hands over the remainder of the dress and
looked down. “It isn’t too bad.” That must be her saying of the day
because she’d already used it too much
“
No, it looks like all the others. Still, she can’t be best
pleased.”
“
No, but she can’t stay mad at me for long,” she said with a
sly smile.
“
No one can stay mad at you for long,” Jack agreed as his eyes
bore into hers.
She found herself caught in his stare. She watched him shake
his head trying to collect his thoughts which had probably
scattered like her own.
“
Why don’t you use one of your old dresses instead of damaging
a new one?”
“
Mother won’t let me wear them again until I have mended them,”
she said with a pout.
“
Well, I’m sure Alivia will do it and it won’t take long if she
did.”
“
I’ve tried that approach. Plus, I like the dresses when I’ve
altered them.”
She looked down at the dress. It wasn’t too bad, maybe she was
showing a little more leg than usual, maybe the dress had ripped a
little higher in her heat infuriated haste. She couldn’t do
anything about it now.
She looked up and caught Jack also gazing at her legs. He
blinked like he’d realised what he was doing and then they moved
and found her eyes. The deep chocolate of them swirled as they
roamed her face. She felt heat rush over her skin. She stepped a
little closer as his eyes came to rest on her lips, the action
making her bite her lower lip nervously.
“
You shouldn’t do that,” Jack whispered as his finger brushed
gently against her arms, the motion moving her closer to his
body.
“
Do what?” she asked, knowing exactly what she was doing and
what reaction it would induce from him. She loved his
reaction.
They’d had moments like this before. The almost moments where
his fingers would brush up against her skin making it feel like it
was on fire. Where his body would move into hers stalling the
breath in her lungs as the fear and excitement of feeling his lips
on hers became too much. They’d been almost moments for a reason,
because they’d always been interrupted.
Never has Jack done this whilst in the open. They feared what
people may say if they were caught and unmarried. It was frowned
upon. She sensed his need spike, could sense the playful tone was
over. She knew Jack like the back of her hand. She could decipher
what every look on his face meant without words. This look told her
he was finished with the playfulness. She saw the way his eyes
moved to her lips like he’d already devoured them. She felt her
knees go weak.