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“Not as intended, no. However, I would not say that things went badly either. One could say that the outcome of my expedition remains to be seen.” And as he spoke, he could not deny that a part of him hoped the outcome would be favorable. The truth was, he had not felt as entertained or as alive in many, many years as he had with her.

Six

The third day finally arrived. Somehow, it was the gloomiest day of the entire month. The sky was covered with heavy clouds, casting a gray glow upon the little cottage. Even so, Marina could not have been happier. For even though the duke’s deadline had arrived, her mother and little sister had too.

When their carriage appeared, Marina hurried to the door, only for Luna to dart past her like a creature possessed. The cat raced toward Sophia, her black tail held proudly in the air, and began winding herself around her skirts before the poor girl had even finished stepping down.

“Well, look at you,” Sophia called, cuddling Luna against her chest with an amused smile. “Have you been waiting all this time for me, you dreadful little traitor?”

Luna answered with a pleased purr, burying her face against Sophia’s shoulder.

“I shall never understand how you became her chosen person,” Marina complained, pretending to be wounded by the betrayal. “She completely disappeared when Harper called on me a few days ago. And then again when my other visitor appeared. Yet the moment you arrive, she behaves as though she has been abandoned for ten years.”

Sophia laughed, her eyes sparkling with affection as she stroked Luna’s head. “Perhaps she has finally developed good taste,” she teased.

Marina opened her mouth to answer, but her mother spoke first.

“Another visitor?” their mother asked, turning toward Marina. “Who was it?”

Marina sighed. “Oh, excellent. I write to you in great distress, and rather than inquiring after my welfare, you wish to know who has been visiting me.”

“My dear, your letter asked me to come immediately and explained the most bizarre tale I could not quite understand,” Lady Dashwood replied. “I believe I am entitled to a little curiosity.”

“And I should like to know who has been brave enough to visit the Christmas Witch,” Sophia added.

“You are both exceedingly tiresome. Come inside, and I shall explain everything.”

They had almost reached the cottage when Sophia stopped beside the glasshouse.

“Marina, what on earth is that?”

Marina followed her sister’s gaze to the words scrawled across one of the glass panes. The letters were uneven, and whoever had written them had clearly possessed more enthusiasm than skill.

BEWAR OF THE WICH.

Sophia stared for a moment before bursting into laughter. “They might at least have learned how to spell witch before accusing you of being one.”

“I thought the same,” Marina replied. “Though I must give them credit for their persistence. That is the third warning this month.”

“And you simply allow them to do this?”

“What would you have me do? Chase them down the lane with a broom? That would hardly improve matters.”

“It would certainly make their stories more interesting.”

Sophia was still smiling when she noticed a small basket beneath the shelter of the porch. “Are those apples?”

“Yes. I kept some from the autumn harvest in the storeroom.”

“And why are they out here?”

“For the children, of course.”

Sophia looked from the basket to the warning on the glasshouse. “You mean the same children who have been calling you a witch?”

“They are perfectly good apples, Sophia. I see no reason to let them spoil merely because the children have dreadful manners.”

“You are far too forgiving.”