Holiday Magick Read Online Free PDF Page B

of paper lace and pastel cherubs. And the quotation! An inaccurate quote from one of Shakespeare’s sonnets, rendered in bad calligraphy. As if she were no more than a softheaded scullery maid. She imagined that Mr. Childress, being an unmarried man of somewhat advanced years, had mistakenly thought that such overly elaborate creations and trite sentiments would appeal to a girl thirty years his junior. As Esther had held the valentine, awkwardly thanking Mr. Childress, she had been horrified to discover that the card was spelled. Indeed, only Elisabeta’s instruction, and the gloves she was wearing that winter day, had kept her from becoming overtaken with desire for the wrinkly old fool. Since she had no idea of how to weave a counterspell, she threw the offending bit of paper in the back of her closet, heretofore a haven of unfashionable boots and mismatched gloves.
    Neither Mr. Childress nor Esther’s father had any reason to suspect she was familiar with charms and the like. She’d learned the basics of charming while away at boarding school, from her roommate, Elisabeta. Essie had always suspected Elisabeta of being a gypsy, what with her dark complexion and flowing, colorful clothes, but she had always spoken proper English with perfect diction. In every aspect, from needlepoint to table manners, Elisabeta seemed to be a perfect, modern lady.
    Until the lights were extinguished at night, that is. Once the hall matrons were soundly asleep, a select few girls crept into Esther and Elisabeta’s room, and watched breathlessly as the dark beauty lit candles (they had eschewed incense after the time Mrs. Alberton had woken in a fright and rung the fire bell) and uttered incantations in Latin and Greek. After they’d been suitably impressed by Elisabeta’s skills, she had consented to teach them.
    The lessons began with divination; Esther had hoped for an elegant crystal ball, but Elisabeta had only produced a stack of well-worn cards. She claimed they had been passed down from her great-grandmother, who had made her living traveling around in a veiled cart, telling fortunes. Esther had been careful not to touch the dirty things. In due time, Elisabeta taught them of herbs, and the girls had been amazed to learn the many uses of the dried bits, such as basil, cinnamon, lavender, and violet, kept in everyone’s pantries.
    â€œAnd oak leaves,” added Elisabeta, the dark fringe of her lashes veiling her eyes. “For when you desire your man but he is somewhat…lacking.” The girls had had no idea what that meant, but had taken copious notes, nonetheless.
    Esther had soon grown adept at creating charms, so much so that, when Elisabeta was expelled (fluttering your eyelashes at your teacher is not advised, especially when his wife is the headmistress), the other girls had naturally turned to her. In no time she had found herself mixing herbs for every purpose under the sun, from removing warts to improving grades.
    Esther had retained her reputation as one adept in the old ways after she had left school, but thankfully her father didn’t listen to such women’s talk. Instead, he assumed his daughter always bought herbs and flowers to use in the kitchen or to decorate the home. Certainly, his own flesh and blood would never engage in such scandalous behavior.
    When Jessamine had first approached Esther for a love spell, she had naturally agreed, though the manner of the spell had rendered her somewhat perplexed. In due time, Esther had remembered the valentine that had so offended, and decided that a similar approach was in order for Edward. Her father had agreed to order lace doilies and crepe paper, and in no time, Esther had constructed a truly hideous, yet utterly fashionable, valentine.
    However, when it came time to spell the valentine, Esther again found herself stumped. First, she had tried to spell the entire card, but smoke from the incense had quickly discolored the