Persuaded to Love: A Kendawyn Paranormal Regency by Amanda A. Allen

Author:Amanda A. Allen [Allen, Amanda A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Raining Ink Publishing
Published: 2016-11-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“Have you forgiven me yet?” Alice’s voice interrupted Venetia’s careful attitude of not thinking. But she didn’t open her eyes as Alice made her way into the sitting room where Antigone and Venetia were lounging. “And what are you doing there, like that? Are you ill?”

“Waiting for you,” Antigone said. “Did you bring your spouse or are we still safe?”

“I left him, but…”

“He wants to come,” Venetia sighed. She felt tired in her bones. The dreams had been too intense for too long now. Even in the light of day, it seemed that the remnants of the nightmares lingered at the edge of her vision. She was sitting directly in a ray of the sun with her mind focused on happy things—when she first realized she adored Uncle Bradford, the time she, Antigone, and Alice had spent a whole afternoon paddling around the river that ran through Arathe-By-The-Sea, laughing and dreaming. The first time she’d gone for a long ride alone. The first time a rose had bloomed at her touch.

Alice shifted in her seat before she said, “I might have led him to believe that I was worried about the baby. So, he might be a little…anxious.”

Venetia finally cracked her eyelids and said, “I suppose since you are in love with him, we won’t mind him so much. I’m not feeling charitable towards very many people right now.”

“She’s having nightmares.” Antigone’s words were stark, and they made Venetia want to shift in her seat, but her friends were already worried. She felt their emotions—not that she was empathic, but she could feel their focused gazes and knew them well enough to know what they were thinking, worrying—remembering.

Venetia frowned but said nothing. She would not have told Alice who was expecting—growing a baby, she didn’t need her mind consumed by worries for Venetia. A moment later, Alice’s hand was on Venetia’s brow.

“You’re not hot.”

“It’s nightmares not the influenza.” Venetia’s voice was sarcastic but soft.

“What do you need?”

And there it was, Venetia thought, the concern that would be as haunting as the dreams. The constant worry. The attempts to entice her appetite with food or sweets. The over-attention, it would drive Venetia mad.

“Nothing,” Venetia said.

“You’re pale,” Alice declared. “She’s pale.”

The second comment was directed to Antigone, completely bypassing Venetia. It would take only moments for them to unite and try to decide for her what she needed.

Venetia’s eyes snapped open. She shook her head in denial of the two who hadn’t even noticed that she was sitting forward shooting daggers at both of them with her eyes.

Before they could take over, she said, “I want to dig my fingers into soil, feel the magic flowing through the roots, and work on my magecraft until I am so tired my eyes burn and then, perhaps, sleep in the gardens.”

“When do the Exhibition Gardens open?” Antigone demanded of Alice as if she would know. It was an annual event for them to come and see what the other mages who’d been working with plants had been doing.

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