worse.
“Tea?” he asked, reaching for the cups in the cupboard.
I can’t do this.
“Um…” She backed toward the door leading to her room. “Actually, I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll just go to bed.”
She tried not to see the surprise or acknowledge the disappointment that shadowed his face as she jerked the door open.
“Okay—”
Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by the sound of the door closing behind her.
Chapter Seventeen
He’s going to figure it out.
She’d given too much away in those moments of both terror and heartbreak, thinking that he could kill her.
He had yet to question her, but he was too sharp not to figure out eventually that her level of fear made no sense unless she was harboring a secret that might put him in a position to have to punish her. Not to mention the girls’ words.
Meanwhile the girls were stuck figuring out what their powers involved. The three discussed it endlessly.
“What if we’re predicting people who meet each other?” Lachlyn wondered now.
Rowan glanced up from the green peppers she was stuffing for dinner. All three girls sat around the heavy wood kitchen table, halfheartedly practicing their magic.
“That would be dumb.” Atleigh rolled her eyes. “And Delilah said we’re not fates, so we’re not predicting anything.”
“We could be Seers,” Lachlyn insisted.
“Yeah?” Chloe scoffed. “Predicting how a woman sets up a business she already has? Dad said she formed the business before we predicted anything.”
Rowan silently agreed. That would be a waste of a Seer.
“Girls.” As soon as she had their attention, Rowan pointed at their plants.
“This is so boring,” Atleigh whined.
Persephone, displeased with their progress, had assigned them extra homework on top of what they had for school. More plant growing. Today the girls were making philodendrons sprout vines. Their aunt had assigned a specific length as a goal.
“This is going to take forever,” Chloe grumbled.
No argument there. Why their aunt insisted on training them like witches half their ages, she had no idea. Rowan cocked her head, eyeing the plants. Maybe she could spice things up without going against the rules. “Give me a second to finish these. Then I’ll show you a game.”
“We can’t play a game.” Atleigh waved at her project. “We have to grow stuff.”
Rowan allowed herself a delicate snort. “I’m well aware you can all grow those plants without a second thought.”
The three froze and exchanged a glance. Rowan hid her small smile as she continued to prepare dinner.
“Aunt Persephone says we’re not ready.”
And who was Rowan, a lowly magic-lacking nanny, to say otherwise? “Have you told her you can do more? Or tried to show her?” She still hadn’t figured out why the girls held back during lessons.
“Yes.” Chloe scowled. “We got in trouble for trying to do too much, too soon, and not following her instructions.”
Not for the first time, Rowan wondered what the other woman’s play was. No way could she be a licensed instructor and have missed the girls’ natural talents. Best guess, Persephone was slowing them down in order to ensure extra time with Grey, which would explain the vague stare of suspicion aimed Rowan’s way every time she met the woman.
“What about your dad? Have you told him you can handle more?”
Again, exchanged glances told her they hadn’t shared this with Greyson.
“He’ll listen to Aunt Persephone. Not us,” Atleigh said. Yup. Remembering this age, she probably wouldn’t have told her dad, either. Or Tanya, as the case might be. Grey’s job also kept him away. Not that he’d been away much since she’d arrived, but the girls alluded to it enough. Maybe a deeper level of trust needed to be established?
“I think you’d be surprised.” Rowan chewed at her lower lip. How could she help them with that?
At their skeptical looks, she shrugged. “It’s up to you, but you won’t know for sure unless you try.” She turned back to her dinner preparations and let them stew on that a moment. “Back to the plants. Since you’re required to practice, maybe we can make it fun.”
She topped the peppers off with fresh grated cheese, popped them in the oven, and set the timer before turning to face the girls. “Are you interested?”
“I guess,” Lachlyn muttered, flicking the leaf of her plant with a finger.
“Right. Outside then. Bring your plants.”
They followed her to the flat space of land behind the house before the tree line where the mountain inclined. Rowan inhaled appreciatively. Having grown up most of her life on the coast of Scotland, she