Page 35 of Never Been Witched (Starfall Point #3)

Alice

Usually, Alice hated it when a ghost sidled into her field of vision, all sneaky and silent, waiting to be seen. It was unnerving, like looking down to see a spider on your arm. But a few nights later, she was thrilled to see Victoria floating into the corner of her visual field.

She itched to be back in the shop, searching for Victoria’s ring, but it was her day off.

She didn’t know what it all meant. Samuel’s anger as he was moving through the hotel—it was laced with something darker, sadder.

But it had to mean something, that Victoria was backing away from the spot where Samuel was standing, that Samuel had seethed so completely when looking at that wine cellar.

Had he killed Victoria in there? Or tried to, before she fled?

It was almost too horrible to contemplate.

Still, it was a balm, being back in Shaddow House, sipping chamomile tea in the sunlit atrium while Eloise splashed in her fountain. Riley wasn’t hovering, exactly, but she’d made it clear that she preferred to stay where she could see Alice, knowing Alice was back where she belonged.

Alice had been a fool, trying to stay away, and she knew part of her had been punishing herself even while the people around her assured her she didn’t deserve it. She probably would benefit from some therapy.

For now, she was spending time with Riley, reading up on a “repel” spell.

It was a combination of intent and hand motions that didn’t forcibly move ghosts, but made the witch’s space distinctly uncomfortable for the dead.

To support Alice’s reconnection to the coven, Collin was keeping to the hotel, supervising the construction.

The suite floor was coming close to having habitable rooms ready, including the Cowslip Suite and its fairy tub.

That only left a few hundred more rooms to do.

Still, progress was progress.

Alice’s hand paused over the page of an auction catalogue she’d been perusing when Victoria undulated into sight to her left.

Alice was afraid to move, like she was trying to avoid startling a wild bird.

She turned her head by increments until she was finally looking directly at the dark-haired woman in the blue lace gown, bloodstained ruffles at her throat.

She was perched on the edge of the sofa, a slight smile curving her lips, as if she was waiting for Alice to notice her.

“Hello,” she said.

No screaming in the face. That was a good start, Alice supposed.

“Hi,” Alice replied. “Er, nice to see you again.”

Riley set her book aside but didn’t say anything, apparently content to let Alice handle this.

“I’d like to apologize for my outburst,” Victoria said quietly. “The longing I felt, being close to his presence after so long, feeling him nearby. It was almost painful, how much I wanted more of it. And I haven’t felt pain in a long time.”

“I’m so sorry I still haven’t found the ring,” Alice told her. “It’s somewhere in my grandparents’ shop. I’m still looking.”

Alice could only hope that her grandparents hadn’t found it.

“But I’m not sure that’s your attachment object,” Alice mused. “Since it’s outside the house and you’re…inside.”

“I don’t know what my attachment object is,” Victoria huffed, sounding annoyed.

“It makes me a bit of a misfit around here. But it’s nice that you’re looking for the ring.

I did love that ring. And if you’re a Proctor, that means you’re a relative of his, which is even better.

Maybe that’s why I could feel his presence on you. His blood runs in your veins.”

“Maybe.” Alice said, nodding. “Wait, what?”

Riley’s jaw dropped with the stunned-thrilled expression of someone watching their favorite telenovela. Victoria smiled and Alice could see a bit of Collin’s occasional but profound mischief in her eyes. In that moment, she looked every bit the young girl she was supposed to be.

“Samuel was never supposed to give it to me,” she whispered, smiling shyly up at Alice. “It took him a whole year to save for it, working in his father’s shop.”

Alice’s brain was swimming. What was Victoria saying? How had Alice been so wrong?

“I met Samuel because of the mill,” Victoria said.

“When we were building Forsythia Manor, my father wanted us there, on the building site. We rented a house on the mainland and sailed over every day to see the progress of the house rising. We tried renting Shaddow House and a Zachary Denton practically tossed my father off the porch. Papa wrote his employer a sternly worded letter, which I find very funny now, knowing there was no employer. Anyway, my father thought it was good for us to see the work that went into building something, in overseeing a project like that. From the foundation up, we saw the framework grow, the furnace and pipes, the roof. I would sit there in a camp chair, reading under a parasol. Samuel seemed to be pulling his wagon up to the building site several times a day. He was sweet, sort of silly, shy, just a tall, gangly boy with freckles and ears that were too big for his head. Of course, I also had spots and feet that were far too large for the rest of my body… My feet were large for a longshoreman. I eventually grew into them.”

Alice giggled.

“You have his look about you, you know,” Victoria told her. “The shape of your mouth when you laugh, the light in his eyes. It’s the same.”

Alice smiled. It was nice, having someone say something nice about her family. And it came as a relief that Samuel wasn’t a murderer. She couldn’t wait to tell Collin, even if he’d been pretty understanding about the whole thing.

“He was just a friend,” Victoria said. “A good friend, someone I could talk to.”

“What happened? How did you end up engaged to Stanford?” Alice asked.

“Stanford was a friend of a family friend,” Victoria sighed.

“We were connected in that way only those in the Social Register could understand. And the autumn that I lost the spots from my face and grew into my unfashionably large feet, he’d somehow found his way into my father’s plans for the hotel.

He was an architect who had worked on a few high-profile buildings around New York.

He was very passionate about his craft, something my father respected, and that whole winter, he was just always there .

At the Fifth Avenue house, usually around mealtimes, sketching plans, making suggestions.

Then he would inevitably be asked to join us for dinner.

And I was barely out of the schoolroom. I’d hardly been anywhere.

I wasn’t allowed to go to a museum unaccompanied, and he’d been on a grand tour of the Continent.

He knew so much about art and history and the theater, and I was so young. And so foolish.”

Riley raised her hand and asked, “Er, how much older was he?”

Victoria didn’t seem annoyed that Riley inserted herself into the conversation. She looked embarrassed. If ghosts could blush, Victoria’s cheeks would have gone pink. “I had just turned eighteen and he was thirty-two.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Riley sighed. “That is not OK. And you weren’t emotionally prepared to make half of the decisions that were being put on you. If it makes you feel better, that’s the sort of behavior that would get him thoroughly shamed on the internet now. Probably put on some watch lists.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” Victoria replied.

“Things are done very differently now,” Alice assured her.

“Good. I like that young lady who spends so much time here.” Victoria paused and smiled. “She seemed a little more…energetic than girls of my time, but certain of herself.”

Alice and Riley both looked stricken of the idea of Mina being manipulated into an arranged marriage to a man in his thirties.

“I’d just curtsied at my debutante ball when Stanford and his parents approached my father about an engagement,” Victoria said.

“My father was reluctant, but I was just so sure I would never find someone better than Stanford. Papa insisted on a long engagement, spanning years , until I was twenty-one. I think he wanted me to be sure, sweet man that he was.”

“He didn’t have problems with you marrying someone who worked for a living?” Alice asked.

Victoria shook her head. “Stanford’s family were nouveau riche, yes.

They made their money in textiles or ceramics or some such thing, but he’d been to the right schools, had the right friends, knew the right people.

And my father liked the fact that the Newlin family wasn’t afraid of ‘getting their hands a little dirty.’ He thought families like ours, who’d had means for a few generations, were getting softer.

He thought a good match from an enterprising family like that would be better for me.

And they were all very kind, very accommodating.

Fawning, really. It made me a little uncomfortable.

My mother had prepared me for a mother-in-law who would tell me I wasn’t good enough for her darling boy. ”

Fawning . That was an interesting choice of words.

Victoria smiled fondly. “And then we returned to Starfall Point that summer and Samuel was all grown up. Just as funny, just as sweet. And so different from what I was used to from Stanford. Warmer, softer. I’d become so accustomed to being instructed by Stanford, to his telling me how to behave, how I should approach situations.

I forgot what it was like to just be. Samuel and I talked about music and books and instead of telling me how I should feel about them, he listened to what I thought.

It was the first time I’d been allowed to feel and act like a person my age, not an ‘eligible young lady from a fine family.’ Samuel was admired not because of what he had or whom he was related to, but because he was so good—good to me, good to other people.

And the next summer, he gave me that ring.

I had to wear it on a chain around my neck. ”