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Chapter Twenty-Three

W hit smiled down at Clover, then glanced around at the ghosts hovering around them.

It was no big shock that they wanted to see the new witch who’d come onto the premises. Even though he didn’t blame them for wanting to take a peek at Clover, Whit was a little surprised by just how many had chosen to greet them. He hadn’t seen some of these ghosts in years.

There were ancestors from generations back and limbs of the family tree he couldn’t even place. Cousin Lacey—he didn’t know how far removed—who had died as a child; Great-Great-Grandmother Aneira, who could often be found knitting in her chair by the fire; Great-Uncle Andri—Grandfather’s brother—who was known to be somewhat of a trickster in life and in death; and even the patriarch himself, Edur, who had signed the treaty and moved the family to Forest Haven.

The ghosts crowded the parlor and dining room on either side of where he and Clover stood in the hall. This seemed to be an epic event for them. Among those present, though he could not see them, he felt Grandmother—so recently passed—as well as his father and uncle—Caldwell’s father.

He’d put feeling, and a little magic, behind his words to Clover. And by emphasizing that she was his wife, and they would not be permitted to harm her—summer witch or no—many of them dissipated.

Once they’d left, she visibly relaxed. Though it was clear she could not see them, she certainly could feel their presence.

Whit marked that only Lacey, Andri, Grandmother, and Dad had remained.

Looking back at Clover, he saw her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright as she stared up at him. His breath caught, not knowing what he’d done to earn such an expression.

“Let’s…take these upstairs first,” Whit said, tearing his eyes from her face to go back for her suitcases. He nodded toward the stairs. “You can head up first.”

A blur rushed past them up the stairs, and when he glanced around, he saw Andri was gone.

Dread pooled in Whit’s stomach. What’s he going to do? He didn’t think Andri would hurt Clover, but he would have no compunctions about scaring her.

She moved toward the steps, and he called out in a hurry. “A-actually, I’ll go first.”

At the top of the stairs, Whit found Andri with his ghostly hands on the frame of a painting near Clover’s room, ready to pull it from the wall.

Whit glared at his great-uncle, shaking his head in warning. Andri squinted, then drifted farther down the hall as if he were the most innocent spirit the world had ever seen.

For her part, Lacey followed Clover quietly, analyzing her auburn hair and manner of dress.

Clover seemed none the wiser, glancing around at her new home, admiring his craftsmanship.

“I love this wallpaper and these sconces! Gorgeous.”

“The sconces are electric, but they’re the same style as the gas ones that were there before. My grandmother picked out the wallpaper,” Whit explained as he motioned her into the first door at the top of the stairs. “This is your room.”

Clover frowned as she entered, and he grasped at any reason she might not like it.

“I’m sorry it isn’t as big as your room at your parents’ house, but we can find space for anything that doesn’t fit.”

In the light of day, while Clover took in her new bedroom, Whit suddenly felt it looked very plain.

She turned her blue eyes back to him, a reserved look on her face. “And…your room?”

He motioned toward the other door. “Through there is a shared bathroom. My room is on the other side.”

“Oh.” She nodded slowly.

“If there’s anything you don’t like, you can change it. This is your home now, too.” The longer she frowned, the more his chest tightened.

She tilted her head at him. “It’s a lovely room. But thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before Whit could puzzle out why she would look so disappointed if she liked the room, he heard a chuckle from the hall and saw Andri peek into the doorway. Stepping closer to the door, Whit grabbed the handle just as Andri tried to slam it shut. It was a favorite prank of his—slamming doors when one least expected it. The door pulled a bit in Whit’s hand, but he held it in place.

“My grandfather’s room is across the hall. I’ll show you the downstairs before we head back.” Whit yanked the door from Andri’s grasp, then closed it gently once Clover was in the hall.

“Your grandfather…” Clover started down the stairs. “Does he know about me yet?” She glanced back at him when she reached the ground floor.

Whit nodded. “I posted our wedding photo to my family group chat, so they all know.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s a bold move. And the rest of your family didn’t care?”

Whit felt uncomfortable with how impressed she sounded, given he’d done it by accident. “Most of them were happy for me even though they were surprised. My grandfather is very pleased.”

Whit moved into the parlor, and Clover followed.

“Even though I’m a summer witch?” She sounded shocked.

Whit frowned. “Well, they don’t know that part yet.”

“Oh. No wonder.” She laughed a sad little laugh. “I was starting to think the winter faction had far exceeded us in open-mindedness.”

Whit quirked a smile. “Maybe we have. I asked you to marry me knowing you were a summer witch, did I not? Would you have kissed me knowing I’m a winter sorcerer?”

He glanced over to find her looking him up and down. She grinned. “I might have.”

Heat radiated from Whit’s chest, traveling down his limbs and stiffening his manhood. He tamped down on the feeling before it could get away from him. The glint in those cornflower blue eyes of his new wife said she was only teasing him back. Nothing more.

A loud creak traveled through the parlor, and Clover gasped in surprise, nearly jumping out of her skin. If Whit hadn’t been so distracted by her suggestive words and expression, he would have seen Andri putting ghostly pressure on a place in the floor that always creaked.

Whit glared at the ghost of his great-uncle, who grinned and disappeared.