To Catch a Witch Read online

  To Catch a Witch

  Sharon Booth

  Published in Great Britain in 2020 by:

  Green Ginger Publishing

  Yorkshire, England

  Copyright © 2020 Sharon Booth.

  Cover design by Berni Stevens. www.bernistevensdesign.com

  The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  For the lovers and the dreamers.

  Keep believing.

  xxxx

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  About the Author

  Also by Sharon Booth

  Acknowledgements

  More from Sharon Booth

  Chapter One

  'I thought you were supposed to be staying out of the way. He'll see you, you know, and then what will we say?'

  Star pulled a face. 'Oh, I know I should stay hidden,' she admitted. 'Bad sister. That's me.' She peered over my shoulder to the far end of the bar where Hector sat alone at a table. 'I just couldn't help myself. I simply had to know. How's it going?'

  I shrugged. 'It's going okay.'

  'Okay?' Her voice was heavy with disappointment. 'Just okay? Don't you like him?'

  I glanced over at Hector. He was gazing out of the window while repeatedly turning a beermat over between his fingers. I wondered what he was thinking. Probably wondering why on earth he'd let himself be bullied into this blind date. He had my deepest sympathies. I'd been wondering the same thing myself.

  'He seems very nice,' I said. 'I like him.'

  'So?'

  I sighed. 'So, nothing. That's it. He's nice but he's not — you know.'

  'Oh, Celeste! What am I going to do with you? At least give him a chance,' she said. 'Benedict says he's the kindest, most decent man he's ever known, and I'm sure he'd be perfect for you if you'd just make an effort.'

  But that was the point. Surely, love shouldn't be an effort? I'd tried to explain it to my sisters so many times, but, clearly, I'd failed to make them understand. Love wasn't something that could be ordered like a starter from a menu. Love wasn't something that could be fixed, organised, orchestrated. Love just … was. And it would find me. If it was meant to be. I knew little about love, but I'd always been certain of that. If my perfect man was out there, he and I would meet. Destiny would make sure of it. I didn't need my sister and her husband to bully some poor bloke into meeting me in a pub, however well-meaning they were.

  'I have tried,' I protested. 'He's just—'

  'Not tall, dark and sexy, and from the seventeenth century.'

  'Do shut up,' I responded. 'It's nothing to do with that. And actually, he is tall, dark and ... Look, he's not my type, that's all.'

  'As I said, tall, dark and sexy, and from the seventeenth century. That's your type, isn't it? What modern man can compete?'

  'For goodness' sake!'

  Exasperated, I gave up. My sisters were convinced I had a crush on our twelve times great uncle, Blaise St Clair. It was all because I kept a print of his portrait in my bedroom. I mean, as if! He was a fascinating chap, that's all. And yes, he was tall, dark and — handsome — but I'm not crazy. I didn't have a crush on him. That would be weird.

  She tutted and glanced at her watch. 'It's still only nine o'clock. What are you going to do?' She gave me a mischievous smile. 'You could always zap your way out of here. Go home and I'll tell him you felt ill.'

  'Don't be so mean,' I said. 'Hector may not be the man of my dreams but he's a kind, decent man, I know that much. The least he deserves is for me to see this date through.'

  'To the bitter end?' She sighed. 'Benedict's going to be so disappointed. He was convinced you two were the perfect match.'

  'It was very kind of Benedict to think of me,' I told her. 'Hector's a lovely man, and I can see why he thought that, but there'll be no second date.'

  With him or any other man, I vowed. I'd rather be single forever than go on another blind date. Why had I let Benedict talk me into it?

  This Hector chap was someone Benedict had met several years before, when they'd played for a local amateur football team. When Benedict stopped playing (funnily enough, around the time he got serious with Star) they'd lost touch for a while. Benedict had bumped into him a few weeks ago in the library, and a brief chat with him had convinced my brother-in-law that Hector and I would get on famously.

  'He's ever so nice,' he'd told me. 'A real old-fashioned gentleman. Precisely what you need, Celeste.'

  'And a history buff, too,' Star had added. 'When Benedict met him, he was carrying loads of books about the Civil War and Restoration period. It's like he was made for you.'

  They'd worn me down with their incessant nagging until I'd given in and agreed to meet up with what they termed a suitable man. Suitable for whom? Not me. I didn't need a man, and I wished my sisters would accept that. Their flourishing love lives had convinced them I wouldn't be happy without a partner, but they were wrong. I was fine as a single woman. It was better than making small talk with someone like Hector, the “real old-fashioned gentleman”, anyway.

  'Well, if you're certain he's not the one for you …' Star sighed and turned to the barman. 'A vodka and orange and a pint of Lusty Tup please.'

  'I was here before you,' I protested, nudging her.

  She grinned. 'So you were. How come you're getting the drinks in, anyway? So much for Hector being a gentleman.'

  'He is a gentleman,' I protested. 'He offered, obviously, but I insisted. The poor man's already been to the bar twice, and he's paid for all the drinks. Won't hear of letting me pay, or even going Dutch.'

  'I should hope not.'

  Star sounded indignant, and I reflected that, for a liberated woman, she certainly had old-fashioned ideas about some things.

  She fixed the barman with a dazzling smile as she handed him the money for her drinks.

  'Keep the change,' she told him, and I hid my amusement as he visibly melted before our eyes. Men were putty in Star's hands. She could have had the pick of any man she wanted. I was terribly relieved she'd fallen for someone as steady and reliable as Benedict. He was exactly what she needed to rein her in and calm her down. My elder sister was a darling, but she could be a bit of a hothead at times. Benedict's cool reasoning was the perfect antidote to her flashes of temper.

  'Right,' she said, winking at me, 'I'll take these over to our table while you get yoursel
f back to Hector. At least be kind in your rejection.'

  'I'm always kind,' I reminded her.

  She smiled. 'Of course you are. I quite forgot who I was talking to. Come and get us when your date's over.'

  She hurried back to Benedict, and I ordered the drinks from the barman. He was still staring at a retreating Star. I cleared my throat and he blinked and apologised, then poured me two large glasses of white wine.

  I headed in the opposite direction to Star, to a table by the window, where my poor hapless would-be suitor sat, staring into his empty wine glass. Feeling guilty, I resolved to do better. Why was I so hopeless with men? I had nothing to say to them. Well, except for my brother, Sirius. And Jethro and Benedict. And Castor and Father. Obviously.

  'Sorry,' I said as he looked up. 'There was a queue.'

  'No problem,' he assured me, smiling.

  I thought how good-natured and pleasant he was, and reflected sadly that, in other circumstances, I'd probably have liked him very much. It was a shame we'd been introduced as prospective partners. I thought we could have been very good friends if we'd met naturally.

  He took a sip of his wine, waiting for me to say something. When I didn't speak, he turned his head to stare out of the window into the darkness. I sat opposite him and steeled myself for the inevitable, wondering how he'd take it that I didn't want to see him again.

  Then again, I realised, he might be feeling the same way. Let's face it, I hadn't exactly been scintillating company. I'd been too preoccupied with other thoughts.

  The multi-coloured Christmas lights that decorated the room reflected in the window. The Two Brothers Inn, like just about every other building in Castle Clair, was dressed for the festive season, and there was a buzz about the town that was even greater than usual. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, always a busy day, but it was special for another reason, too. The twenty-fourth of December marked the three hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the witch's leap. The night our ancestor, Blaise St Clair, leapt over the castle wall to escape the witchfinder, Tobias Palmer, and disappeared.

  Legend had it he'd drowned in the River Hrafn. I'd never trusted that. A witch as powerful as Blaise would have escaped, no question about it. A recent revelation had confirmed he had, after all, landed in the water, which my family had taken as proof. There was a part of me, though, that couldn't accept it. Blaise, I was sure, had got out of that river alive, and one day I would find the evidence for it. One day ...

  Dragging my gaze away from the window, I blinked. 'Pardon?'

  Hector gave me a resigned smile. 'I was just saying I'm glad I'm not at work tomorrow. I'm on my Christmas break now.'

  'Oh, good. What is it you do?'

  His eyes crinkled with amusement. 'As I said earlier, I'm a consultant lawyer.'

  I blushed, aware that I'd made a faux pas. 'Sorry. I must have forgotten.'

  'No worries. It's not exactly exciting,' he admitted. 'Not to other people, anyway.'

  'So, where do you work?' I asked, trying to sound interested. 'There are a few legal firms in Castle Clair. Are you based here?'

  'I am based here,' he confirmed. 'But I work from home. I'm sort of freelance. It suits me better that way. I don't have to go into an office any more, and I build my own client list.'

  'And you prefer that? Isn't it rather precarious? Financially, I mean.'

  'It was at first,' he confirmed. 'Then the ball started rolling and now I manage fine. Besides, it isn't only about the money. It was important to me to have flexible hours, and this way I work when it suits me. I can work evenings and weekends, take the day off if I choose, and decide when I want to book a holiday.' He smiled. 'You never know when you'll need to take a trip somewhere.'

  'I suppose not.'

  I cast a sneaky peek over my shoulder at Star and Benedict. They were deep in conversation and looked as if they were having a wonderful time. Nice for some. I sighed inwardly and turned my attention back to Hector. None of this was his fault. He'd been terribly polite and kind all evening and seemed to have a good sense of humour. Not to mention endless patience, even with people who were clearly only half-present.

  It wasn't as if he was unattractive either. He had dark hair, brown eyes, and dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. A decent, ordinary chap. The trouble was, although he had dark hair, it wasn't as dark and straight as a raven's wing. And those brown eyes weren't almost coal black, but warm and friendly and the colour of acorns.

  In other circumstances, I'd have liked him a lot. If he'd wandered into the museum, I'd have struck up a conversation with him and found him perfectly pleasant.

  'I work in the Museum of Magic, in the grounds of Clair Castle,' I told him. 'Did Benedict mention that?'

  He nodded. 'Once or twice.' The dimples in his cheeks reappeared. 'It must be a fascinating place to work. I've visited there many times.'

  I stared at him. 'Have you?'

  'Of course. Everyone in Castle Clair has been to the museum at least once, haven't they? And many people find it thrilling.'

  'And you're one of those people?' He might finally be getting interesting.

  'I am. It has several artefacts dating from the seventeenth century. I'm fascinated by that period. So much happened.'

  'It did,' I agreed, remembering the witchfinders and Blaise's leap to freedom.

  'The Gunpowder Plot, Bubonic Plague, followed swiftly by the Great fire,' he enthused. 'England became a republic for the first and only time. Families torn apart through war and divided loyalties. The entire face of the country altered. And the Restoration! A total change of direction. All that excess after so much piety.' He shook his head. 'Amazing.'

  I slumped in my chair, disappointed. Star was right. He was a history buff, which was all well and good, but he'd quite missed the point of the museum.

  'Yes,' I said. 'Isn't it?'

  'Not to you,' he responded gently.

  The eagerness had left his voice, and I experienced another pang of guilt.

  'I'm so sorry,' I said. 'The truth is, I'm exhausted. It's been a hectic week, what with the anniversary and Christmas coming up, and tomorrow will be even busier.'

  He shrugged. 'I can understand that. What anniversary are you talking about?'

  'Nothing you'd be interested in,' I said. 'It concerns Witch's Leap and—'

  'Oh, yes, I know. The St Clair legend.'

  'You know it?'

  'Like I said earlier, I'm a Castle Clair man, born and bred. You can't grow up here and not be aware of the witch's leap, can you?'

  I frowned. 'Sorry, how old are you again?'

  'Thirty-two.'

  'About the same age as my brother, Sirius,' I mused. 'Were you at school with him?'

  'No,' he said. 'I was taught at home.'

  'Oh? For what reason?'

  He picked up his glass. 'I guess my mum was a bit of a hippy and didn't want to conform.'

  'Yet you ended up a lawyer.' I grinned. 'She must be so disappointed.'

  He raised an eyebrow. 'Are you saying lawyers are dull?'

  I blushed. 'Oh, lord! I never meant it like that.'

  He laughed. 'It's okay. Most people's eyes glaze over when I tell them what I do. I'm used to it.'

  I sighed. 'I'm sorry. I haven't exactly been marvellous company, have I?'

  'Honestly? I can see your heart's not in this,' he admitted. 'Maybe we should call it a night?'

  'Would you mind? I'm tired and, as I said, it will be busy at the museum tomorrow. I could do with an early night.'

  'It's fine. I've got lots to be doing, too,' he assured me. 'It may be Christmas Eve tomorrow, but it won't be a quiet one, I can tell you that.'

  'Oh?'

  He pulled his jacket from the back of the chair and shrugged it on. 'Christmas Eve is always hectic, isn't it?'

  We both stood, and I gave him a grateful smile as he helped me into my coat.

  'Well,' he said.

  'Yes,' I replied.

  We stared awkwardly at each other
for a moment.

  He rummaged in his pocket. 'My card.'

  I barely glanced at the business card he'd pressed into my hand. 'Thanks,' I said. 'I'll hang onto that.'

  'If you ever need advice,' he said, sounding sincere, 'that's how to find me.'

  'I'll remember that.' I hoped I sounded genuine. I couldn't imagine any reason I'd ever need a solicitor, and even if I did, we used Harker and Swift in Castle Clair, and always had done.

  'Shall I walk you home?' he asked.

  'Er—'

  His eyes twinkled. 'I suppose you'll be walking with Star and Benedict instead.'

  He nodded over my shoulder to where my sister and brother-in-law were sitting, supposedly hidden in the corner.

  'Sorry,' I said. 'Star just thought—'

  'Please, don't apologise,' he said. 'I understand they're looking out for you. I've known Benedict years, but that doesn't mean I'm not hiding an enormous secret, does it? I could be a maniac. I can't blame them for wanting to protect you. I'd do the same.'

  'You're awfully kind,' I told him.

  'I'd better go.' He turned up his collar, clearly feeling awkward. 'Goodbye, Celeste. It was lovely to meet you.'

  He stuck out his hand, and I shook it, as embarrassed as he was. 'Lovely to meet you, too, Hector.'

  'Don't forget my card. You know where to find me if you need me,' he said, and headed out of the pub, leaving me feeling an absolute heel for ending our date so early. For a moment I hesitated, not sure if I should hurry after him and arrange another meeting. But I realised, deep down, it would be a waste of time, and unfair to him. I had no interest in him, no matter how nice he was. I had no interest in any man. It was far too late.

  I made my way over to Star, who jumped as I tapped her on the shoulder.

  'Oh, hi. Everything going okay?'

  'We said goodbye politely, if that's what you mean.'

  'Said goodbye politely?' Benedict said. 'Do I take it you won't be seeing him again?'

  'Told you she wasn't into him,' Star said.

  'But why on earth not?' Benedict sounded genuinely puzzled. 'He's the perfect man for you. He's kind, honourable, loyal, funny. He wouldn't mess you about, I can tell you that much.'