Page 7 of Unexpected Magic

Delia was also in charge of an unhatched egg whose contents were unknown, except it had been born of a human mother and so could be assumed to be magical. The egg was twice the size it had been two weeks ago, and was still growing. Delia assumed that when the shell hardened, it would grow no more. She hoped the child within was going to be human-sized, for she feared she’d be rearing that one, too.

The egg must have contained a girl, for Sapphire accepted it cheerfully. He had tried to kill the poor little minotaur and would have succeeded had the unicorn been a bit bigger or Delia a little slower.

Thank goodness for Polly. She was, at least, another pair of hands to deal with whichever baby was the second to demand feeding. She was neither very big nor very skilled, but she was willing, and grateful to be away from the kitchen.

Delia had hoped to have Millie for help as soon as she was free of the smell of men. A trained stable hand would have been a godsend. But apparently the trio of stable hands who had been fired had decided their dismissal had been Millie’s fault, and had gone after her seeking revenge. Out of the blue, Millie had suddenly manifested a witch gift, and there were now three new fat toads in the farm’s pond.

The priest insisted the men be changed back, but Madam Greensmith had said the only person who could reverse Millie’s spell was Millie. And Millie had no idea what she had done orhow. Madam Greensmith had taken her as an apprentice, and the priest, after muttering under his breath, had decided against opposing the district’s senior witch. Instead, he had contented himself with warning everyone against killing toads in or near the pond, lest they accidentally committed murder.

Edgar had left the manor, too. His was a mage power, Father reported, so the mage who came from Chester to test him had taken him back to the mage school at the castle. Also sent off for training were three other newly-gifted people—one more witch, a weather-worker, and a healer.

Delia had never heard of so many gifts and magical births in one place in such a short time. Nor had Father. He and Delia met in the stable yard every morning at ten by the stable clock, maintaining a careful distance of five paces in order not to upset the unicorn, and he kept Delia informed about what was happening in the neighborhood.

Three days ago, Father had told Delia that she and her charges must be ready to travel, for the king’s envoy would soon be here to collect them. And last night, he had sent one of the maids to say that the envoy was in Chester, staying with the duke, and would probably arrive today.

The envoy was a Mr. Thornton. Delia had assumed the queen would send a woman, under the circumstances. Presumably, however, the envoy had a solution for traveling more than five hundred miles while keeping the unicorn, Delia, and all her charges at least five yards from any male, whether human or animal.

The unicorn was feeding five times a day, which was a vast improvement over his first two days, when the feedings had been hourly, and the two weeks after that, when he had still needed feeding twelve to fifteen times a day, including several times a night.

The lindwurm, whom she had named Mary, was on much the same regime, so on the morning the envoy was expected, Polly was feeding Sapphire, and Delia was heating a bottle for Mary when she heard hoofbeats on the cobblestones outside.

She had to lean close to the kitchen window so she could peer out at the angle required for a glimpse of the new arrival, and even then, she could tell little through the rain. A rider in oilskins, male by the size. Probably, given it was eight in the morning and the man was alone, some kind of messenger.

Shrugging, Delia went to feed Mary. If the message was about her or any of her charges, no doubt Father would tell her, but in the meantime, she had work to do.

Mary was an easygoing baby. She slept well and often, and when she was awake, she happily watched everything around her with large blue eyes that seemed much older than the four weeks she had been in the world.

Unless her meal was delayed for longer than Mary considered acceptable. Delia, Polly, the inhabitants of the manor, and everyone in the countryside for a mile about had learned that the little lindwurm could produce a shriek that threatened to shatter ear drums when she was upset. After the second occasion, Delia and Polly did their level best to ensure she was never upset—and both carried scraps of wool to stuff into their ears just in case.

Keeping Mary content meant ignoring the knock on the door that came just after the little girl had begun her meal. The person who knocked tried again, twice. Mary ignored them, but Sapphire pushed Polly away and attempted to ram the door.

“Delia?” It was her father’s voice. “There is someone here to speak with you.”

Delia could shout back, but that might upset Mary. Polly, sensible girl, replied for her, opening the window and sticking her head out so that she didn’t have to shout. “Miss is feedingMary, sir,” she called. “She’ll be with you as soon as little Miss Mary is satisfied.”

Father’s low rumble of an answer was unintelligible to Delia, but Polly replied, “I shall tell her, sir. Could you and the gentlemen step away, please? The unicorn can smell you, and he is upset.”

Sapphire rammed the door again, as if to punctuate Polly’s remark. Polly shut and fastened the window, then went to soothe the angry little equine, saying as she did so, “It’s your Pa, Miss Delia, and the king’s man. They’d like to talk to you when you are free, Miss.”

Mary had almost finished her bottle, but the visitors would have to wait until the little lindwurm had brought up her wind. Once she had done so, she would lie happily in her cradle, watching the world, but putting her down before she was comfortable would elicit one of those eldritch shrieks.

In the end, it was fifteen minutes before Delia let herself out of the cottage door. Her father sat on the bench under the oak next to the cottage, another man beside him. The stranger was a handsome fellow, of medium height, with a young, almost boyish, face. He had a man’s body and build, however—as was obvious in his tight-fitting boots and breeches, and his superbly cut tailcoat, which hugged his broad shoulders and upper body, and flowed neatly over his hips and down behind the back of the bench.

His hat sat on the bench beside him, and his chestnut hair gleamed copper in the sunlight. He was, in fact, precisely the sort of man about whom Delia dreamed when she allowed herself to indulge in daydreams about men and marriage; both of which were now further removed from her than ever, thanks to the unicorn.

“Good morning, Father,” said Delia.

The stranger leapt to his feet, and Father followed him, more slowly. “Ah, Cordelia. So, the little snake is fed, is she?”

“Yes, Mary is fed.” Delia hated how Father refused to use the names Delia had given to her two charges. He always referred to them as “the little snake” and “the little unicorn”. Arguing with him was pointless, however. She turned her attention to the stranger and waited for Father to make the introductions.

“My daughter, Cordelia. You cannot get closer to her, Thornton. If you do, the little unicorn will go mad.”

The stranger had better manners than Father. He bowed. “Miss Nettleford, I am Jasper Thornton. The king has sent me to be your escort to London. Please let me know what you require during the journey for your comfort and wellbeing, and that of your charges.”

Delia had been thinking about it. “Sapphire—that is, the unicorn—will need a suitable wagon. A covered one in which he can be comfortable whatever the weather. It will need to be pulled by mares, and driven by a woman, for he cannot tolerate anything male within five paces, and prefers ten. The woman must not have been with a man for several weeks, nor the mares with a stallion.”

Mr. Thornton had pulled out a notebook and was writing himself a list. “Very good. Anything else? A carriage for you and your chaperone, I assume. Must that also be pulled by mares and driven by a woman?”