Page 47 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

Margaret swallowed thickly.

Fiona smiled. “Enid knows him. I was at her cottage yesterday on the front porch, and I heard his voice. I couldn’t see him because the shades were drawn over the window. I don’t think they’re friends, though. He said something about her ripping his clothes off. That doesn’t sound like something a friend would do.”

That dread I’d felt earlier spread through my entire body now.

“Fiona.” Nervous laughter bubbled from Margaret. “I really think that’s enough⁠—”

“He seemed nice.” Fiona skipped to the wall, trailing her fingers over the vines that hung down. “I heard him say he visits Enid every month, and he came to see her, but she said she wasn’t in the mood this time, so he had to leave early.”

“She wasn’t in the mood?” I echoed.

Margaret’s hands went over her face.

Done with the vines, Fiona turned and walked to my potion, rising on her tiptoes to study it in the petri dish. “Uh-huh. She said she wasn’t in the mood, and he said she’s always in the mood when he comes to visit. Then she told him she wasn’t feeling well and to come again next month.” She wrinkled her nose. “This is why she needs a friend party.”

My brain was still stuck on the fact that a man was visiting Enid’s cottage, and it sounded like he was visiting for a very specific purpose.

Enid had a lover. Suddenly I felt sick.

“Fiona,” Margaret said, voice three pitches higher than normal, “why don’t you get to work on the party details? I’ll meet you in the library and help you plan it.”

“Okay!” Fiona smiled brightly as she skipped out of the room like she hadn’t just punched me in the gut.

I slowly turned toward the painting, arms crossed. “How did you know about Ambrose?”

Margaret winced. “Um, well. It turns out I can visit paintings throughout Fairwitch. I didn’t know until recently when Niamh brought me to Enid’s cottage. Everyone was leaving, and they forgot about my painting. I’d fallen asleep so I didn’t notice until I woke up, and the painting was still perched against Enid’s couch. I decided to try and get back to the castle, and it worked. It turns out, if you take a painting from the castle and put it somewhere in Fairwitch, I can access it. I went back to tell Enid it was still in her house. Still perched against the back of the couch.”

My stomach turned. “And that’s when Ambrose was there.” I hated even saying his fucking name.

Margaret’s eyes shone with sorrow. “I heard Fiona talking about the party. Then she left, and before I could announce my presence, this Ambrose arrived.”

I swallowed thickly.

Margaret bit her lip. “I know I shouldn’t have listened in on their conversation, but, well, you’re my friend, and I thought maybe if Enid was betraying you, you should know. If it makes you feel any better, she did tell him he needed to go, to come back next month instead.”

That didn’t make me feel better. She’d see him again in a month. Close to when our arrangement would be over.

Margaret bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Nevan.”

Fuck. Margaret knowing could put everything at risk. If she went and told the whole castle about this, then they’d all turn on Enid, and our plan would be done. We’d be done. And Enid would be exiled. I couldn’t bear the thought of that.

“Margaret, the truth is . . .” My brain scrambled for an explanation. “We have an open arrangement.”

Margaret’s mouth fell ajar.

“Enid wasn’t doing anything wrong. If she’s seeing some man named Ambrose, she’s not actually betraying me. I just didn’t want you to think badly of her.”

“So you’re okay with this?”

“Absolutely.” I almost choked on the word.

Margaret studied my face. “Are you sure? I understand she’s not doing anything wrong, but when Fiona told you about Ambrose, you looked . . . gutted.”

No, I hadn’t been gutted. I wasn’t gutted. Maybe I was mad that some other man got to fuck Enid when I only got to pretend I was fucking her.

That was probably it, but I wouldn’t admit that to Margaret. “I’m just upset about how careless she’s being,” I said. “No one knows about our arrangement to keep things open. I don’t want anyone thinking badly of her.”

“Right. If you say so. You two just seem so good together. And Enid didn’t seem interested in Ambrose at all. It seemed like maybe her mind was on someone else.” Margaret widened her eyes meaningfully in my direction.