THIRTY-FIVE
Day after day, Bernard limped up to her door, knocking and apologising, before he gave up and left a pot on the top step.
She'd given in and opened the door the first time, but seeing the anguish on his face as he lied to her had driven her nearly mad. She'd wanted to push him down the steps, or turn him into something slimy and execrable, so instead of the handsome man who'd stolen her heart, he would look like his true self.
But he was Lord Vauquelin's son, and if she used magic on him...no one would want to marry the witch woman of Berehaven, for he would be sure to tell everyone he knew.
So she waited until she heard the thump-click of his walking stick fade into the distance before she dared to open the door and snatch up what was always a delicious dinner.
She di
