One Touch of Magic by Amanda Mccabe Read Free Book Online Page A

it and display it all at Ransome Hall—and it will also remind me of this day.”
    Sarah smiled in return. “Would you care to see the rest of the objects we have found? We keep them in the old stable up on that hill, until I can find them a more suitable home.”
    “I would like that very much.”
    He held his arm out to her, and she slipped her hand into its warm crook. They might almost have been stepping into a ballroom rather than a dusty stable so formal and gallant was he. Sarah wished for one instant that she was wearing a silk gown and diamonds, and that her hair was properly dressed. How would Lord Ransome look at her then? With admiration?
    She shook her head, and tried to push those thoughts back. She was not here for such frivolous things as gowns and flirtations! She was here to work.
    And only work.

    Miles followed Lady Iverson into the dim cavern of the old stable, ducking his head to avoid a low-hanging spiderweb. The only light was from sunshine through the chinks of the wooden walls, pale bars where dust motes danced. The floor was covered by a layer of fresh straw, and the air smelled of its sweetness and the warmth of the day. Lady Iverson’s skirt stirred the straw when she walked across the building.
    He thought again how very different she was from any other lady he had ever met. She worked out under the sun, uncaring of her attire or her complexion, intent only on the nine-hundred-year-old objects she was unearthing. When she spoke of her work, her eyes glowed, and her mobile mouth turned up with eagerness. Her hand, when she reached out to give him the tiny metal link, was tanned and dusty. Her gown was far from fashionable, and covered with a stained apron.
    But, for all that— because of all that—she was lovely. Miles was drawn to her inexorably. He wanted to be near her brightness, her vitality, and absorb some of it into himself.
    He had been so tired since the end of the war, bone-deep tired, but so restless at the same time. On the Peninsula, there had been times of maddening boredom, yet he had always known that he had a purpose there. And he was good at the military life, too. He took care of his men, and won accolades—some perhaps even deserved—for his actions in battle.
    He sometimes wondered if he could be half as good being a marquis, if he could find a purpose here, as Lady Iverson obviously had. He was beginning to imagine that helping former soldiers in these difficult times could be that new purpose. He just had to decide how to begin.
    There was a rustling sound from the far end of the stable, and he turned his attention back to Lady Iverson. She had gone to a row of tables, and was pulling canvas covers from them. He moved closer, and saw that the tables were laden with objects of every shape and size, many of them quite unrecognizable, all of them neatly labeled.
    “These are items we found in House A,” she said. “Mostly domestic items, of course, and things that would have belonged to a lady. Glass beds, soapstone spindles, and bowls—the soapstone would have been imported from Norway, so I assume these people were originally Norwegians. Some pottery storage jars. We found seeds in them, which a friend of my husband’s, who is a noted botanist, says are barley, wheat, and dill.”
    Her gaze softened when she mentioned her late husband. Miles wondered with an odd pang if she still loved him, still longed for him. “What are these?” he asked, trying to shake off those disquieting thoughts by leaning over an array of beautifully decorated silver items. “They’re quite lovely.”
    Lady Iverson smiled softly, as if she had a particular affection for these pieces. “Indeed, they are. These are a pair of silver brooches, which would have fastened a lady’s overdress. We found them in House A, along with these amber beads and enameled armbands. Even though the house is small, the inhabitants must have been well-to-do to own such things. There was also this. It is