Magic In The Storm

by Meredith Bond

  Tatiana could put up with that from her other children. It was even expected of them. Surely her body had been waiting, waiting until the seventh child, until the rightful heir was born to be imbued with all of the magical abilities she had and more.

  But no! “No! He has nothing. He is nothing. I will not suffer that boy to live!” Tatiana threw the poker against the black marble of the fireplace and spun around, ready to destroy anything that got in her way.

  Kat stood just behind her, her hazel eyes wide with fear and shock. “You cannot kill him,” she said, clearly horrified at the thought.

  Tatiana spun back around to face the fire once more. That was what her husband had said, only he had done so much more forcefully—and with magic. “No. I cannot,” Tatiana admitted, “His father saw to that. Morgan has a protection spell over him that even I cannot break. I assure you, if I could, I would have many years ago.”

  “You can’t mean that, ma’am.”

  “Do you question me, Katrina?”

  “No, ma’am, it’s just that... even though he isn’t the girl he should have been, Morgan is still your child.”

  “And what of that? A mother was never more disappointed than I.”

  “Even so. You carried him in your womb for nine months. You do have some love for him?” The last was said more as a question, but with the certainty of a statement.

  Tatiana though about what Kat said for a moment. Did she have some love for Morgan? She supposed she must. She hadn’t killed him in all these years. She hadn’t really even tried to break his father’s protection spell, although she probably could if she truly wanted to. So perhaps there was some love in her for her son after all.

  But she would rot in hell before admitting it.

  Thirteen

  Adriana let out a startled scream as Oberon, Morgan’s dog, grabbed her hat between his teeth and lifted it off her head. She was looking extremely pretty today. Her sunny yellow dress and straw bonnet adorned with yellow silk flowers blended perfectly with the bright sunshine of the day, and contrasted beautifully with the colors of the forest. She had been kneeling down on the soft earth, carefully plucking the pretty white flowers of a marsh–mellow plant, when Oberon had decided that it was time to play.

  The dog stood just out of Adriana’s reach. As she leaned forward to grab her hat, he jumped back. She moved forward very slowly, woman and dog staring eye to eye. Quickly she lunged for the hat, and just as quickly the dog leaped backward and avoided her grasping hand.

  Morgan stifled a laugh.

  But Adriana was laughing herself as she got up off the ground and dusted off her dress. “You want to play, do you? Well, that is all fine and good, sir, but I will not have you ruining my best chip straw bonnet,” she addressed the dog with mock severity, placing her hands on her hips.

  Oberon was clearly having a lot of fun teasing Adriana. Morgan almost wished he’d thought of it himself.

  She took a menacing step toward the dog, watching carefully as he retreated, and then, without even trying to take back her hat, she turned around as if she no longer cared. Oberon hesitantly moved closer. And then with a swift movement, Adriana spun around and reached for the hat.

  But once again, Oberon was too fast for her.

  This time Morgan could not contain his laughter as his dog outwitted her yet again.

  Adriana spun around to face him. Her face was flushed with happiness, her eyes sparkling with laughter. Morgan’s breath caught in his throat. Never had he even dreamed that a woman could be so incredibly beautiful. He thought his heart was ready to burst with joy.

  “Well, are you going to just stand there and laugh at me, or are you going to help?” she said, rounding on him.

  He gave a non–committal shrug and laughed once more.

  Each and every day he and Adriana spent together, Morgan was happier than he had ever thought he could be. For long stretches of time, he had been able to forget his troubles. Each day they spent together was better than the day before—and so it had been for the past two weeks. The only thing marring his happiness was the time Adriana was away from him, and the fact that his powers did not seem to be increasing anymore—no matter how hard he worked and practiced his magic.

  A yelp from Adriana broke Morgan out of his reverie, and he watched as she went running off toward the stream after the dog.

  Morgan followed. He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the sight of Oberon standing in the stream up to his shoulders, still holding the hat just barely above the level of the water. The long yellow ribbons trailed in the gently flowing water.

  “Why, you horrible thing, you! You wouldn’t dare!” Adriana said, standing on the shore. But Morgan could see that she was desperately trying to hide her smile.

  Then just to show that he would dare, Oberon slowly lowered the hat so that it skimmed the surface of the water.

  “No! That is one of my best hats!” Adriana cried and laughed at the same time. Kicking off her shoes and quickly pulling off her stockings, she carefully tried to follow the dog into the water, holding her dress up so it wouldn’t get wet. She displayed quite a bit of her enticingly long, shapely legs as she tried to coax the dog out of the water.

  She had nearly come within a hand’s reach of him when he turned with a great splash and leaped into the deeper water, heedless of the hat still in his mouth. Adriana let out another screech, but this one sounded less like a laugh than the others.

  Morgan decided it was time he took matters into his own hands.

  “Oberon, come!” he said in his most masterful voice.

  The dog continued swimming across the river.

  “Come, Oberon, now!” Morgan tried again.

  “Oh, he is going to ruin my hat, Morgan. Can’t you make him listen?” Adriana said, taking another hesitant step forward. The bottom few inches of her dress was now hanging into the water.

  There didn’t seem to be anything else for it. Morgan pulled off his own boots and stockings and ran past Adriana, heedless of his own clothing. Adriana gave another little shriek as he splashed past her.

  Morgan dove into the cool, refreshing water, swimming up under his dog. In one swift movement, he had the dog on his shoulders, and turned around heading back to the shore.

  Adriana’s beautiful tinkling laugh greeted him as he sloshed to the shore. She reached up to take her hat from the dog’s mouth, and at the same time waved a finger in his face. “That should teach you a lesson in manners.”

  Her laughing green eyes slid down to Morgan’s and then her lovely smiling face turned bright pink as they moved lower—to take in his wet shirt and breeches.

  Morgan, too, noticed that quite a bit more of Adriana’s dress had become wet and was clinging to her shapely body. He felt a stirring as his blood heated.

  He turned and knelt to the ground to put Oberon down. When he turned back around, Adriana had begun to rub her hands up and down her arms as if she were cold.

  Morgan picked up his boots and stockings and placed his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go build a fire and dry off.”

  She nodded, but did not look his way. With a slight coloring of her cheeks, she picked up her ownstockings and rolled them up to keep them from his sight.

  After slipping her bare feet back into her slippers, Adriana allowed Morgan to lead her back toward his cabin. Oberon followed at their heels, his head lowered slightly as if he were ashamed that he got too carried away by his game.

  Morgan stacked a few dry pieces of wood in the clearing in front of his cottage, and lit the fire with his tinderbox—deliberately not even thinking about trying to light the fire magically.

  Sitting on a log near the fire, Adriana reached out her hands to its growing warmth. Morgan settled himself on the ground next to her and stretched out his legs so that his breeches didn’t become too tight as they dried on his body. Already he could feel the leather stiffening as it began to dry.

  “Will you tell me some more about your home i
n London?” he asked, hoping to relieve some of the awkwardness that had suddenly sprung up between them.

  Adriana shrugged. “What more is there to tell?”

  “You said that you run your guardian’s household. Is there much work in this?”

  “Well, part of my duties include arranging parties for Lord Devaux so that he may meet and talk with other members of parliament,” Adriana said, tucking a lock of her beautiful hair back into the knot on the back of her head. Morgan wished she would just open it so he could run his fingers through the silky tresses.

  He forced his mind to stay focused on what she was telling him.

  “Parties? That must be fun.” Morgan couldn’t help the touch of jealousy that crept into his voice. How wonderful it must be to live in a big city and have parties!

  But oddly enough, it was a rather sad smile that came to Adriana’s full pink lips. “I wouldn’t go quite that far. They are not the sort of parties where one dances and talks to friends.”

  Morgan watched Adriana’s beautiful eyes as she spoke. They kept straying down his body, and at the moment, were lingering on his shirt. A thrill ran through him as he looked down and noticed that it was nearly transparent and clinging to his body, since it was still soaking wet. She was as attracted to him as he was to her!

  “These parties,” she continued after a moment, “are for the sheer purpose of making political connections or pressing an idea onto other members of parliament.” Her voice slowed, and she stopped speaking altogether. Then, abruptly, she turned her head away from him, and stared into the fire. “My guardian gives me a list of people he wants me to invite and I make all the proper arrangements.”

  “You don’t get to invite your own friends as well?” he asked. He knew he should be feeling chilled in his wet clothes, but the heat inside of him was too intense.

  Adriana shook her head and smiled, keeping her eyes trained on the fire. Morgan wondered at her not even daring to look back at him. He wished she would, just so he could see the desire in her eyes once more.

  He too turned to the fire, determined to listen to her words and not to his heart.

  “I don’t have any friends. I don’t attend society parties, and therefore don’t know many people my own age. I only attend Lord Devaux’s parties to act as hostess for him.”

  “Oh.” Morgan was amazed. Even living in London, surrounded by people, she was as lonely as he.

  But Adriana turned toward him with deliberate brightness. “It’s not all boring and difficult work, however. There are a great many people whom we entertain who are quite amusing.”

  “In what way?” Morgan asked, marveling at how she could set aside her loneliness and still see the bright side of her life.

  “Frequently, the gentlemen we invite are very important men—or men who want to be important. And they’re often very huffy gentlemen.” She spread out her arms to indicate a very large man and blew out her cheeks. Her eyes now twinkling with merriment, and speaking in a deep voice, she said, “Well, er, yes, my dear gel, of course a pretty little mite like you could never understand the intricacies of, er, social reform, eh? Heh, heh, heh, why don’t you run along and, er, pour the tea or, er, work on your little sewing project like a good gel.”

  Morgan laughed. He could imagine a large gentleman, his face mostly covered with side burns, such as he’d seen illustrated in the papers Kat sometimes brought to him.

  “And the ladies, their wives,” Adriana continued to the fire, “many of them are quite in awe of their husbands. They twitter and giggle, and say things like,” she switched to a high, tittery voice, “’Oh, my, how marvelous it is that my lord is doing such wonderful things for the little people.’ And then they go on to discuss the latest fashions and how they have spent hundreds of pounds on their newest gowns—not even realizing that the work their husbands are doing will not help the ‘little people’ at all, but are solely for their own benefit so they can buy their expensive clothes.”

  Morgan shook his head, smiling.

  Adriana shifted away from the heat of the fire, accidentally brushing her leg against his. Instantly, desire uncoiled itself inside him once again. She turned and looked at him, the smile slipping from her lips. As their eyes met, he was surprised at the open flame of yearning reflected in her deep green eyes.

  He reached out and gently caressed her cheek, running his thumb along her cheekbone and down to her parted lips. Her eyes widened, and her chest began to rise and fall with her quickened breaths.

  The fire in front of them let out a sizzle as a drop of rain fell into it. A large plop landed next to Morgan’s foot, and then another on his shoulder, but neither of them paid it any heed.

  “Part of my duties as hostess is being able to discuss everything that is currently under consideration in Parliament,” she said, a little breathlessly.

  “That is fascinating,” Morgan said, pulling her head closer to his own. He could feel the heat emanating from her body and smell her distinctive scent of wildflowers.

  His lips were nearly upon hers when she pulled back and added, “All of the ladies are not quite so silly. There are actually a few who are interested in what their husbands are doing and are not afraid to speak their minds.”

  “That’s good,” Morgan said, moving in closer again. Then, with hardly any warning at all, as Morgan was making another attempt at a kiss, a gust of wind blew into his face, and with it, rain began pelting down in earnest.

  Morgan froze for a moment. He hadn’t even seen the clouds moving in—he was so intent on Adriana and kissing her. But they couldn’t sit here in the rain. Already they were both soaking wet. He jumped up, reaching for Adriana’s hand. Just as he pulled her to her feet, a low rumble of thunder shook the ground. He ran with her to his cottage, as a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the ever darkening sky.

  Morgan immediately moved to build a fire in the hearth, turning back to Adriana as soon as he had a blaze going. She was standing looking around, her arms wrapped around her slender body.

  He, too, looked around his home and wondered how it looked to her. Of course, she was used to the grandeur of the abbey and probably had one of the nicer carpeted bedrooms there.

  Morgan had no carpet, but rather a plain wood floor. This was matched by the rough–hewn table and lone chair that sat by it, both of which he had made himself. His bedstead stood off against the far wall, a small simple washstand next to it. The cottage was tidy, but then again there wasn’t much to clutter it up.

  Adriana hugged her shivering body and moved closer to the fire.

  Morgan stood up, and on instinct, wrapped his arms around her.

  Adriana started, but Morgan hushed her saying, “My heat will warm you.”

  She laughed. “Perhaps, but your clothes are cold and wet.”

  He quickly pulled away from her. “I’m sorry. I forgot.” Quickly he pulled off his shirt and then pulled the blanket off his bed. “You would be warmer if you took off your wet clothes too.”

  Adriana took a step back toward the door, her eyes wide and her face turning pink.

  “It is all right,” he said, moving closer and looking deeply into her eyes. Gently placing his hand on her cheek, he gave her a little smile and said, “There is nothing to fear.”

  Fourteen

  Tatiana could feel her son Jonathan’s presence just outside her bed chamber door long before he knocked. What was it he had to say to her that would keep him standing outside for so long before he gathered up his courage to knock? She had only been back from her trip to Bath for less than a day, so he must have something important to report to her.

  She waited patiently for him to knock. “Come in, Vallentyn,” she called, as soon as he had done so.

  He shuffled into the room, his head bowed. He would not look her in the eye. This was another bad sign.

  “Good afternoon, Mother,” he said, and turned to look out the window, as if he were checking to make sure that it was still light enough
to call it afternoon.

  “Good afternoon. To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked, as sweetly as she could, hoping to encourage him to drop his defensive stance.

  “I, er...” he glanced quickly in her direction where she was sitting on the settee by the fire, but then just as quickly, turned his eyes away. “I wished to speak with you.”

  “So I assumed when you knocked at my door.”

  “Er, yes.”

  “What do you wish to speak to me about, Jonathan?” Tatiana asked, beginning to feel her patience ebb away.

  “I, er, well,” Jonathan took a deep breath and then said very quickly, “I do not wish to marry Miss Hayden. I am the viscount, I am the one in charge here and I say that I will not marry her. I will remain a bachelor.” He released what was left of his breath.

  He then turned and, much to Tatiana’s surprise, began to leave without waiting for her to say, or do, anything—as if that were the end of the conversation.

  If this were funny, Tatiana would have laughed. Unfortunately for her son, she did not find it amusing in the least.

  As Jonathan began to open the door, it pulled from his hand, slamming itself shut. Jonathan jumped back, startled, but unharmed.

  Tatiana could feel her anger rise. She did not want to hurt her first born, her only true son, but it seemed as if he was not going to give her much of a choice in the matter.

  “You are the viscount? The lord of the manor? The one in charge?” Tatiana repeated very slowly to her son’s back.

  Silence.

  “I thought that you had learned, Jonathan. You have never crossed me before. What has caused this extreme lack of judgment?” The air in the room began to get hot as Tatiana’s anger grew.

  “Is it Miss Hayden?” she continued, ignoring the fire in the hearth that had begun to burn larger and brighter. “Surely she could not have put you up to this. You know better than to listen to a girl who does not know me or what I am capable of doing.” The last she was careful to say slowly and deliberately.