“You are...?” Mrs. Lunden asked, hesitating.
Mr. Nestor jumped in, finally taking his eyes off of Morgan. “Lady Vallentyn is a very important member of society, Mrs. Lunden.”
“Oh! Why didn’t you tell me that to begin with, sir?”
“I didn’t know that it was significant,” Morgan said, realizing, as he did so, that he was acknowledging his relationship with his mother. He also didn’t mention his mother’s position in society because, until Mr. Nestor had said so, he hadn’t known of it himself.
“Why, yes, of course it is significant,” the woman laughed, now suddenly all smiles and warmth.
“Then perhaps you could see to lowering the rent we were discussing?” Cosmina asked hopefully.
“Oh, well,” Mrs. Lunden hesitated for a moment, “yes. Yes, of course. There is a Lord Vallentyn, I assume? And your family’s estate is in Berkshire?” she asked, turning back to Morgan.
“Yes, ma’am. My brother is Lord Vallentyn. He manages the estate—Vallentyn Abbey and the farms surrounding it.”
“There are other properties?” she asked hopefully.
Morgan nodded, not entirely certain why she was so interested.
“Oh, well, that is all right. Yes, that’s just fine,” she said, fanning her hand in front of her face. “For the brother of a...” she paused, and looked expectantly at Morgan.
“A viscount,” Mr. Nestor supplied helpfully.
“Yes,” Mrs. Lunden nodded and smiled again. “For the brother of a viscount, I suppose we could lower the rent, to begin with. Just until you find your feet, Mr. Vallentyn, or perhaps apply to your brother for more funds?”
Morgan opened his mouth to say he would never ask his brother for money, when Cosmina laughed gaily and said, “Oh, yes, of course. It will be no problem, no problem at all, Mrs. Lunden.”
The lady stood up. “Very good, then. I will just see to your rooms. Perhaps Mr. Nestor could tell you the house rules while I do so?”
Mr. Nestor gave her a little bow. “My pleasure.” He then held the door open for her, and closed it firmly behind her.
“What do you know of my family, sir?” Morgan asked, turning to face Mr. Nestor.
He supposed that his expression had become one of suspicion, because Mr. Nestor took a step back and began to wring his hands nervously. “Nothing! Nothing. Well, reputation, you know. Only what is generally known in the er... well among those...”
“Among whom?” Morgan asked sharply, taking a step toward the slender man.
“Well,” Mr. Nestor began and then looked meaningfully at Cosmina.
“You may speak freely in front of Cosmina,” Morgan said, following his eyes.
Mr. Nestor released his breath.
“Among whom?” Morgan asked again, when he didn’t begin speaking immediately.
“Well, among the gifted, shall we say?” Mr. Nestor said quietly, still glancing toward Cosmina.
“There are others who can heal as Morgan can?” Cosmina asked, quite surprised.
Morgan gave Cosmina a hard look. “Cosmina!” He had trusted her not to disclose his abilities to anyone, but he had not expressly forbidden her to do so. That might have been a serious mistake.
“It is all right, Mr. Vallentyn. I know,” Mr. Nestor said quietly, bringing a nervous smile to his lips.
If the smile was supposed to be reassuring, Morgan thought to himself, it turned out to be just the opposite. “What do you know?” Morgan asked.
“I know you are Vallen,” Mr. Nestor said very quietly. “And judging by your parents, I would say you are a very powerful one. It does not surprise me to learn that you can heal people.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Morgan said, trying to look as innocent as he could.
Mr. Nestor gave him a sly look, a sort of half smile that plainly said, you don’t have to play the innocent, you and I both know what I’m talking about.
“There is no need to hide it from me, Mr. Vallentyn,” he said. “I am Vallen too,” he added in a whisper that, although very quiet, could be heard quite clearly.
Morgan turned away from Mr. Nestor and Cosmina. It was not possible. There were no other Vallen besides his family—were there? No! If there had been, then why would he have been told expressly never to reveal his powers to anyone? And why would Kat have never told him?
Morgan laughed out loud as he turned around again. “I do not know what sort of game you are playing, Mr. Nestor...”
“I am playing no game, sir,” he said in a normal tone of voice. Indeed, the man looked very serious, if a bit twitchy.
A chill ran up Morgan’s arms. “Did my mother send you here? How did she find out so quickly?” Morgan moved to the window and looked out onto the small street on which the house was situated.
There was no one there. The street was reassuringly empty, the sky above clouded over, pale white. Morgan wondered if his face was the same color.
“I... I do not know your mother personally.” Mr. Nestor’s voice shook. “I don’t know what she knows or does not know.”
“Do not lie to me, sir!” Morgan said, swinging around and advancing on the man. He was beginning to lose his patience, and could feel his anger coiling up within him.
“I assure you, Mr. Vallentyn...” Mr. Nestor quickly took two steps back away from him.
“Morgan, how could he have been sent by your mother? He says he doesn’t know her,” Cosmina said, as if she were cajoling a child into behaving properly.
Morgan looked over at her. She, too, was looking a little frightened, but her eyes were pleading with him to calm down. He took a deep breath, and moved back toward the window.
He heard Mr. Nestor heave a sigh of relief. “I assure you, Mr. Vallentyn, all I know of your mother is what I have heard from other Vallen. That she is extremely powerful and the High Priestess of the Coven of England. That is all.”
“Coven? You are witches, then?” Cosmina asked, looking from one man to the other.
“No—” Morgan started to say.
“Not at all, ma’am!” Nestor said in disgusted tones. “Witches and warlocks are frauds, fakes. They have been attempting to copy us and our ways for centuries, and have only managed to get many true Vallen killed. We help mankind. We bring science, art and music to this world. We lead, entertain and invent. That is why we are here, that is what we do,” he ended with a flourish of his voice.
“And witches?” Cosmina prompted.
Mr. Nestor sneered. “Witches pretend to have power—they have none. They scare people, cavort with the devil, and give the Vallen a bad name.”
Cosmina looked impressed. Even Morgan hadn’t known all that Mr. Nestor had just said. In fact, Morgan was beginning to understand just how much he didn’t know.
“I didn’t realize there were others,” Morgan admitted. “My mother is the high priestess, you said?”
“You did not know?” Mr. Nestor asked, turning and looking completely dumbfounded at Morgan.
“No. But then, I have never been taught anything about... about this.”
“Your mother has never taken you to a coven meeting?”
“No.”
Mr. Nestor shook his head sadly. “Even I was brought to coven meetings even though I’m a very weak Vallen.” He paused for a moment. “You can heal?” he asked.
Morgan nodded hesitantly.
“And move things with his mind,” Cosmina added helpfully.
Morgan scowled at her. He was really going to have to speak with her about confidences.
Mr. Nestor waved off that comment, “Even the weakest of us can do that.”
“Oh, but Morgan only just learned, and he threw a man four feet or more without even touching him.”
That peaked Mr. Nestor’s interest. “How is that?”
Morgan shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. “I just imagined him flying through the air away from me...”
“No, no,” Mr. Nestor interrupted. “What does she mean
, you just learned?”
“Oh,” Morgan shrugged again. “My powers are only beginning to show themselves. I suppose I’m just a little slow in my development for some reason.” He tried to mask his embarrassment, but there was nothing he could do about the pink stain he noticed in his cheeks when he caught his reflection in the mirror above the fire place.
Mr. Nestor shook his head. “I do not understand. Powers do not develop, we have what we have from birth.”
“Yes, but for some reason I have not had my full powers until now. It is one reason why I’m here in London, to see what I can learn about this, and how I can speed up the process of attaining all the powers that I should have—if that’s possible.”
Mr. Nestor seemed to be at a loss. He had clearly never heard of such a thing—but then he, himself said, that he wasn’t a very powerful Vallen. Maybe this was something only the powerful knew about.
Morgan tried his best to stay positive, to keep his hopes up.
Eighteen
I wish I could help you,” Mr. Nestor said, spreading his hands open.
“Do you know of any other Vallen who might be able to help?” Cosmina asked, taking the words right from Morgan’s mouth.
The man shook his head sadly. “You would need to consult with someone very powerful...” he paused and thought for a moment. “The only person who might know would be... your mother.”
“No!” It nearly came out as a shout. With the word, Morgan’s locked onto Mr. Nestor’s. “You will not inform my mother or anyone that I am here. No one is to know you have even met me. Do you understand?” The heat of anger mixed with his magical energy to flow like lava through his body.
Mr. Nestor’s blinked once and then shook his head. “No, I will never say a word to anyone.” He then shook his head and blinked again, this time looking down at the thread–bare carpet.
His eyes then flipped up to meet Morgan’s once again. “My God, you... I heard it. I heard your voice in my head. It was as if I was thinking what you said.”
“You did? I put a suggestion into your mind?” Morgan was thrilled, but his heart was still pounding at the thought that this man might still be able to tell his mother where he was.
“Yes,” Mr. Nestor said, and then gave an awed smile. “I’ve never met anyone who could do that.”
“But it is working?” Morgan asked. He didn’t know strong his suggestion might be—strong enough, he hoped. He could not afford for his mother to find out he was here.
“Oh yes, I can most definitely feel it there.”
“Good.” Morgan relaxed. “I’ve only done it once before.”
“Well, you seem to have done a good job of it.”
“You don’t know any other powerful Vallen?” Cosmina asked, clearly not grasping the importance of what Morgan had just done. In fact, he was a little awed by it himself. Putting suggestions into someone’s mind strong enough that they heard it as their own thoughts was pretty powerful magic.
A tinge of excitement thrummed through him.
He could do powerful magic. He could do it at will. Was he actually getting his true powers? Did he have them already? How did this happen? Well, he was almost too scared to ask that. He was just so grateful that it was—and just in time too. He had to have his full powers within the month!
Something Mr. Nestor was saying caught his attention. “There are different covens for Vallen of differing abilities?” Morgan asked.
Mr. Nestor turned to him. “Well, not different covens, exactly. More like different meetings of the same coven. And it is just in London, and I suppose other big cities that they do this—where the Vallen population is large. It would simply be too unwieldy to have that many Vallen at one meeting. And it would certainly attract a great deal of attention. It’s tricky enough as it is with the number of people at each meeting.”
“How many are there at your meeting?” Cosmina asked.
“About twenty–five,” he answered. “That is at the West–end coven. There would be more, I suppose, but it’s really only the most involved Vallen who even go to the meetings.”
There was a silent moment as Morgan digested this. Over twenty–five Vallen in just this part of London, and they were the weaker ones. “How many Vallen do you suppose there are?”
“In this area or all of London?”
“All of London?” Morgan asked.
“Oh, at least a thousand, probably many, many more. I honestly don’t know.”
The number was staggering. This was an entire people that Morgan had never known about. And to think, he thought that his family were the only ones in the world! He nearly laughed at his own naiveté.
“What about this girl, Morgan? The one you were coming here to meet?” Cosmina asked.
That jolted Morgan right out of his reverie. He had completely forgotten about Adriana. “She’s not Vallen,” Morgan answered quickly.
“But you still need to find her as well.”
“Who is she?” Mr. Nestor asked.
“A young lady of my acquaintance, Miss Adriana Hayden. Her guardian is Lord Devaux,” Morgan answered with no hope whatsoever that Mr. Nestor would have heard of him. Considering the number of people there seemed to be in London, it would be unusual if he had.
But Mr. Nestor was looking very thoughtful. “Devaux. Isn’t he a prominent member of Parliament?”
Morgan perked up. “Yes, he is. Do you know him or know of him?”
“I heard... where was it?” Mr. Nestor snapped his fingers. “Oh, yes, I remember, it was my friend Charlie. He’s valet to Lord Bantham. He was mentioning to me the other day that there was a Lord Devaux going about trying to wangle invitations from society’s top hostesses. I believe he was quite successful, considering his position.”
“Oh.”
“This young lady is his ward?”
“Yes.”
“And you need to find her.”
Morgan nodded.
“Well, in that case, you probably would want to... well, but how would you get an invitation?”
Morgan and Cosmina both looked at him, waiting for him to clarify.
“The best way for you to meet this girl would be at a ball or soiree. But I don’t know how you could get an invitation. Do you think your brother, Lord Vallentyn, might help you?”
“No. I told you, my mother cannot find out I am here. And I don’t believe my brother is in town.”
“Ah, right. Well, then...”
“What if he didn’t go as a guest, but was hired to work at the party?” Cosmina asked.
Mr. Nestor shook his head. “It would take quite a lot of time, not to mention experience, for Mr. Vallentyn to learn how to be a footman and obtain a position in one of the better households.”
“I wasn’t thinking about a footman, but rather a fortune–teller,” she smiled at the two men.
Morgan burst out laughing. “Cosmina, that is wonderful. But I don’t know how to tell fortunes. Foretelling the future is not one of my powers.”
Cosmina shook her head. “You do not need any special powers for this. I assure you my cousin did not. You just make up something that sounds plausible. And with your ability to put ideas into someone’s head, you could do that and they would believe what you told them, no matter what you told them.”
“But that is unethical,” Mr. Nestor protested.
“It is a brilliant idea!” Morgan said, rubbing his hands together and moving to sit down again on the sofa next to Cosmina, ready for his first lesson in fortune telling.
Nineteen
Well, I have done my duty. I have attended the soiree. I have sat here for nearly forty–five minutes, bored beyond belief. Do you think we can go home soon?” Adriana asked, looking around at all of the beautiful people who stood about or danced their way through Lady Collingwood’s overcrowded ball room. At least, at this moment, there was a parting of people and she could see around the ball room. More often than not, her view was obstructed by people standing directl
y in front of her.
“You have not been bored the entire time. You did dance twice,” Henrietta pointed out.
“Yes, and my toes are still aching from that last one,” Adriana scowled as she wriggled her sore toes inside of her slippers. She didn’t know why some form of more sturdy shoe wasn’t worn to these dances, that way it wouldn’t hurt so much when your dancing partner stepped on your toes.
Henrietta smiled consolingly. “No, I’m sorry, but it is not yet time to go.” She indicated with her head the gentleman who was bearing down on them rather purposefully.
Adriana sighed a little too loudly as Lord Vallentyn approached them.
“Ah, here you are, Miss Hayden. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Good evening, Lord Vallentyn,” Adriana said, standing up.
Despite the splendor of his evening clothes, Lord Vallentyn was looking older. Somehow, he also seemed to give the impression of being even more meek than the last time she had seen him. No, Adriana realized, he was simply not meeting her eyes with his own. How odd.
“May I introduce you to my companion, Miss Henrietta Britworth?” Adriana said, looking directly at him and trying to catch his gaze.
Lord Vallentyn briefly nodded his head in Henrietta’s direction before turning back to Adriana. He turned his lips up into a smile, while his eyes darted around the room.
“Were you forced to attend this dreadful party too?” she asked, as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Er, uh, you are looking very pretty tonight,” he said, deliberately ignoring her comment.
Adriana nearly groaned. “Please, my lord, there is no need for that.”
“No need for what, Miss Hayden?” Lord Vallentyn asked looking very confused, and very nearly meeting her eyes. His gaze hovered somewhere in the vicinity of her nose. It was very disconcerting.
“No need to make inane small talk and ridiculous compliments.”
“I did not believe my compliment to be ridiculous. You do look very pretty.” He was now beginning to look a little hurt. Adriana just wanted to shake him.
Magic In The Storm Page 16