“You know I will find out from you either way. Make this easier on both of us and cooperate.”
“I won’t...ma’am.”
Tatiana could feel the girl putting up her weak mental barriers. They were pitiful, but she supposed it was to her own advantage, and the girl was quite powerful in many other ways.
Tatiana raised the girl’s chin with a flick of her finger, but still she wouldn’t raise her eyes. “Did we not have a little talk about this show of weakness?”
“It is not weakness, ma’am, it is...”
“What?”
“Defense,” Kat said quietly.
Tatiana laughed. “You can’t defend yourself against me. Don’t even try. You may be a strong Vallen, Kat, and hopefully by the time you attain your destiny you will become even more powerful, but know that you are no match for me. Now be reasonable. Tell me what I want to know, and I will leave you alone.”
“No! I won’t. I won’t jeopardize Morgan in that way.”
“Very well,” Tatiana said, before infusing her voice with a great deal of power. She would need quite a bit to put a suggestion into Kat’s mind without eye contact—even though her barriers were meager, they still required Tatiana to use more power on her than she ordinarily would. With her voice saturated with magic she said, “Tell me the address where Morgan is staying,”
Kat bit her lip so hard it turned deep red. Her face turned deathly pale as she fought the suggestion.
It was such a simple little piece of information, Tatiana thought to herself. She didn’t want to have to befuddle the girl just for this.
“Tell me where he is staying,” Tatiana said again, her powers reaching out to the girl, willing her to speak the information that she needed.
Kat closed her eyes, fighting the suggestion with everything she had, but it wasn’t enough. Finally, her teeth let go of her lip and the words came out choked, “Dartmouth Street.”
Tatiana backed off. That was all she needed. She didn’t know where this Dartmouth Street was, but it didn’t matter. Her driver would know it, and she would be able to discern which house once she was there. She gave Kat a little pat on her arm. “There now, that wasn’t too difficult. Hopefully, next time when I ask you something, you will be more forthcoming.”
Twenty One
Adriana stood up, her suddenly limp fingers letting her embroidery fall to the floor. “Morgan!”
“Adriana! Please tell this man...”
“Miss Hayden, this man is insisting on seeing you, but he bears no card, nor...” Jackson, Lord Devaux’s butler, and Morgan said at the same time as they both entered the room. Jackson stepped in front of Morgan, deliberately barring his way. They both stopped speaking in mid–sentence as Adriana held up her hand.
“It is all right, Jackson. I know the gentleman,” Adriana said with as much authority as she could command considering her sudden trembling. Whether it was from fear, anger, excitement or simply the fact that Morgan’s dominating presence was in her drawing room, she didn’t know. She just knew she had to clasp her hands together to keep it from being too obvious.
Jackson looked from her to Morgan, and back again. He gave Henrietta a significant nod before turning on his heel, and walking from the room.
In two long strides, Morgan was by her side. He placed his hands on her arms, making tingles and heat rush through her, and a strange calm stopped her heart from beating so quickly. “Adriana, are you all right?”
She was about to say yes, just from habit, but she stopped herself. “No. No, Morgan, I am not all right.”
There was a discreet cough nearby, and Adriana realized she had completely forgotten Henrietta’s presence.
Morgan dropped his hands, taking a step away from her.
“Henrietta Britworth, may I introduce you to...” And then she had to stop. Adriana’s voice suddenly disappeared. It was gone. Her throat had closed up and she could no longer speak. Adriana put her hand to her throat and turned to look at Morgan, panic beginning to lace its way through her chest.
He looked blankly at her for the briefest moment, and then took a deep breath in with realization. Catching her eyes with his own, he placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “I release my hold.”
Immediately, the tightness in her throat was gone. She had to take a step to catch her balance, and was grateful for Morgan’s hand on her elbow.
“What...?” she said, completely confused, and not a little scared.
“I’m sorry. It’s all right now,” Morgan said, his deep baritone voice soothing and calming her once again.
“Adriana?” Henrietta said, looking just as confused as Adriana had felt.
“I’m sorry, Henrietta. This is Morgan... er,” she turned back to him. She didn’t know his last name.
“Vallentyn. I am Morgan Vallentyn. Adriana and I met when she was visiting my family last week,” he finished for her.
“Oh!” Henrietta said, giving Morgan a curtsey and Adriana an odd look. She then looked up at him again and her small brown eyes widened. “Oh! You’re that man! The man in Adriana’s painting!”
Adriana felt her face heat with embarrassment, and then grow even hotter as Morgan turned to look at her, a little smile playing on his lips. “You painted a picture of me?”
“Uh, well, yes,” she admitted reluctantly before giving Henrietta a meaningful look. She wished her companion hadn’t mentioned the painting—he might want to see it, and she couldn’t bear being so embarrassed yet again. Henrietta gave a little shrug and a small apologetic smile, but the twinkle in her eye told Adriana she remembered the painting quite well.
“But that’s not why you came to visit,” Adriana said, getting away from the subject as quickly as she could.
“No.” The expression on Morgan’s faced changed immediately. “No.” Once again he was looking worried and concerned. He turned his eyes to Henrietta and then back to her. “We need to speak—about last night.”
“Yes, we most certainly do!” All of the anger and confusion Adriana had struggled with all night long came rushing back to her. She hadn’t been able to sleep a wink for thinking about all she had witnessed the night before. None of it—not from the moment she had encountered Morgan telling fortunes in Lady Collingswood’s side parlor, to the time he had left her at the door to the ballroom—had made any sense to her at all. She didn’t know what to think about any of it.
But she did know it was not something that either she or Morgan would feel comfortable discussing in front of Henrietta. So far, Adriana hadn’t told her companion anything, and she wasn’t entirely sure she should—mainly because it was all too bizarre to even put into words, let alone any that made sense.
Adriana turned to Henrietta and looked at her pleadingly. “Would you mind, Henrietta, I need to speak with Morgan alone.”
The twinkle immediately disappeared from her companion’s eyes. “I don’t know, Adriana.” She continued to look more and more worried as she thought about it. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, especially considering that paint...”
“Henrietta, I promise to tell you everything—later. Right now, I would appreciate just a few moments... please?” She tried to give Henrietta a reassuring smile.
Adriana knew how much Henrietta loved to be daring, to live at the margin of acceptable behavior—and she desperately hoped her companion wouldn’t decide to change now.
Hesitantly, Henrietta began to move toward the door. “Well, all right. But just for a few minutes. And I am going to leave the door open,” she warned.
“Yes. That’s fine.” And, in fact, it was absolutely fine with Adriana when she thought about all she had witnessed between Morgan and Lady Vallentyn the night before.
As soon as her companion was gone, she turned to Morgan. She could hardly believe he was here—taking up so much space in her little drawing room. It wasn’t just his size, but his whole being that took up all of the space. It was odd, but she didn’t remember him being this wa
y—being so large.
But his eyes were the same. Dark as the deepest night, and just now looking at her with such concern. She nearly melted at his look—and it made it extremely hard to continue to be angry with him. But she steeled herself, remembering an entire night spent tossing and turning on her bed.
“You are all right?” he asked again, taking her hands.
“No, I am not. I want to know what happened last night. No matter how I think of it, it doesn’t make any sense,” she said, shades of anger beginning to blend inside of her. Her head started to ache again just from the memory of the night.
“I’m sorry.” He softly rubbed his thumb against her right temple as if he was aware that her head hurt and knew that this would help. It did. It felt wonderful—warm, caring, and soothing. Adriana couldn’t help it, she closed her eyes and just allowed Morgan to massage away the pain. Her anger faded under his deft fingers.
“Please don’t be upset,” he said after a moment, his voice as soothing as his fingers. “I promise to explain everything to you, just... first tell me that you haven’t seen my mother today or received anything from her.”
“No. Why would I?” Adriana asked, blinking her eyes open again. Her headache had completely disappeared.
He shook his head. “I... I’m just afraid she may try to hurt me through you. Just as she did with the animals in my barn.”
The room around Adriana lost all of its color. “The pox?” she whispered.
Morgan tried to give her a reassuring smile. “I’m certain she wouldn’t give you the pox, but she knows that I care about you, and I don’t want you to be hurt. Please, stay away from her, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. Kat has promised to help as well.”
Kat would protect her? Was she like him? But what... “What are you?” she asked before she realized she was speaking out loud.
Morgan gave her an apologetic little smile. “I’m Vallen.”
“What?”
“Vallen.” He paused and then frowned. “Some people confuse us with witches,” he explained.
Adriana laughed. Her shoulders dropped as the tension slipped out of her. “Please be serious.”
But Morgan hardly cracked a smile. “It’s true. I, my mother, Kat, even my brother, Vallentyn, to some extent. We are all Vallen.”
Adriana could feel the smile fade from her lips. He was serious. “But witches are the stuff of fairytales. They aren’t real.”
Morgan gave a little shrug. “Even fairytales have some grain of truth in them.”
Adriana shook her head. She just could not believe that Morgan was a witch. It was ridiculous. It was silly! Witches didn’t really exist. People couldn’t do magic.
Morgan frowned, clearly hurt by her skepticism. “You don’t believe me. I’ll prove it to you, then.”
Adriana tried to pull her hand away from his, suddenly frightened again. He was so serious, and horrible flashes of what she’d seen last night kept flitting through her mind.
“No, it’s all right, come.” Once again his voice was soft and soothing.
Gently, he pulled her to the French doors behind them leading into the back garden, but she stopped as he was about to go outside into the rain.
“We’ll get wet!”
“No, we won’t. Watch.” He let go of her hand and took a step out the door. Adriana watched in fascination as Morgan stood outside in the rain without one drop falling on him. It all just seemed to bend around him, as if he were holding up an umbrella—only he wasn’t.
He took her hand and pulled her outside to join him under his non–existent umbrella. Laughing at her expression, and then said, “You know, I don’t think it was supposed to rain at all today.” With a wave of his hand, the rain stopped.
Adriana’s world faded once again as she watched the deep gray clouds just skitter away with the wave of his hand. A brilliant blue sky appeared, the dazzling sun shining down on them, warm and full of the expectation of flowers and lovely walks in the park. She was grateful that Morgan was keeping a firm hold on her elbow. In the sudden shimmering heat of the sun–drenched garden, the fresh scent of the earth enveloped them making her feel light–headed.
Morgan bent down to a rose bush next to the door that had not yet bloomed, but was filled with the promise of many deep red blossoms. As he gently cupped his hand under one bud, it burst into bloom, unfolding its petals even as she watched. He then plucked it off the bush.
He handed it to Adriana. Their fingers touched as she took the bloom from him. Small pinpricks shot from his fingers into hers, leaving her hand tingling.
Holding the rose delicately in her shaking hand, she tried to steady her breathing. There was no logical explanation for what he had done.
“Then you really are... you truly are a witch?” she managed to whisper not lifting her eyes from the flower—it all seemed so impossible.
“We prefer the term Vallen. Witches are ordinary people who dabble with potions, but they are not truly magical.”
Morgan watched as Adriana’s green eyes widened with wonder when she finally she lifted them to look him. The gold and red in her auburn hair glinted in the brilliant sunlight. “But, yes, truly. I am Vallen. I am a Vallen who cares for you a great deal.”
He couldn’t resist reaching out and touching her. She was so beautiful even in her awe, and amid her fears. She was strong and brave in a way he couldn’t have expected from anyone else. He ran his hand gently up her cheek and then feathered his lips across hers, leaving a trail of tingles.
A rush of heat went pulsing through his veins as she took a step closer to him. He wrapped his hands around her delicate waist and pulled her close. He needed to feel her, all of her. His lips descended upon hers, pressing his desire into her.
Fire licked at his blood as Adriana opened her mouth and allowed their tongues to dance together. He could feel her arms moving around his neck, as she relaxed and accepted him for who he truly was.
Happiness and joy coursed through him. Now, finally, he could be completely honest with her. How long had he wanted to be able to share his life, his feelings and his problems with her—to show her just how much they had in common. And now, finally, finally, he could.
Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. He wanted to tell her everything, to share everything with her.
“Adriana, I am so happy. Happy to be with you, and to be able to speak with you openly and honestly,” he began.
A frown marred her beautiful face. “You haven’t been honest with me up until now?”
“I haven’t been able to be. But I’ve wanted to.”
“So, why haven’t you?” she said, taking a step away from him.
“I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk telling you.”
“Why? I don’t understand.”
“It’s too dangerous. I wouldn’t have told you now, except you witnessed the fight with my mother. It is very dangerous for people to know I’m Vallen. What if you accidentally tell someone and it gets out? I could be killed. It’s not common any more, but witches are still drowned or burned at the stake, and we are commonly mistaken for them. People are not kind to us, Adriana.”
Adriana focused her eyes on the ground, clearly thinking about this. Slowly she nodded her head. Thank goodness, she understood—but still, the fear that she might tell someone was sharp in his gut.
“You can never tell anyone what we are—my mother, Kat and I—that we have powers,” Morgan said vehemently, adding a touch of magic to his voice.
“I will never tell...” She stopped speaking and raised her eyes up to meet his. “You... what did you do?” she asked, with a tremor in her voice.
“I’m sorry. I put a suggestion into your mind. If you try to tell anyone I’m Vallen, you won’t be able to—just as you couldn’t tell your companion my name until I released my hold.”
“Why did you do that? Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do, I just.... This is so important, Adriana,” He hated usi
ng his magic on her.
“You don’t trust me not to tell anyone.” She was beginning to get angry again. He could feel it sparking out of her, pricking him like tiny little needles.
He didn’t do anything for a full minute, hoping she would calm down. He wanted to trust her. He wanted to so very much, but there was just the slightest hesitation, the little voice in the back of his head telling him to be cautious.
But when he saw tears well in her eyes, they were like a blow to his heart, a knife in his chest.
Placing his hand on her shoulder, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Adriana. I release my hold. You’re right, I should trust you, and I do.” He reached down within himself to see if he was doing the right thing. The voice inside of him still made its warning sounds, but drowning it out was the feeling that this was important. It was a big step, but a significant one—he had to be able to trust Adriana completely, and she needed to know that he did.
“You shouldn’t just force your will onto others. It’s not right,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her.
Morgan nodded. “You’re right. I’m still getting used to having the power to put a suggestion into someone’s mind. I don’t always think about whether I should use it or not.”
“What do you mean, you’re just getting used to having this power?” she asked, clearly confused again.
“I mean, I’ve only recently developed this ability. Somehow, my powers have begun to increase.”
“But how is that possible? Where do your powers come from?”
Morgan gave a little laugh. “I don’t know. Most Vallen are born with whatever power they have. As they use them, their powers get stronger. But for me, I was born only with the power to heal. Now, within the past few weeks, I have been able to do things I never could before. I need to find out how and why, and I need to find someone to teach me to control these abilities. I don’t even know how powerful I am.”
“You don’t?”
“No, and I need to find out, quickly.”
“You’re afraid you’ll hurt someone?”
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