“That isn’t fair. That isn’t right,” he said, his voice coming out low with anger.
But she, brave thing, just shook her head. “It is only what Lord Devaux said he would do if I refused to marry Vallentyn. I can’t fault him for carrying through with his threat. I knew he would.”
“But this isn’t right, Adriana! You love to paint and draw.”
She gave him the saddest little smile—a smile! “It’s my life. I feel... I feel as if my right arm has been cut off. The pain... it’s almost too much.”
In one sweep of his arm, he crushed her against his chest. Fury didn’t come close to describing how he felt. This was wrong. How could Lord Devaux do this to her? What sort of man could punish someone in this way?
But Adriana separated herself. “No, Morgan, please.”
Never had he seen anyone hurting so much, and trying so hard to be strong. Adriana was an incredible woman.
He wracked his mind for something he could do, something he could say that would help her. Was there nothing with which he could cheer her, at least?
“I have good news,” he said, attempting to lighten his voice.
She blinked a few times and looked up, hopefully.
“I have learned that my powers come from something within me, something that has changed. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m trying to figure it out.”
Adriana didn’t say anything.
“And I’ve also learned that whatever my destiny is, it involves helping people. I don’t know how yet, but I’m determined to find out.”
She still said nothing, but the hopeful look in her eyes had faded.
“I’m thinking that perhaps I can find more Vallen, maybe with Lord Byron’s help, and question them,” he continued.
Her lips began to purse together, as if she was holding something back.
“And you do remember that we are invited to the theatre on Thursday? That’s going to be...”
“How can you be so cruel?” she whispered fiercely, finally bursting out with it.
Morgan stopped. “Cruel?”
“Throwing your freedom in my face? Is it not enough that I’ve had my drawing taken away from me? You have to remind me that I am a prisoner as well? You know that I can’t go to the theatre with you. I can’t leave this house. I have no freedom to move about as I please. My God, I’m lucky I’m allowed to leave my room at all, and that is only because Lord Devaux still expects me to run his house for him and I can’t do that if I’m locked into my room.”
Morgan didn’t know what to say. He was stunned by her words, but even more so, by her anger. It seemed to be directed at him.
“I don’t mean to hurt you, Adriana. I want to help.” And then he had a wonderful idea. “I know, I can bring you pencil and paper...”
“No!” She looked away for a moment as if trying to figure out how to speak to this idiot—to him. “If you do that, and I’m discovered with them, Lord Devaux will think Henrietta brought them to me and she’ll be sent away. I couldn’t do that to her!”
Oh. He hadn’t thought of that. “Well, is there nothing...?”
“No. There is nothing that you can do.” Adriana’s breathing became harder, more labored, as if she had just been walking too quickly. “All that you can do is to go away, Morgan. Take your freedom, and your magic, and get away from me. If it hadn’t been for you showing me what you can do—if you had never told me to be careful of your mother, that she might hurt me—I would never have broken off my engagement with Lord Vallentyn. I would be happily living in ignorance. I would, at least, have had some chance at freedom. Now, because of you, I have nothing.”
He stood rock still. He wasn’t even certain he was breathing or his heart was still beating. She wanted him to leave? She blamed all this on him? But...
“Leave, Morgan,” Adriana said, a cold, hard expression in her glaring eyes. “Go away, and never come back!”
<><><>
He didn’t need her. He had Kat, and Cosmina, and Nestor. He certainly didn’t need Adriana.
But she had no one, a voice quietly whispered in his ear. And now, she didn’t even have her painting.
He could only imagine what she must be going through. No wonder she had lashed out at him. No wonder she was hurt and angry.
But she needn’t have hurt him. He’d only wanted to help.
But how could he?
Maybe she was right. Maybe it would be better if he never saw her again.
Morgan leaned his arms on the edge of Lord Byron’s theatre box, and tried to pay attention to the play. It wasn’t easy. Paying attention to anything hadn’t been easy for the past three days. Adriana was all he could think about. The pain inside of her had been intense. He’d never felt anything like that before. And her anger—all of it directed at him, as if it had been he who had taken away her drawing materials, as if he had locked her into that house.
But she shouldn’t have treated him the way she had. It wasn’t his fault. He had tried to help her, to soothe her, but what had he gotten in response? A slap of angry words.
No, he certainly didn’t need that.
Cosmina had said he was better off without someone who would hurt him and who clearly only thought of herself. Nestor had agreed, but only because Adriana couldn’t do anything to help with his magic.
He hadn’t told Kat. He knew she and Adriana were friends, and although he was sure her loyalties would lie with him, he didn’t want to put her into an awkward situation. But Nestor and Cosmina’s reassurances hadn’t made him feel any better.
Perhaps nothing would make him feel better—nothing but putting Adriana and her sweet smile behind him. Yes, that’s what he would do. He didn’t need her, after all.
A gentle slap on his back startled Morgan out of his reverie, and he noticed everyone was standing and applauding. The play must be over. He had dreamed his way through the entire thing.
“Well? Magnificent, isn’t he?” Lord Byron was saying.
“Oh, yes. Absolutely,” Morgan agreed, just for politeness’ sake.
“Had you completely enthralled, I could tell,” Lord Byron laughed. “You hardly moved a muscle the entire time.”
Morgan gave a noncommittal little shrug of his shoulders and smiled ruefully. He could never admit he hadn’t paid the least attention to the play.
“Come, let’s meet Kean.”
Lord Byron led the way out of the box and down the hallway in the opposite direction from the rest of the crowd. They slipped through a door, and then down a flight of stairs.
The space behind the stage was crowded with actors going here and there, members of the crew carrying pieces of scenery and he didn’t know what else.
Lord Byron pulled him away from the hubbub and down a slightly quieter corridor. A knock on a door, and they entered a room that looked very much out of place in a busy theatre. It looked to be more like a comfortable parlor than anything else. Mr. Kean stepped out from behind a screen in the back of the room, partially dressed.
“Ah, Mr. Vallentyn, Byron! Good evening to you! Good evening,” Mr. Kean welcomed them warmly, his arms open wide. “Tell me, how did you like our little play?” he clapping his hands together and looking pointedly at Morgan.
“Er, I liked it very much, thank you. Very much, indeed,” Morgan lied.
“He didn’t move a muscle throughout the entire performance, Edmund,” Lord Byron laughed.
Mr. Kean burst into laughter as well. “Good! Good! That’s the way I like my audience, paralyzed with rapt attention.”
He laughed at his own joke.
A gentle knock on the door interrupted him, and one of the most lovely women Morgan had ever seen walked into the room. She looked a bit shy at first, but stole a glance up at Morgan.
He suddenly felt as if every drop of blood in his body had dried up, but then, just as quickly, it reappeared, churning and rushing through his veins like the stream after a heavy rain.
“Sarah, what a pleasant sur
prise!” Mr. Kean said warmly to the young woman. “What may I do for you?”
“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, Mr. Kean,” she said in a slow, quiet voice that slid like liquid silver over Morgan’s skin. “I couldn’t help but notice you had guests this evening,” she glanced over at Morgan. “I was wondering if you would honor me with an introduction?”
Mr. Kean raised his eyebrows and gave her a little knowing smile. “I would be happy to.” He turned toward Lord Byron saying, “My lord, you have had the pleasure of meeting Miss Jordan, have you not?”
“On many very happy occasions,” Lord Byron said with a small bow.
“It is good to see you again, my lord,” Miss Jordan said, giving him a little curtsey. She then took a few steps closer to Morgan and the room suddenly seemed to be much too overcrowded for Morgan’s taste. “And who is this handsome stranger?” she asked.
“Ah, this is my new friend, Mr. Morgan Vallentyn,” Kean said with a sly smile on his face and broad wink to Morgan.
Sarah’s eyes widened, showing their deep blue depths, her perfect pink mouth opened to form a perfect O.
“Mr. Vallentyn, Miss Sarah Jordan,” Mr. Kean said, finishing the introduction.
Morgan bowed to the woman and she executed a graceful curtsy for him.
She then gave Morgan a most dazzling smile. “Mr. Vallentyn, it is indeed an honor to meet you. I’ve always wanted to meet a truly powerful Vallen,” she said, slowly moving forward so that by the time she finished speaking, she was gently laying her hand on Morgan’s chest in the most intimate manner.
Morgan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blond beauty, nor did he think he would ever want to. Oddly enough, he wasn’t certain that his mind was working quite the way it normally did. He felt thick and slow—as opposed to another part of his anatomy, which had certainly thickened and was growing harder with each passing moment he was in the presence of this incredibly beautiful woman.
“That, that is very kind of you, Miss, er...”
“Jordan, but please, call me Sarah,” she said, her voice becoming just the tiniest bit raspy as if there was a great passion within her she was desperately trying to control.
Morgan nodded. “Sarah. It is a beautiful name. You are Vallen too?” he asked, just beginning to grasp that she knew that he was one.
“Oh, yes. But alas, I am not very powerful at all. I wish I were. I want to be a great actress and have the ability to enthrall my audience the way Mr. Kean does.”
“I’m sure if you keep working at it, you’ll be able to do very well,” Morgan said, encouragingly. He was immediately glad he did, for Sarah, in her pleasure at his words, pressed herself against him and gave him a warm hug.
“Thank you, Mr. Vallentyn. You are so kind to say so—oh!”
This last exclamation, Morgan was certain, came from the fact that she had pressed herself right up against his manhood, which was now straining against the flap of his breeches.
Morgan felt his face burn. “I beg your pardon!” he said, and quickly extracted himself from her embrace.
Her cheeks also turned a pretty shade of pink and her eyes slipped downwards. “That’s perfectly all right,” she giggled. “I do sometimes have that effect on men.”
“Sometimes?” Mr. Kean said, laughing. “Try all the time. You have to be very careful, Mr. Vallentyn. Our Sarah, here, is quite, er...”
“Intoxicating,” Lord Byron finished for him.
“Excellent word! Yes, intoxicating.” He gave Morgan a knowing smile.
Morgan looked back at Sarah, but she didn’t seem to mind the turn in conversation at all—she seemed to revel in it.
“Well, if you’d like to taste some more, Mr. Vallentyn, you need only to come knock on my door. I live just around the corner. It is the house with blue shutters, number 64.” She gave him a broad smile and a wink, before gracefully flowing from the room.
“I’m terribly sorry about that, Mr. Vallentyn,” Mr. Kean said. “I certainly did not inform Sarah you would be here, nor did I intend for you to meet... well, Miss Hayden is a lovely young lady,” he finished weakly, which was very unusual for him. It caught Morgan’s attention.
He was still staring at the closed door, but he quickly called himself to order, especially upon hearing Adriana’s name. “Er, thank you, but she and I, well, we aren’t... It was very nice to meet Miss, er, Sarah.”
“Oh? I do apologize, I had thought...”
“No apology necessary. Your assumption would have been correct, except that Adriana informed me a few days ago that she no longer wished to see me,” he said, finding it didn’t hurt quite as much now as it had even earlier that evening.
“I am terribly sorry,” Mr. Kean said, looking concerned.
“Well, I am not going to continue to brood over it,” Morgan said forcefully, for himself as much as his new found friends.
“Certainly not,” Mr. Kean said.
“Perhaps you should take Sarah up on her offer, in that case. You will not regret it, I assure you,” Lord Byron said, with a small smile playing on his lips.
Morgan frowned, wondering just how well Lord Byron knew the young lady. The heat of anger began to build up within him when Kean put a calming hand on his arm.
“Here, now, Mr. Vallentyn, you are still under Sarah’s enthrall. Just calm yourself down.”
He pulled his eyes away from Lord Byron with some difficulty, and turned towards Mr. Kean. “Sarah’s enthrall?”
“Why, yes, didn’t you realize? That’s how her magic works—she enthralls men. Gets them all riled up, hot and aching for her. I can’t tell you how many men have fought duels over the girl. But it is her magic, that is all.”
Morgan shook his head. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t been aware that Sarah had used magic on him. He hadn’t sensed it at all. He’d only felt... as Mr. Kean said, all riled up.
“That is why I hadn’t intended for you to meet, but now I suppose there was no harm done. And there is certainly nothing wrong with a little, er, riling every so often, now is there?” Mr. Kean said, laughing. “But for now, what say you to a nice dinner and a bottle of wine?” he continued, quickly moving toward finishing dressing.
“Ah, yes,” Lord Byron said, “I’ve just the place in mind.”
Twenty Nine
Very well done, Mary,” Tatiana said, impressed. “I almost despaired of your ability to handle this, but you have done very well, my dear, very well.”
Mary frowned, and said in a testy tone, “Of course I was able to handle this. It was not so very difficult after all.”
“Oh, no? Tell me all,” Tatiana said, settling herself on her sofa.
“Well, I followed him, as we agreed I should,” Mary began. “He sat in Lord Byron’s box, which is very close to my own, so it was not so easy to see him during the show. But during the intermission and afterwards, I waited for him just outside. He didn’t leave the box during the intermission, as some people came to visit with Lord Byron, but after the show, they went backstage, just as you thought they would.”
Tatiana handed Mary a cup of tea.
She stirred it quietly for a moment, then continued, “The rest was very easy. I simply found Miss Jordan in her dressing room and gave her your note. She had no problem going into Mr. Kean’s dressing room and when she came out she gave me a smile and a wink, so I knew that everything was all set.”
“Very good. Very good!” Tatiana helped herself to a cream cake. “No man can resist Sarah. She is a talented Vallen,” she laughed.
Mary gave her a little smile. “What is it that Miss Jordan does? What is her power?”
Tatiana smiled at her daughter. “She is a seductress. No man can say no to her, whatever she asks of them.”
Mary’s eyes grew wide. “That’s quite a skill to have.”
“It is a very useful one,” Tatiana agreed.
Mary sipped at her tea. “So what have you asked her to do to Morgan?”
Tatiana scowled at her
thick headed daughter. “I told her to do whatever is necessary to turn his eyes away from Adriana. What did you think, fool?”
Mary flinched at the careless insult that whipped from Tatiana’s tongue. Someday, Tatiana prayed, someday she wished just one of her children would show some semblance of intelligence.
“So when will Vallentyn wed? Do you already have everything arranged?” Mary asked, rubbing at her arm.
The remnants of Tatiana’s rage began to burn once more. “No,” she hissed. “Your brother was unable to convince Adriana to marry him. Even that imbecile Devaux couldn’t force the chit to the altar.”
She stood up and walked to the fireplace. With a careless wave of her hand, she made a blazing fire appear. “I am surrounded by incompetent men!”
Mary was watching the fire with wide eyes that she then turned to Tatiana. “So what are you going to do? How will you get Morgan back to the forest?”
Tatiana picked up the poker and tapped it against her hand, thinking. “Sarah will use her delicious wiles on our dear boy. There is no way he cannot be entranced by her. So all we need to do...” Tatiana could feel the heat of her anger turn into a warmth of satisfaction, “...is make certain that Adriana is kept informed of her lover’s whereabouts. Who he has seen, and exactly what he was doing.”
“How will that help?” Mary asked, looking completely baffled.
Tatiana sighed and explained it all in painstaking detail for her daughter, and then wondered how she’d managed to have seven children without one of them inheriting her intelligence.
<><><>
“Mr. Vallentyn! What a very pleasant surprise,” Sarah said, moving from the pale pink sofa to greet him.
“Good evening. I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said, suddenly feeling a little shy.
Magic In The Storm Page 26