But, oh, how she wished she could tell her dearest friend all about him!
Instead, Adriana shook her head, gave an embarrassed laugh and moved the painting to the far end of the room to dry near the window.
When she returned, Henrietta was looking very hurt. On impulse, Adriana gave her companion a hug.
“Believe me, Henrietta, if I could tell you, I would,” she said quickly. What else could she do?
Henrietta gave her a sad smile, clearly trying hard to be patient.
Adriana sent quick prayer of thanks that Henrietta didn’t press her on the issue as a knock sounded on the door interrupting a potentially awkward moment.
“I’m terribly sorry, Miss,” Sally, one of the downstairs maids said, as she came into the room at Adriana’s bidding. “Lord Devaux gave me this note to give to you this morning and it completely slipped my mind, until now.” She gave Adriana a slight curtsey, a very apologetic look, and then the note.
“It’s all right, Sally, I understand. We’ve all been very busy this morning.”
The girl gave her a grateful smile, and then left the room.
“Judging by the look on your face, it’s not good news,” Henrietta said, as Adriana’s eyes scanned the note.
“No. He says that Lady Vallentyn wants me to start attending society parties. I am to begin with Lady Collingwood’s soiree next Thursday. And he gives me permission to visit the modiste in order to buy one or two appropriate dresses.” She frowned at Henrietta. “Lady Vallentyn wishes me to be dressed fashionably.”
“Well, it could be worse,” Henrietta said, carefully. “And you really could use a few new dresses. I don’t believe you’ve had a new evening gown for over a year.”
“I don’t need a new evening gown...” Adriana started. She let out a sigh, and sat down heavily on to the sofa. “At least, I don’t want to need one.”
Her companion lowered herself next to her, patting her knee consolingly.
“Lord Devaux has never forced me into society, aside from his own dinner parties. I suppose I’ve been very lucky that way.”
“I believe luck has little to do with it. He wants you available at a moment’s notice,” Henrietta said honestly. “But it is why you’ve never met any eligible young men, and now you have to marry this gentleman of Lord Devaux’s choosing, instead of one your own.”
Adriana heartily wished she could refute Henrietta’s words, but she simply could not. She was absolutely right, and it made Adriana sick to her stomach. But there was nothing she could do about it. She really disliked going into society.
“You were fortunate to have been spared this,” Adriana said. “All that bowing and curtseying and inane conversation.” Turning a pleading look to Henrietta, she asked, “Must I do this?”
Her companion gave her a sad little smile. “I was not given the opportunity to join society because of my family’s circumstances. Most girls your age would be devastated not to have such an chance. You are very lucky to be going.”
Adriana let out a choked laugh. “I wish I felt that way. And since when have I been like most girls my age?” She stood, pacing to the window and back while Henrietta stayed silent. She had never been like other girls, and there was no denying it.
“I suppose I’ll have to go no matter what,” Adriana said crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Lord Devaux said I must, so I will. But I will not play the proper miss. I’ll... I’ll stand in the corner and not speak to anyone.”
“Adriana,” Henrietta said, as if she were speaking to a recalcitrant child.
Adriana dropped her arms, knowing that she deserved that full well. “But there must be something that I can do in protest. I cannot simply lie down and let Lady Vallentyn determine what I do for the rest of my life. It has been bad enough that I’ve had to dance to Lord Devaux’s tune since I was six years old.”
Henrietta stood up and took her hand, giving it a little pat. “My poor dear, you will learn that it is the female’s lot in life. There really is nothing you can do about it until you get children of your own whom you can command about in the same way.” She paused for a moment as a mischievous smile grew on her lips. “However, I am certain you will think of some way of showing Lord Devaux your dissatisfaction with this latest development.”
Sixteen
Morgan’s eyes grew wide, and he just could not contain the smile on his face as the fire sprung to life in front of him. It was amazing! How could this have happened? Why were his powers suddenly working? It was a mystery he hoped to solve, but first he had to get to Adriana.
That thought wiped the grin right off of his face. He had been thinking about it all day as he had traveled toward London, and he still could not figure out why she had left him so suddenly. Nor why she had left Vallentyn without even saying goodbye.
He had gone over that night again and again in his mind—and it had made riding on his horse, Apollo, extremely uncomfortable. How could he not react when he thought about how she had pressed her nearly naked body against his? How she had felt, like a burning, writhing fire of soft velvet underneath his hands. He could still feel her feather–light touch skipping over his skin and it nearly made him want to groan with pleasure all over again.
“Good evening, friend!” a voice called out, interrupting Morgan’s more than pleasant thoughts.
Morgan nearly jumped. He hadn’t anticipated encountering anyone here in this little clearing off the side of the road. Although he was bone–weary from traveling all day, Morgan stood up as he knew was the polite thing to do.
“Good evening.”
Three men approached him, coming out of the woods. They carried nothing with them, nor did they have any mounts—at least, not that Morgan could see. For a moment Morgan worried that he was trespassing on their land, and they were going to send him on his way. The thought just made his limbs feel all the more leaden with exhaustion. He was too tired to go another step, and he was certain Apollo felt the same way.
“Are you a traveler on this road?” the second man asked through a thick black beard.
“Yes,” Morgan answered. “But I will be gone by morning. Please, I don’t mean to trespass, I just need a place to rest for the night.”
The men looked at each other, and then laughed. “Oh, no. We do not own this land,” the first said, his voice thick with an accent Morgan couldn’t identify.
“We are traveling too,” the second put in.
“Oh.” That was odd, they didn’t have a thing with them. No bags, no blankets, nothing.
“Would you mind if we shared your fire? The night is getting cold.”
“No. Not at all. Please, come.” Morgan gestured toward the warmth of the fire and seated himself on the far side, closest to the road.
The third man stopped to stroke Apollo’s velvet nose as the horse stood underneath a large oak nibbling at the sweet grass. “’Tis a fine horse,” the man commented, his deep voice very soft.
“Apollo has been with me for many years. He is a good friend and a fine animal,” Morgan said.
“A good friend?” the man laughed.
“Of course! Apollo is my friend. We communicate and look after each other. Is that not what friends do?”
“You converse with your horse?” the second one said mockingly.
Morgan was not used to being in the company of strangers. Perhaps he was saying something wrong that made these men laugh at him. For a moment, he missed his safe little cottage where the only cruelty came from his mother. He knew how to respond to her.
“All right, Marko,” the first man interrupted. “If he says he speaks to his horse, who are we to argue? Where do you travel to, friend?”
“To London,” Morgan answered turning back to the first man, who had now seated himself to Morgan’s left. The three men must be brothers, Morgan thought. They all had the same dark, swarthy features, and the same accent.
“Ah. ‘Tis a fine city. Have you friends you will be visiting?”
> “I am going to meet a young lady. A friend of mine,” Morgan added quickly when the men exchanged knowing looks between them.
“Ah ha. Well, I hope you have brought her some fine gifts,” he said, nodding toward Morgan’s bag that was sitting next to him on the ground. “You know how the ladies like such things.”
No. He didn’t know. And, in fact, he hadn’t even given it a thought. But now that he did think of it, that didn’t sound like a bad idea, especially if she were unhappy with him. Morgan thought for a moment about what he might give her. He had nothing, but a change of clothes and a bit of food.
“I have the earrings my cousin gave me!” he exclaimed out loud as he thought of it.
“Earrings? Are they fine gold. Only the finest will do. And stones of good quality, of course,” the man said.
Morgan hadn’t even taken a good look at what Kat had given him. He fished them out of his bag now. The man leaned over as Morgan looked at them in the fire light.
“May I see them?” he asked.
Morgan handed the earrings to him. He took one and handed the other to the second man who was on his other side. The red garnet flashed in the fire light as Morgan caught the second man putting the earring to his mouth to test the softness of the gold.
They handed Morgan back the earrings. “Yes, I suppose they might do. They are small, but pretty enough. You’ll have to buy her more and perhaps some fine fabrics as well if you are to catch her fancy.”
Morgan nearly let his mouth fall open. “But I don’t have money to buy such things.”
“None at all?” the second man asked.
Morgan shook his head. “All I have is the gold necklace my cousin gave me with her earrings. I’ll need to sell that in order to buy food and lodging.”
“May I see it?” the man asked.
Morgan fished that out as well, after dropping Kat’s earrings back into his bag. The necklace was duly inspected as the earrings had been.
The second man, upon handing it back to the first, gave him a nod. “Yes, that will do,” he said.
“I wish you the best of luck,” the first man said, handing the necklace back to Morgan.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any food in that bag of yours, would you?” the third man asked in his gruff voice.
Morgan nodded and pulled out the dried meat and his water skin. There was barely enough to go around, but each man had enough at least to stave off their hunger for the night.
After they had eaten, the men settled themselves down on the ground to sleep. Morgan stuffed his bag under his head to use as a pillow, and felt bad that he had nothing to offer the other men for any comfort. He was so exhausted, however, that he didn’t worry about it for long.
Before he knew it, Morgan was being tugged awake by something slipping out from underneath his head. He couldn’t fathom why Oberon might be plaguing him this early in the morning. He rolled over to press his face into his bed, but instead found the cold hard ground.
Apollo’s whinny of fright woke him completely. As he moved to sit up his head was snapped back and pain exploded across his cheek. He tried to open his eyes, but all he saw was the blurry outline of one of the men whom he had met the night before, and black spots dancing in front of his eyes. A fist was coming at him a second time, but Morgan moved fast enough to avoid it hitting him in the face.
He kicked to get the man away from him, and landed a good blow in his stomach, but that didn’t deter the fellow for more than a moment. Instead of moving away, the man jumped on top of him instead, straddling him and pinning him to the ground.
Apollo gave another cry of alarm, this time further away, as if he were moving deeper into the woods.
The man took a second to look up toward the horse, and Morgan used his inattention to his advantage. He flipped the man over and got the upper hand. That lasted for all of a minute when he was flipped onto his own back again. With all the strength he had, he shot his fist upward into the man’s nose.
The man fell off to the side, clutching at his face, blood dripping from between his fingers.
Morgan jumped to Apollo’s aid, but was stopped by a fist to his stomach by the second man who must have been standing off to the side. Morgan fell back to the ground, doubled over in pain. The man jumped on Morgan’s back and shoved his face down into the ground. The rich smell of the earth filled Morgan’s nose as the rough dirt scraped at his face.
“Let the boy go!” a woman’s sharp voice called out from behind his head.
Morgan struggled to move hoping that the man would be distracted by this newcomer, but only found his face pressed harder into the solid earth.
“I said, let him go.” The woman’s voice was closer now.
Morgan tried to turn his head to see who his would–be rescuer was, but the man on top of him pulled his head up by his hair and then smashed it back down onto the ground again. Morgan managed to turn his head just enough to keep his nose from being broken, but the pain to his already sore cheek was excruciating.
“Leave this be, Cosmina!” the man on top of Morgan said in a rough, commanding voice.
“No! I cannot let you harm him.” She was right next to Morgan now, but still the man held his face down.
“Return to the camp, now!”
“I will not! Leave him be.”
Suddenly Morgan felt the pressure holding him down being released. He lifted his head just enough to see a middle–aged woman in a brilliantly colored dress of blue and yellow grabbing the man’s arm and pulling it back.
The man jumped off Morgan and smashed his hand against the woman’s face sending her flying to the ground. “How dare you touch me, woman! It is unforgivable!”
Fury filled Morgan in a rush and the man who had dared to lay his hand against the woman was suddenly lifted off the ground thrown against the oak tree on the other side of the clearing. Morgan rushed to the woman’s side, gingerly running his hands down her face.
She looked up at him with a touch a fear in her eyes. “It’s all right.” Morgan said, gently. “He won’t touch you again.”
She struggled to sit up, but nearly collapsed again in pain, cradling her left arm to her body. Morgan touched her arm. It must have broken when she tried to stop her fall.
He would have fixed it immediately, but Apollo’s whinny reminded him that this fight wasn’t over yet.
He turned to see his horse rear up on his hind legs, forcing the man who was holding him to let go.
“Good Apollo!” Morgan called in encouragement.
The man took one look at Morgan and then at his fallen comrades, and bolted for the forest The man with the broken nose hobbled off in his wake.
Morgan turned back to the woman sitting beside him. Very carefully he took her arm in his hands. Summoning his magic, he mended the bone quickly and easily.
Her mouth was hanging open and her dusky complexioned face was already beginning to show signs of a large black and blue mark along her high cheekbone. Ignoring these, he asked, “Are you well enough to stand?”
She closed her mouth and nodded.
Gently, he helped her to her feet. “You know those men. Do you need to follow them? Do you stay with them?”
The woman shook her head. Then, in a quiet, unsteady voice she said softly, “I cannot go back with them, they would, would...”
“You need not go with them. You may come with me instead. I go to London.”
Her dark eyes filled with fear as she looked back toward the woods where the men had disappeared. Turning back once again to Morgan, she nodded, “If you would be so kind as to take me with you. I... I can never return to my clan.”
Morgan did not understand exactly what she meant by her clan, but he understood she would accompany him. Retrieving his bag that the men had left lying on the ground, he helped the woman up onto Apollo’s back. She settled herself on the horse, pulling her long black hair behind her and fixing her headscarf back into its proper position on her head. When she was
ready, Morgan led Apollo back on to the road before mounting behind the woman.
Without a backward glance, they set off for London.
After they had traveled a safe distance from the wood, Morgan finally ventured to ask the questions burning through his mind, “Where do you come from? How did you know those men?”
The woman kept her head turned toward the road ahead. But answered him softly. “We... I am a gypsy. Those men are members of my clan. We travel together, going from town to town, selling our wares and services. Those men you met earn extra money by stealing from unwary travelers such as yourself.”
Morgan nodded, now understanding what a fool he had been. They had managed to trick him into showing them all of his wealth and then, when he was unaware, had nearly got away with stealing everything, including his beloved horse.
The woman turned around to look at Morgan for a moment. “Please, do not blame me. I have told them they should not do such things, but they will not listen to a woman.”
Deliberately softening his features, Morgan realized he must have been looking stern. He patted the woman on the back awkwardly. “It is all right. I don’t blame you. In fact, if it were not for you, I would be in a very sorry state right now.” He paused, and took a deep breath, fully realizing just how much he owed this kind woman. “Thank you. You saved my life.”
The woman shook her head. “No. I merely did what I felt was right.”
“Why did you do it?” Morgan could not help but ask. He would have hoped that anyone would do the same thing, but from what Kat had told him of the outside world, he knew that was not always true.
The woman turned to look back at Morgan once again, a small smile playing on her lips. “You remind me of my son. He would have been about your age if he had not died three winters ago.”
“I am sorry,” Morgan said quietly.
The woman turned back toward the road, and gave a little shrug. “He was a good boy, although he too let his hair grow too long.”
Morgan laughed. Kat had often complained he didn’t cut his hair often enough, but he liked it long.
Magic In The Storm Page 14
