“But I’m not able to tell who is a Vallen and who isn’t. Are you?” Morgan asked.
“At times. But it is just a guess. It is not always correct and certainly not based on any sort of magical ability, I assure you.”
“I have heard of Vallen who have that ability, although I, myself, have never met one,” Lord Byron said. He turned more fully toward Morgan. Immediately, Morgan was even more aware of the strength of his presence, the energy exuding from him. He shifted to the edge of the sofa as Lord Byron continued, “So you are able to block Kean’s enthrall. That is interesting, very interesting. He is quite strong, you know. Although,” and here he turned to Mr. Kean, “I don’t think you were giving it your all. Try a little harder next time.”
Mr. Kean bowed his acquiescence.
“How can you tell who is Vallen?” Adriana asked Mr. Kean, sitting at the edge of her chair. Morgan had never seen her look so demure.
Mr. Kean held out his hands on either side of his body in a large shrug. “They are nearly always prominent people, Miss Hayden. Men and women who are somehow larger than life or who have done fabulous things. Mozart, Wellington, Nelson.”
“There’s that fellow in America, what was his name? Franklin?” Lord Byron asked.
“Yes, and General Washington I believe must be Vallen as well,” Kean agreed.
“Are they mostly men?” Adriana asked.
“Oh no, there are quite a number of very powerful women as well. You don’t hear of them so often. Frequently they are the power behind a great man, telling him what to do or making sure what he does is admired or believed. Washington’s wife and Abigail Adams probably fall into that category. Very powerful women.”
“And, of course, our esteemed leader is always a woman—your mother in this case,” Lord Byron said nonchalantly, but looking at Morgan through half–closed eyes to see his reaction.
Morgan froze. He gave a small nod, but pressed his lips together. He didn’t know how close Lord Byron or Mr. Kean were to his mother. He thought it best to find out more about them before laying himself open.
“Is the king a Vallen? Or the prince?” Adriana asked, moving the subject away from his mother.
Mr. Kean burst out with his grand laugh once more. “No, Miss Hayden, most definitely not. There are some at court, however, and they guide the king and prince so one might easily be fooled into thinking the royal family is greater than it is.”
Lord Byron too laughed at this, although it was just a small shaking of his shoulders. “Our esteemed royal family... well, all I can say is it would be a very different world were they Vallen, I can assure you.”
“Well, we wouldn’t be hunted, now, would we?” Mr. Kean asked rhetorically.
Morgan nodded at the wisdom of this statement.
“May I ask a rather personal question?” Morgan asked.
Byron raised an eyebrow, but Kean relaxed his back against the mantelpiece, and crossed his arms over his chest, ready for anything.
How close are you to my mother and can I trust you? The words nearly tripped off of Morgan’s tongue, and with the feeling of daring that had been coursing through him, it took quite an effort to hold them back. Instead, he consciously tamped down that urge and did his best to close himself off to the magic that seeped from Lord Byron. His mother already knew too much about him. He needed to play his cards close to his chest. If either Byron or Kean reported their meeting back to his mother, he didn’t want her finding out what he was seeking. He would have to ask his questions in a round–about way.
“When did you know that you were Vallen and the extent of your powers?” he asked, hoping that one of them would have attained his powers later in life as he was.
“I have always known,” Kean replied immediately, much to Morgan’s chagrin. “I come from a family of actors, and Vallen.”
“And you, my lord?” Morgan asked, looked at the gentleman next to him.
“I’ve always been able to convince people to do things they otherwise might not have done.” He gave a lopsided smile and a little shrug. “I didn’t realize it was magic until I was at school and met other Vallen who recognized my powers.”
“But you’ve always had your powers, you just didn’t know it?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Lord Byron nodded.
Morgan worked to control the frustration that was beginning to build up inside of him. Nestor was wrong—even powerful Vallen may not be able to help him.
“You can convince people to do things they don’t wish to do?” Adriana asked.
“I can, but I don’t—generally. Not unless they truly wish to do whatever it is, but are just too timid or frightened. Then, with just a touch of my magic, their fears disappear and they become less... inhibited.”
“Oh...”
Adriana seemed as if she wanted to ask more, but a footman entered the room, carrying a tea tray. He put it on a table and withdrew.
Byron sat up and smiled at Adriana in such a way that made Morgan know why his cousin had gushed in her letter to him after she had met the poet for the first time. He was handsome and charming. Morgan was nearly certain it was part of Byron’s magic, but that didn’t make Adriana any less susceptible to it. It might have also made Morgan extremely angry if it hadn’t been immediately followed up with a twinkling of his eye and the innocent question, “Tea, Miss Hayden?”
“Thank you,” Adriana said, turning slightly pink, and stealing a guilty glance over at Morgan.
With a wave of Lord Byron’s hand the tea pot rose and tilted itself to pour out the tea into a cup sitting next to it. A lump of sugar then hopped out of the sugar bowl and straight into Adriana’s cup. She watched with a smile playing on her beautiful lips as her tea prepared itself and then floated over to rest gently in her outstretched hand.
Parlor tricks, Morgan thought, trying not to laugh.
Byron then did the same for the other cups of tea. He hardly watched the proceedings, only paying attention to it every so often.
“I believe all Vallen can move objects,” Byron said, keeping half an eye on the tea pot.”Depending on their strength they can move bigger or smaller objects.” He paused while a cup passed in front of him on its way to Morgan.”What’s the biggest object you’ve moved, Mr. Vallentyn?” he asked casually.
Morgan shrugged as the cup settled into his hand. “I pushed a man who was attacking a friend, but I haven’t tried to move anything larger than that,” he admitted. He looked down at his tea and swallowed the urge to show off to Adriana just how strong his magic was. This was not a competition—he was here for information.
He fought down his pride when both Lord Byron and Mr. Kean looked very impressed.
“How about you, Mr. Kean?” Morgan asked.
Mr. Kean gave a little chuckle, “Oh, I can only move small objects about, like my Lord Byron here. Most of my power lies in my mesmer.”
“I also have the ability to start and put out fires,” Byron added. “It comes in handy when things get out of hand, as they have a tendency to do at times. When I was younger...” he paused and looked over at Adriana. “Well, let’s just say it took some time for me to learn how to control the strength of my power.”
“So you did spend some time learning how to control your powers?” Morgan asked, interested again.
“Oh, yes,” Lord Byron said, taking a sip of his tea.
“And how did you learn?”
Lord Byron gave a little shrug. “Trial and error mostly.”
“Can you control the elements?” Mr. Kean asked Morgan as he was struggling to control his disappointment at Lord Byron’s answer. He had been hoping he would be able to ask for some guidance in using his own powers, but it seemed as if it was something you were supposed to learn on your own.
“Your mother is especially adept at dramatic entrances, complete with thunder, lightning and wind,” Mr. Kean continued, clearly in awe of this ability.
“When have you seen her do this?” Morgan asked, d
eliberately not answering Mr. Kean’s question.
“At coven meetings, naturally,” he answered as if this was obvious. “She doesn’t preside over them often, but when she does, you know it.”
Morgan nodded thoughtfully. “I have never been to a coven meeting. Do you know when the next one will be?”
“They are held once a season. We have yet to have our summer meeting. I imagine it will be some time in July as usual,” Byron answered just before taking a sip of his own tea.
“How do you know when and where it will be?” Adriana asked.
“Oh, word gets about,” he said with a shrug.
“What other magical powers do you possess?” Kean asked.
Morgan stole a look at Adriana, who gave him an imperceptible nod of encouragement. He supposed if he didn’t take a leap of faith and reveal everything to these men, there was no chance they would be able to help him.
Taking a deep breath, he told them his story of his growing powers and the fact that he was trying to learn all he could about them and his destiny.
The men were silent throughout and afterwards.
“Do you think you can help me?” Morgan asked, in case he hadn’t made it clear that that was what he was looking for.
“That’s quite...”
“I have never in my life heard of someone’s powers growing,” Mr. Kean said, interrupting Lord Byron.
“Nor have I,” Byron asserted. “If that is the case, then why can’t others increase their powers through whatever means you have increased yours?”
“That is indeed the question, my friend,” Mr. Kean said with growing enthusiasm. “If one could increase the powers he has—not that I would want to do so, of course, I am quite happy with the way that I am,” he added quickly, “then who’s to say we couldn’t all become powerful Vallen with abilities similar to yours—whatever they may be,” he added with a slight frown.
Morgan nodded his head slowly, thinking this through. “Then my case must be very special. Different. As you say, otherwise everyone would be trying to increase their powers.”
“But that still doesn’t answer the question. Even if it is something special to Morgan, where are his powers coming from?” Adriana asked, and then turned slightly pink once again as she drew the direct attention of all three men.
Both Lord Byron and Mr. Kean looked blankly back at her. Mr. Kean then raised his arms, saying, “How could we, two humble, ordinary Vallen, know the answer to such a question?”
Morgan’s heart sank in his chest and his frustration grew another notch.
“I had hoped that because you are more powerful Vallen, you would know. Or because you are more experienced, that you would have heard of something like this before,” Morgan said.
“I am terribly sorry, but we cannot help you.”
Morgan tried very hard to keep his mind on the conversation as it turned to the mundane. It wasn’t easy. He had sincerely hoped he would come away from this visit with much more information. Although he had learned more about Vallen, he still wasn’t close to having his own questions answered.
<><><>
The clock on the mantelpiece chimed, announcing the hour, and Adriana jumped. Four o’clock! There wasn’t much time left!
Her heart lurched. She only had perhaps one more hour before Lord Devaux would slowly start destroying all of her work. She had to get back. She had to spend her last precious hour with her paintings, and perhaps drawing one last sketch before it was forever denied to her.
She put a shaking hand to her mouth and held her breath. She could not afford to lose her composure now.
Morgan stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. “What? What is wrong?”
Adriana shook her head and then took a deep breath to calm herself. “It... it is just that it’s so late,” she said, working hard to maintain a calm facade. “I am so sorry, I was not paying attention to the time. My guardian...”
“Isn’t he at Parliament today?” Morgan asked.
“Yes, but he might be back early... I really should not have stayed away so long.” She turned to Lord Byron. “Thank you so much, my lord, for your hospitality. If you wouldn’t mind ringing for my maid...”
“What is the hurry? What will happen if you don’t return home before your guardian?” Lord Byron asked, also standing up.
Morgan moved to take Adriana’s hands into his own. “Calm, Adriana. It will be all right. Whatever it is...”
She wrenched her hands from his grasp. “No. No, it is not all right. I must get back. I don’t have much time,” she said, her voice starting to break with emotion. She blinked back the tears that came into her eyes as she could feel the pain of her heartbreak begin again. At least now the pain wasn’t as intense, but more like a dull ache that was pervading her body and soul.
“My dear Miss Hayden, whatever it is, you know we will assist you in any way possible. I shall see your guardian myself, and tell him you have done nothing wrong,” Mr. Kean offered. “You can be sure, he will believe me,” he added with a smile.
“Thank you, sir, but it is not that...”
“Then what is it, Adriana?” Morgan asked.
Adriana wrung her hands in indecision for a moment. Should she tell them? There wasn’t anything they could do... but Morgan especially looked like he was ready to do anything for her. It made her feel better, stronger, even a little braver at what she was about to face. “It is my work, my paintings.”
“You are an artist?” Lord Byron asked.
“An extremely talented one,” Morgan answered for her. He then turned back to her. “Why are they in danger? Did you not agree to Vallentyn’s suit?”
Adriana nodded at the hopeful look in Morgan’s eyes. “I did, at first, but then I went back and told him I couldn’t marry him after all. Lord Vallentyn went to Lord Devaux, and asked him to see if he couldn’t do anything to change my mind.” She hastily wiped away a tear that had slipped from her eye.
Morgan turned to the other two gentlemen and briefly explained the situation. Adriana was grateful, because she wasn’t sure she could trust herself to maintain a hold on her emotions if she had to go through the whole explanation herself.
Mr. Kean slowly raised his eyebrows so that by the time Morgan was finished he was looking very startled.
Lord Byron just shook his head sadly, but then said, “Clearly, we cannot allow your artwork to be destroyed.”
“But there is nothing that can be done. I will not marry Lord Vallentyn,” Adriana said, her voice quiet with emotion.
“There is always something that can be done, Miss Hayden,” Lord Byron said, offering her a smile. “And I applaud your tenacity in not allowing yourself to be forced into a distasteful match.”
She appreciated his kindness, and was about to say so when he asked, “Where are your paintings now? Are they in your home still?”
“Of course. Lord Devaux said he would burn them one by one in front of me this evening when he returned from Parliament.”
“The cad!” Mr. Kean said vehemently.
Lord Byron nodded, but gave Adriana a reassuring smile. “Then I will simply have my footmen go and remove your work from your home,” he said, making it sound so simple and obvious a solution.
“Remove them?” Adriana asked. Could he do that?
“Yes. If they aren’t there, he can’t destroy them, can he?”
“But...”
“Why don’t you give them to an art dealer?” Mr. Kean asked.
Lord Byron swung around. “Brilliant idea, Edmund!”
“I know of an excellent art dealer,” Lord Byron said, becoming rather animated. “All of the best artists show with him and only the most serious collectors attend his shows.”
“If you are speaking of Sir William Agnew, it is no use. He refused to even see me or my work when I applied to him once before. Well,” Adriana amended at the surprised look on Lord Byron’s face, “it was really his clerk who turned me away. Sir William probably never
even learned that I had called.”
“I assure you, he will see me when I call,” Lord Byron said with the air of a man’s assurance.
“But what if he doesn’t like them? My guardian calls them emotional hogwash,” Adriana argued, trying to hold on to a losing battle.
Lord Byron spread out his hands. “Why don’t we let Sir William decide? He is exceptionally knowledgeable when it comes to what will sell.”
Adriana didn’t have an argument for that. She wasn’t entirely sure she liked the idea, but it was certainly better than the alternative, as Lord Byron had pointed out. And wouldn’t it be exciting if they did sell?
Twenty Seven
So was he able to help?” Cosmina asked as soon as Morgan walked through the parlor door. She, Nestor and Kat were all there, having tea.
“I’m not certain,” Morgan answered honestly. He declined the cup offered by his cousin with a casual wave of his hand.
“What did he say?” Nestor asked.
“Edmund Kean was there as well,” Morgan said, but before he could go on both Kat and Nestor were exclaiming, “Kean? The actor?” and “Oh, Morgan, how exciting! You met Edmund Kean?”
Morgan stifled a laugh. “Yes, he is very powerful, you know.”
“I can imagine!” Nestor agreed with enthusiasm. “I have never seen him myself, but the tales I have heard...”
Cosmina shrugged. “Even I have heard of him. But did he know anything about your powers?”
Morgan tried not to lose his smile, but it was becoming a little forced. “He did not. Nor did Byron. But I did learn some interesting things.” He turned to Kat. “Did you know that Wellington was Vallen? And Nelson and Mozart?”
Kat thought about that for a moment and then gave a little shrug. “I didn’t know it, but now that you mention it, it makes sense.”
Nestor agreed, “Yes, it would make perfect sense. Not surprising at all.”
“Nestor, you said that Vallen are always great artists, politicians and scientists,” Morgan said.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Are they always someone famous? Or someone who does something important like that?”
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