Magic In The Storm (22 page)

“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.

W
ell, 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 directly 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.

She refrained, however, and instead decided
to make things easy for him. She gave him a little smile and said,
“I thought we were good enough friends not to have to exchange
empty compliments, that’s all.”

“Oh.” He thought about this for a moment. “I
didn’t realize that telling a girl she looked nice was an empty
compliment. My sisters always seem to enjoy being told they look
nice, particularly when they have a new bonnet or dress or some
such thing.”

Adriana couldn’t help but smile. Kat had told
her that her cousins were rather empty–headed. “But I am not at all
like your sisters, am I?”

Lord Vallentyn frowned at this. “No. No, you
are not.” A smile then lit up his face. “That must be why I like
you so very much.”

Adriana felt the heat rise in her cheeks,but
could think of nothing to say to this.

Lord Vallentyn too seemed a little
embarrassed by his admission, and quickly covered it up by asking
if she’d like to accompany him to the refreshments.

“Thank you, I could use something to drink,”
she answered, tucking her arm into the crook of his elbow, which he
had held out to her.

“I do hope you’ve been enjoying yourself this
evening. Mother especially wants you to be an active member of
society. She thinks that will help with my career,” Lord Vallentyn
said, leading her to a table laden with a punch bowl and
glasses.

“You are still set on following your mother’s
wishes, and taking your seat in Parliament?” she asked, accepting
the glass of lemonade he’d poured for her.

“Oh, yes, naturally. My mother truly has my
best interests at heart in this. I’m certain she’s correct and I
should try my best to become active in politics.”

Adriana sighed, and nodded her head. There
was nothing she could do. “Well, I suppose I’m not one to argue
with you, since I have also agreed to go along with this scheme,
albeit reluctantly.”

“I am happy you’ve decided to marry me. I
think we’re going to rub along together very well.”

Adriana gave him a little smile, and could
almost hear the bolt being thrown on the door to her freedom. Her
heart suddenly began to pound in her chest. She needed fresh
air—alone.

Pulling her hand away from his arm, she
handed him her glass saying, “I’m sorry, my lord, you must excuse
me.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Oh yes. I... er, just need to visit the
ladies’ retiring room.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” he said, turning
slightly pink.

Adriana turned and walked away as quickly as
she could.

<><><>

Morgan was at a loss. He looked down at the
palm in his hand, staring at all of the lines that criss–crossed
it, trying so hard to remember what Cosmina had told him. Was this
the line of the heart or life, he wondered as he ran his finger
across the woman’s hand.

Even though this was probably the six or
seventh woman who had asked him to read her palm, he still was
unsure of himself. He wasn’t entirely certain how he had bumbled
through the others. He only knew that somehow he had to make it
through this one as well, and then another and another, all evening
long.

He gave the woman a little smile, and then
let his eyes wander around the room. The hostess, Lady Collingwood,
had placed him in a small parlor off the main ball room. There were
a few candles here, but not enough to fully illuminate the space.
Swathes of colorful fabric hung all around, even hanging from the
ceiling creating a rather exotic, claustrophobic feel to the room.
“To give the room atmosphere,” the lady had tittered after leading
Morgan in earlier that evening. He had nodded, smiled, and thanked
her for her thoughtful arrangements. It wasn’t as bad as the
forest, he reminded himself. And he could leave any time—as soon as
he found Adriana.

He sincerely hoped the atmosphere was
convincing the guests he knew what he was doing, since his
performance probably wasn’t. There were, oddly enough, a good
number of people in the room, all talking quietly and enjoying the
refreshments Lady Collingwood’s servants made sure were always at
hand. Some were waiting their turn with Morgan, the gypsy
fortune–teller, while others just seemed to be enjoying the
atmosphere. There were also a number of younger ladies who must
have been taking a break from the dancing. Many of them stood about
giggling to one another, but Adriana was not among them.

“What do you see in my palm?” the plain–faced
middle–aged woman prompted him, bringing his mind back to what he
was supposed to be doing.

He tried to use the tricks Nestor taught him
on how to tell a woman’s station, and thereby what she would
probably be interested in hearing. This lady was dressed rather
more plainly than many of the others, so Morgan guessed she must be
one of the chaperones.

“You have not have had a very easy life,”
Morgan began hesitantly.

The lady sighed. “No, but it
will
improve, will it not? Oh, I know that it is too late to hope for a
husband or children, but at least an easier time with my charges
would be welcome?” Her voice rose hopefully.

Morgan gave the woman a little smile, and was
quietly thrilled with himself for having guessed correctly. He then
ran his finger along one of the longer lines that crossed her palm.
“Yes, indeed, you shall have an easier time. See, here, where this
line intersects with this other one,” he pointed vaguely at her
palm and she bent her head to peer into it. “This signifies that a
gentleman will come into your life.”

Morgan looked up and caught the woman’s eyes
with his own. He held them and focused his energy so she could not
look away. “Look for him in the places you go to in your ordinary
life. He shall change everything for you. Do not be in a hurry,
however, change comes with time. Now go and be happy with your life
and know it
will
become easier in time.”

The woman blinked a few times and looked at
Morgan with a slightly confused expression on her face. She then
nodded slightly, and with a small smile flitting on and off her
narrow lips she got up and meandered away through the crowded
room.

Morgan shook his head. When all else failed,
putting a suggestion into the woman’s mind always worked.

He started to look around once again for
Adriana. Surely she should be here by now. He wondered if he could
get up from the heavily draped table where he was seated and go
looking for her. Nestor had assured him she would be here. She must
simply have not ventured into this side room as yet.

Before he could stand up, however, another
lady sat down in the seat opposite him. As she leaned her ample
bosom toward him, she held out her heavily be–ringed hand to him.
The candlelight caught the fire of the diamonds and rubies in her
rings that sparkled at him menacingly. This was a woman of wealth
and power, there was no mistaking that. From the jewels on her hand
and at her throat, to her ornately designed dress with many ruffles
and frills, to the high plumage that waved gently from her
intricately coiffed hair—everything about her spoke of money. Her
bearing said she knew it, and expected to be treated
appropriately.

Morgan nodded a small bow to her, and then
gently turned her hand over, holding it in his own.

“You are...” Morgan began.

He was interrupted immediately by the lady,
“A woman of passion.”

Morgan looked up. She was looking at him
through her partially veiled eyes with an intensity that made his
skin crawl.

“Indeed,” he said. “You search...”

“...for a gypsy man of equal passion,” she
interrupted again. “I have heard that gypsies are talented lovers,”
she said, her voice low and husky.