Magic In The Storm (36 page)

Morgan stood up and moved away from her,
hastily buttoning his breeches and trying desperately to calm
himself. He took two long deep breaths and thought of Adriana.

No, thinking of Adriana didn’t help. He would
think... he would think of Kat and Cosmina. Yes, that helped.
Nestor and his mother helped even more. Finally, he was able to
finish buttoning his breeches comfortably.

He turned back around to face a quiet and
demure woman.

“I’m sorry if you didn’t like...” Sarah began
quietly.

“Oh, no. I liked what you were doing. I liked
it very much. It was amazing, but...” Morgan took another deep
breath, “but it wasn’t right.”

He turned and took a step toward the window
that looked out onto the street. The drapes were drawn, but he
could hear the rattle of carriages as they rolled past Sarah’s
house. “I’m terribly sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I thought that
I’d wanted to... to understand your magic better, but I was
wrong.”

“I don’t understand.”

Morgan leaned against the cool window frame.
How could he explain to her what he himself didn’t understand?
“I... there is a young woman.”

“Ah, I see.”

Morgan turned back toward Sarah. “No, you
don’t. I want to be with her—with all my soul, I want to be with
her to, to share my life and to share in hers...” He expelled his
breath and ran his hand through his hair, pulling it out of the
neat queue. “But she has told me that she doesn’t want to be with
me.”

“But you love her,” Sarah said simply. “You
want her. You need her,” she said, her voice growing quieter.
Morgan could feel the sensation of longing in her voice. “You can’t
imagine your life without her.”

“Yes! Yes, that’s it exactly!” Morgan strode
over to her as she sat on her pretty pink sofa gazing out at
nothing.

“Sometimes you need her so much, it hurts,”
she whispered.

“Yes,” Morgan said quietly, dropping down
next to her.

“You want to make love to her and show her
just how much she means to you. Your two bodies joining as one,”
Sarah continued, her voice weaving a beautiful picture in Morgan’s
mind. “Touching her, tasting her—you want to make her entirely
yours, because she is yours to cherish and care for. To love and be
with for the rest of your life because you can’t possibly imagine
your life without her.”

“Yes.” The word was wrenched from deep within
his soul. This was right. This was how he felt about Adriana. He
could never imagine not being with her, and he could certainly
never, ever be with another.

Morgan dropped his face into his hands, pain
slashing through his body as he remembered Adriana’s face when he
last saw her. Tears burned his eyes, and he could barely breathe.
When he managed to regain control over himself, he said, “But she
doesn’t feel that way. She doesn’t want me.”

Sarah stroked his back. “I’m certain she
does. She would be a fool not to want you.”

But Morgan shook his head, but didn’t raise
it from his hands. “No. She said so.”

“Oh, Mr. Vallentyn. I’m sure she was just
upset over something. But I assure you, and I know about these
things, if you go back to her, she will welcome you with open arms.
You simply need to tell her how you feel. You will find that she
feels the same way.”

Morgan took out his handkerchief and wiped
his face with it. “She must. She has to. We were meant to be
together. I know it. I feel it.”

“Then it is that way. And you will be
together.”

A
driana’s grip on
Lord Byron’s arm tightened.

He patted it gently and gave her a reassuring
smile before leading her from his carriage toward the gallery for
the opening night of the exhibition and sale of her paintings.

The fact that Henrietta followed at a
discreet distance behind did nothing for her nerves, which had been
on edge all evening.

“No, wait,” she said, pulling him to a stop
before they began to climb the steps to the door. “I can’t do this.
I can’t go in.”

“Of course you can. Don’t, please, don’t
become missish now,” he said, sounding a little exasperated.

“No, I’m not, I just...”

“Miss Hayden, you are just nervous, that is
all. But truly, everything will be fine.”

She pulled her hand away from his arm. “I’m
not just nervous, my lord, I’m nauseous.” She turned back toward
the curb, seriously wondering whether the very little she had
managed to eat for dinner wouldn’t soon be at her feet.

Henrietta was no help at all. She kept a
proper distance, wringing her own hands, and looking as anxious as
Adriana felt.

Lord Byron came up next to her. “Just take a
few deep breaths, Miss Hayden, and you will be fine,” he encouraged
her gently, his voice becoming more resonant.

Adriana did as she was told, and indeed, her
stomach did settle itself down. She didn’t think he’d used his
magic, yet, but he seemed ready to do so should she need it.

“Better? Good, now, please, let us remove
ourselves from the street. There is nothing more gauche than
standing about on the footpath.”

Lord Byron had done so much for her that she
certainly didn’t wish to put him out any more than was absolutely
necessary. He had not only taken all of her paintings to the art
dealer and had arranged for this exhibition, but he had even
somehow convinced her guardian to allow her to attend, as well. If
it hadn’t been for him, she certainly would not have been here
tonight.

She swallowed her fear, bit back her bile,
and placed her hand once more on his outstretched arm.

“All right?” he asked gently.

She gave a little nod, not entirely certain
she could trust her voice not to give away her fears.

“Very good, then, in we go.”

Just as the footman reached for the handle,
she shied back one again, “Oh, no, my lord...”

This time Lord Byron turned and looked
Adriana in the eye. “Miss Hayden...” he began, his voice becoming
even more resonant than before. But Adriana stopped him, holding up
a hand. She didn’t want him to use his magic. She didn’t need it,
she told herself firmly.

“It is all right, my lord. You don’t need to
do that,” She said, knowing he would understand full well she was
referring to his magical power without having to risk saying so in
public.

He stopped and looked at her closely, but
with a little smile playing on his lips. “Are you certain?”

Adriana took a deep breath and straightened
her back. “Yes.” She turned back to the door. With the knowledge
that both Lord Byron and Henrietta were with her, she walked into
the gallery.

“Well done,” Lord Byron said approvingly as
he moved next to her.

A short rotund man with large sideburns
approached them, laughing jovially. “Lord Byron, my lord!” He
reached out and grasped his hand. “So good to see you, my
lord!”

“Sir William, how do you do,” Lord Byron
said, suffering the gentleman’s attentions. “May I introduce Miss
Adriana Hayden?”

“Ah! Our artist! How wonderful to meet you,
Miss Hayden. Delighted, delighted!” he said too loudly for
Adriana’s comfort, especially as she noticed that the heads of the
few people who were present all turned in her direction.

Thank God, Adriana thought with sigh of
relief as she took a quick look around the gallery, there was
almost no one there. Perhaps no one would come. Perhaps everything
would be all right after all. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw
Henrietta take a seat in one of the little gilt chairs set off to
the side of the room for chaperones.

She still couldn’t imagine how she had come
to agree to this. She probably never would have, had Lord Byron not
used his magic to convince her.

“Thank you for agreeing to hold this
exhibition, Sir William,” Adriana said, with only the smallest hint
of a quiver to her voice.

“Not at all! My pleasure, my pleasure!” he
said, laughing, and giving Lord Byron a wink. Adriana wondered what
that was about, but forgot about it almost immediately as Sir
William led them forward, further into the room.

Her nausea came back in full force when she
saw all of her work displayed on the walls. Quite a few of the
pieces had been framed, including...

“Oh, no! Oh, my goodness! No, you cannot sell
that. Oh, how did that get here?” Adriana was absolutely
distraught. She couldn’t breathe! She was going to faint or throw
up or both. She put one hand to her chest, attempting to breathe,
while putting another to her red hot cheek.

In front of her, framed and sitting on a
stand prominently displayed in the center of the room, was her
painting of Morgan.

She turned to the gentlemen next to her. “Oh,
Lord Byron, please. Sir William, have that removed at once.” She
looked desperately around the room, and was grateful once again
that there were so few people present—and, most importantly, no one
she knew.

But it had to, absolutely had to be removed
before anyone else saw it!

How could her painting of a naked Morgan
standing by the stream be so prominently displayed? If anyone saw
it, she would never be able to show her face in public again! Oh,
my goodness, and he truly looked as if he was about to turn around
and show himself as God had made him!

She walked straight up to the painting and
began to pull it down. Where was a cloth to cover it? Perhaps she
could hide it under her skirts—but no, it was too big and her dress
just did not have that much material to it. She looked frantically
about for something, anything with which to cover the offending
piece.

“Miss Hayden, stop!” Sir William said, coming
over to her and pulling the painting back onto its stand. “You
cannot remove this piece!” To reinforce his point, he forcibly
placed himself between her and the painting.

Adriana wanted to cry, and indeed had to
furiously blink back the tears that had come to her eyes. She
looked desperately at Lord Byron. “Please, my lord, you cannot
allow him to display this painting.”

Adriana came very close to stamping her foot,
preferably on Lord Byron’s own, as an expression of mild amusement
twitched at his lips. “I could hardly believe you had painted such
a portrait, but once I saw it, I knew it would be the
piece de
resistance
. “ He then leaned down and whispered to her, “I’m
not entirely certain I want to know how or when you saw Mr.
Vallentyn in such a pose, but perhaps you can tell me later.” He
gave a chuckle and Adriana was certain she was as close to swooning
as she had ever come in her life.

She didn’t have time for such an indulgence,
however, because a large number of people had just entered the
gallery. And they were coming straight towards her—and her painting
of Morgan! She looked desperately at Lord Byron, but he just gave a
small shrug of his shoulders before turning to greet the
newcomers.

Adriana stood back and watched them arrive.
There was nothing she could do. Well, she supposed there were two
things she could do—she could give way to panic, which was a very
enticing option, or she could pull herself together, which was what
she needed to do.

Adriana closed her eyes for a moment, took a
deep breath, and let it out slowly. When she opened her eyes again,
she was staring directly at her painting of Morgan. All of the
wonderful feelings she had felt when she had painted the portrait
in her studio—just days after she had come back from Vallentyn—came
flooding back to her. The longing for him, the happiness, and the
desire. It was there, captured in her painting.

But there was more, now—more inside of her
because she knew Morgan so much better now than she did the day she
had painted his portrait. He had become a part of her life since
then—an integral part.

Voices intruded on her thoughts.

“It’s incredible!” a man said.

“My goodness! How very provocative!” his
companion said, giggling.

“It’s brilliant, absolutely brilliant.”

Adriana was pushed away from the painting by
a surge of people all straining to see it. She slowly moved away
while listening to the whispers and exclamations from the people
now pouring into the gallery.

Standing next to where Henrietta sat, she
could hardly believe the number of people who had come to the
exhibition within the last few minutes. There had to be at least
two hundred people crowded into the room. But as she watched all of
the beautiful people of the beau monde—the women in their
glittering jewels, the men with their impeccably tied neck cloths,
and even her most beloved companion—she had never felt more alone
and out of place.

There was a shuffle of displaced people and
she could hear Sir William’s overly loud voice. “Excuse me. I beg
your pardon. Ah, my lord, so good to see you, so good to see you!
Yes, excuse me just a moment.” And then he was standing in front of
her. “Ah! There you are! Miss Hayden, what in the world are you
doing hiding over here?” he nearly shouted.

Adriana momentarily felt a panicked need to
run and hide, but there was nowhere for her to go. She locked eyes
on Henrietta who just looked at her with a broad smile and that
twinkle in her eye, while all of the people surrounding her turned
and stared. There was no chance for escape.

“Please, ladies and gentlemen, our artist!
Here is the talented Miss Hayden!” Sir William said leading her,
with a strong hand on her back, towards the center of the room
again.

And just like that, she was suddenly
surrounded with gentlemen taking her hand and women murmuring their
congratulations.

“Brilliant.”

“Absolutely amazing!”

“Where have you been hiding?”

“Your work is incredible!”

The compliments washed over her as she slowly
made her way through the crowd.