Magic In The Storm (38 page)

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss,” a maid said after
briefly knocking on her door, “but Lord Byron is here and he says
it is extremely important that he speak to you.”

“Lord Byron?” That jolted her. “Tell him I’ll
be with him in just a moment,” she said, swinging her legs off the
chair she had been curled up on. What could be so important to
bring Lord Byron out on a day like today? And at this time too—it
was past normal visiting hours.

After very quickly tidying her hair and
trying to smooth the wrinkles from her gown, she rushed down to the
drawing room. Henrietta was standing just outside of the room
waiting for her as she came down the stairs.

“It is Lord Byron!” she whispered
excitedly.

Adriana managed a small smile at Henrietta’s
excitement. Her dear friend still hadn’t gotten over the thrill of
meeting her favorite author. “Yes, let’s see what it is he wants,”
Adriana whispered back, as she opened the door to the drawing
room.

It could have been a warm sunny day the way
Lord Byron looked. He was dry and dressed as immaculately as
always. And quite a change from his usual demeanor of ennui, there
was the closest thing Adriana had ever seen to a smile on his face.
His eyes were virtually twinkling with glee.

“Ah, Miss Hayden, I am sorry to intrude on
your evening. I hope I didn’t disturb your toilet? I know I,
myself, was about to begin to get dressed when I received a most
welcome caller to my home. I simply had to come immediately to see
you.”

As always when she was with Lord Byron,
Adriana was suddenly very awake, full of energy and good feelings.
It was such a relief from the emptiness she been consumed by for
the past few days. She gave him a true smile. “I thank you for
doing so. What was it that you needed to share?”

He pulled a leather pouch from out of his
pocket. “It is just this,” he said, handing it to her.

It was surprisingly heavy, and made the most
delightful chinking noise as he placed it into her hand.

“But what is it?” Adriana asked, honestly
bewildered. “And do, please, sit down,” she said, suddenly
remembering her manners. She then perched on the edge of the chair
next to the one he had chosen.

“That is half of your share of the monies
earned the other night. A total of twelve paintings sold. I left
with your footman materials for another painting that has been
commissioned. Sir William said that Lady Bertram would like
something bright in tones of amber and blue to match her new
drawing room. A landscape or, rather, a seascape, I imagine.”

Adriana could hardly breath. Materials?
Painting materials? She was going to paint again? Her heart began
to flutter within her chest, but then constricted once again as she
thought of Lord Devaux. Would he allow her this?

“Sir William has received three more
commissions for works from you, including one from a lady who wants
a painting of her lover in exactly the same position you painted
Mr. Vallentyn.” Lord Byron said, his eyes narrowing in
amusement.

Adriana gasped with delighted shock. She
didn’t care what her guardian said, she was going to do these
paintings!

“The advances for those paintings and the
other half of the money owed to you will be coming forthwith,” Lord
Byron finished.

Adriana could barely believe it. Her
paintings had sold! She had the money in her hand. It was hers to
do with whatever she liked. She weighed the bag in her hand—it was
very heavy. My goodness, she could... she could leave London, leave
her guardian, and move into the country with Henrietta. She could
spend the rest of her life painting!

This money was her freedom!

“This is only half?” she asked, the shock
beginning descend upon her.

“Yes, certainly. And, of course, there are
still many more paintings which Sir William still expects to
sell.”

Oh, my goodness! She could hardly believe
this! Never again was she going to be stopped from doing what she
loved. Never.

“I would suggest you keep the money someplace
very safe, Miss Hayden. Perhaps you might even consider investing
some of it, or ...”

“Indeed, that money will be kept very
safely,” Lord Devaux said, interrupting Lord Byron.

Adriana jumped. She hadn’t even heard him
come into the room.

Lord Byron stood. “Lord Devaux, what a
pleasant surprise. I was just...”

“Giving my ward the money earned by her
paintings?” her guardian finished.

“This is my money,” Adriana said,
standing.

Lord Devaux snatched the purse out of her
hand. “Any money you earn, my dear, is rightfully mine. And it’s
about time you began to pay me back for the hospitality I’ve shown
you for the past fourteen years.” He turned to Lord Byron who
looked as dumbfounded as Adriana felt. “My lord,” he gave Lord
Byron a slight nod of his head. “From now on, all money from Sir
William can be delivered directly to me.” He turned and started out
of the room.

“I say, Lord Devaux, that’s not right...”
Lord Byron began. His shock now turned to anger on Adriana’s
behalf.

“I beg your pardon?” Lord Devaux said, slowly
turning back around.

“That money belongs to Miss Hayden. She
earned it with her work.”

Lord Devaux cocked his head to the side just
a touch. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but seeing as Miss Hayden is
my ward, any money she earns is rightfully, and legally, mine. And
I would appreciate you staying out of my business.” Once again he
gave a slight nod of his head. “Good day to you.”

Adriana sank back down onto the sofa as Lord
Devaux closed the door as he left the room.

Gone. It was all gone. Her freedom had just
been taken out of the room in Lord Devaux’s pocket. It had been her
last hope. Her only hope. And now it was gone.

There weren’t tears for how she felt. She had
spent them all on Morgan, anyhow. No, now there was nothing,
nothing at all.

The warmth of Lord Byron’s hand on her own
hardly registered, but she did look up into his intense eyes. “Miss
Hayden. I don’t know what to say.”

Adriana shook her head. “It’s not your
fault,” she said with difficulty.

“But it is. If I had only known he
would...”

“No, you couldn’t have known. I don’t know
what I’m going to do now. My work is gone. There is nothing
left.”

“No, please don’t say that. You’ll come
around. You’ll see, it will work out.”

“No, my lord. That is exceedingly kind, but I
don’t think it will. I just don’t know...” her voice trailed off
and she knew how she sounded, but just as this moment she didn’t
care. She just wanted to curl up in her bed and stay there.

Morgan was gone from her life, and now her
work—all of her beautiful paintings, her life’s work—they were all
gone and she would get nothing for them.

“Miss Hayden, I am so sorry,” Lord Byron said
again just before he closed the door behind himself.

<><><>

Adriana worked feverishly.

For the two nights since Lord Devaux had
allowed her to paint again, now in the hopes that she would earn
money for him, she hadn’t been able to sleep properly. For two
nights she had done little else but toss and turn in her bed.

When she did finally sleep, her dreams were
too vivid for her to truly get any rest. There were unending images
of Morgan, his arms wrapped around another woman, kissing her
passionately. Sometimes she would wake up crying. Sometimes she
would wake up and just lie there like a stone in her bed, feeling
nothing. She didn’t know which was worse.

But there was another other dream too—it
wasn’t so disturbing as the first, but just as vivid. It was this
dream she was painting now.

Yes, her conscience pricked her as she used
the canvas and paints bought for her so she could complete a work
commissioned at the exhibition—but she had no choice. This image
from her dream just had to be painted. And she would not rest until
it was finished.

Twice this morning, Henrietta tried to cajole
her into coming down for a meal, but she would not, she could not.
Not until the painting was done.

Her companion now stood beside her, wringing
her hands. “But really, Adriana, you can’t just stay here the whole
day working on this painting.”

“Henrietta, please. Lord Devaux has allowed
me to paint, so that is what I am doing,” Adriana said, not even
bothering to put down her paintbrush or even turn away from her
painting. There was something about this painting that demanded her
complete devotion. “When I am done, I will come down, I promise.
Just a few more hours, and then I’ll be finished. Just give me a
few more hours.”

She heard the door click behind her as
Henrietta left again with a sigh. Adriana didn’t know what this
place was that she was painting. She didn’t know where it was, or
its significance, but it was there in her mind and it had to get
out and onto her canvas. That was all she knew. It was all she
could do for now.

It was nearing four o’clock when she finally
finished. She was dropping with fatigue, but it was done.

Collapsing on to the sofa behind her, she
reached for a piece of the bread and meat that Henrietta had left
for her to eat hours ago. Nibbling at her food, she examined the
painting that had consumed her.

The focus of the painting was a circle of
standing stones. Some had horizontal stones perched precariously
upon others forming doorways, others stood as sentry forming the
curve of the circle. A full moon shone pale in the deep blue of the
night, making the stones glow with an almost otherworldly grace. It
was a place filled with magic and mystery.

Fear and joy, but most of all awe, filled the
picture. It was almost as if you knew that something great was
about to happen here. Shadows on the ground gave the impression of
people, cloaked and waiting to come out from behind the stones.
They were waiting to come through the doorways, to enter the sacred
circle. Waiting for just the right moment, when the moon would be
at its peak, waiting for the stroke of midnight.

The anticipation of that moment made Adriana
lean forward. She knew it was about to happen, she could see it,
feel it. She could almost hear the rustling of the grass as the
people stood anxiously waiting and yet, and yet... it was a
painting. Nothing was really going to happen.

Almost incongruously was a pack of wolves off
in the lower right hand corner of the painting. They stood glaring
at the standing stones amidst a stand of trees. Some stood with
teeth bared. Each was ready to pounce and attack at any moment. The
moon–shadows hung around them. The closeness of the trees made it
impossible to tell just how many animals there were. No matter—they
were menacing. More menacing and frightening than anything, Adriana
gave a small shiver as she sat there looking at them.

Sitting back and taking another bite of her
bread, she realized what had to be done.

With her mouth still full, she went running
from the room. “Henrietta! Henrietta!” she called as she ran down
the stairs. Where was she?

Her companion came rushing from the upstairs
sitting room. “What is it? Adriana, are you all right? What’s
wrong?”

Adriana pulled Henrietta back into the
sitting room and then took a moment to catch her breath and swallow
her food.

“Just calm down, dear, it’s all right, just
relax,” Henrietta said patting her hand comfortingly.

Adriana took a deep breath. “I need you to go
out. I need you to deliver that painting to Morgan—to Mr.
Vallentyn.”

“What? After all that’s happened? Didn’t you
say you never wanted to speak with him or see him ever again?”
Henrietta was now the one becoming agitated, and Adriana wished
she’d never told her companion all that had happened.

“Yes, but it is vitally important. Please,
Henrietta, you must go. If you don’t...” Adriana steeled herself,
“If you don’t go and take it to him, I will. And I truly mean it.
This painting has got to be given to him. No matter what he has
done. No matter what I have said.
He has to get this
painting
.”

Henrietta just stood, looking at her as if
she had completely lost her mind, and to be honest, she wasn’t
entirely certain that she hadn’t.

“Please?” she asked again.

Finally, shaking her head sadly, Henrietta
said, “Very well, but only to keep you away from him. If he must
have it, I will bring it to him.”

Adriana pulled her companion into a hug.
“Thank you!”

<><><>

“Morgan, you can’t go,” Cosmina said,
sounding more like a coaxing mother than ever before. “Truly, my
dear, it isn’t the right thing to do. You know this.”

“No really, Mr. Vallentyn. She is right this
time, you cannot simply leave,” Nestor said, adding his voice to
Cosmina’s.

“Well, I am glad to see you two finally in
agreement on something,” Morgan laughed forcibly, hardly pausing in
his packing. There was no humor in his laughter, however, no place
for happiness in his heart.

“Yes, on this we definitely agree. You cannot
allow Miss Hayden to drive you from London. There are many more
young ladies. She is not the end of the world, my dear,” Cosmina
said. “I am certain if you put your mind to it, or perhaps attend
another fancy ball, you’ll find someone else just as...”

“Cosmina,” Morgan said warningly. “There is
no one who could ever replace Adriana. There never could be.”

“Well, no of course not,” she said, quickly
retracing her steps. “But there will be others.”

“No. Not for me.”

“Then don’t think about the young lady, sir,”
Nestor said. “Think about your powers. How are you going to find
out what your powers are and where they have come from? You still
haven’t found a satisfactory answer.”

Morgan stopped what he was doing and
straightened up. “I don’t know about that, Nestor. I don’t know if
I have found the answer or not.”