Magic In The Storm by Meredith Bond

him or Lady Vallentyn that
Lord Vallentyn and I shouldn’t marry. I’ve got to.”
    “You can’t just tell your guardian that you
don’t wish to marry?”
    Adriana gave a little laugh at that. “Oh, no.
He could care less about what I want. He’s only concerned with
what’s best for himself, and somehow he’s become convinced that
this marriage would be to his advantage.”
    Morgan stared at the ground, deep in thought
for a moment. “I know what it’s like to have no one care for you or
what you want,” he said, almost in a whisper.
    Adriana’s breath caught in her throat; her
eyes stung with tears. The emotion, the sadness with which he said
this—it touched her deep inside.
    Without a thought, she moved back and sat
down on the ground next to him, wishing she could take him into her
arms. In his deep, black eyes, he looked so sad and lost. His long
hair hung loose about his shoulders—one side tucked behind his ear,
the other brushing his cheek, the length of it grazing his collar
bone. Somehow it just added to his beauty, and his sorrow.
    Once again, she found her hand in his as she
looked deeply into his eyes. “You’re all alone here,” she said
quietly, knowing that this was true.
    He nodded, “And you?”
    She tilted her head slightly without breaking
their eye contact, to indicate that she was.
    She gave a little shrug. “But I have my
painting.”
    “I take care of the animals,” he said, giving
her a little smile. And just like that, she didn’t feel so lonely
anymore.
    Moving away from the fire, he positioned
himself so close to her their knees touched, but she didn’t move
away—she didn’t want to.
    Gently, he brushed his rough fingers down her
cheek. “You are so beautiful.”
    Adriana felt her face heat with
embarrassment. No one had ever called her beautiful before, and
never with such softness and truth in his voice. Her cheek burned
at the spot where his fingers had grazed it.
    “You make me feel beautiful,” she
whispered.
    He smiled. “You make me feel good.”
    “Why is it that, with you, I’m happy?”
    He laughed quietly. “I don’t know. I wish I
understood how or why this is, but I can’t explain it any more than
you.”
    I only know this is right,” he added, leaning
forward. Very slowly, with a touch as light as the wings of a
butterfly, Morgan brushed his lips against hers, sending shocks
throughout her body.
    He withdrew for a moment, and then slowly he
pressed his lips more firmly to hers. Warmth, connection,
completeness: they all flooded through Adriana. She closed her
eyes, and for the first time, allowed all of her other senses and
feelings to explore this wonderful new sensation. It was as if
something deep within the two of them was holding them together—and
would keep them there for all eternity.
    Too soon, he sat back. Adriana opened her
eyes. She wished she hadn’t, because her gaze was immediately
caught by the lengthening of the shadows.
    She jumped up. “It’s so late! I must get back
to the abbey before I’m missed.”
    Morgan stood too, all softness and joy
abruptly gone from his face. “Adriana, no one is allowed to speak
of me. You must not either,” he said quietly, but in a voice that
resonated in her mind. His eyes bore into hers for a moment as he
ran his fingers down her cheek, giving her a sad smile.
    Slowly, Adriana nodded, her mind feeling as
if it were in a fog.
    Then she watched as Morgan turned away from
her and lifted the pot off the fire. He carried it into the barn,
disappearing inside. She, too, turned away and slowly headed back
to the abbey—still feeling the heat of his lips upon hers and
hoping the happiness she had felt with him would not be leaving her
too soon.

 
     
Ten
     
    A driana ignored the
clatter behind her as the tea tray arrived after dinner that night.
Pushing aside the deep red drawing–room drapes, she sat down on the
window seat and looked out at the black night, but saw only
reflections in the