There had been occasional pregnant maids at Castle Drayton, so Meg knew that was probably true. She had learned a great deal by watching the people around her, being so "simple" that her presence was ignored. "Is this your first child, Mrs. White?"

The woman nodded, her eyes still closed. Meg frowned, feeling a tug of something not quite right. Mrs. White was more than physically unwell. Something else was troubling her. "Forgive me for prying, but is there something wrong?"

Mrs. White opened her eyes. They were a lovely tear-washed gray. "I'm afraid I will die in childbed," she blurted out. "My mother did. I daren't say so to David because it would worry him, but what will happen to him if I die? He's wonderful clever, but has not a lick of common sense." She put her head into her hands and burst into tears.

Meg laid a hand on her shoulder. "No wonder you're upset! Not to mention that carrying a child makes one want to cry even if there's nothing wrong."

"Do you have children?"

"No!" Meg said, startled by a thought that seemed very alien. "Falconer and I have only just wed. But I' ve known other women in the family way, and tears always can be very close to the surface."

Mrs. White pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and used it to blot her eyes and blow her nose. "I'm sorry to inflict the tears on you, my lady. It's just . . . I wish so much that my mother were alive! I would feel less afraid, and I'd have her to cry on."

Guessing that Mrs. White needed a friend, Meg said, "Bother the t.i.tle. I haven't been a lady for very long. My name is Meg, and better you should cry in front of me than your husband. The poor man looked worried enough when you left the room."

The other woman laughed a little. "The prospect of fatherhood has him awed and terrified. And I am Sarah, my lady." She halted. "I'm sorry about the 'my lady.' "

Meg chuckled. "I smile whenever I hear the t.i.tle. My mother always thought I was a proper hoyden." And where did that come from, she wondered in amazement. Perhaps her memory was starting to return? Yet she could remember nothing of her mother, or when such words had been said. She just knew they were true.

Putting that aside to consider later, she said more seriously, "It is normal to have fears when carrying a child, yet I feel sure that you will be delivered safely. A little boy."

Sarah stared at her. "Are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

No, Meg had had a flash of foreknowledge. Eerily, she had the sense that Sarah might go on to have two more healthy children, but only if her husband survived the danger that hovered around him.

The knowledge was deeply disquieting. Making her voice light, she said, "There have been midwives in my family, so all the females have a gift for seeing when a birth will go easily." Unlike her hoyden comment, this was pure invention, but a harmless one. "As to whether it will be a boy or girl-well, I was just guessing at that, but the odds are equal that I'l be right!"

Sarah laughed. "But you're not guessing about the delivery?"

Meg took Sarah's hand. "I swear that you will bear this child with no danger to you or your son. Please trust me, because fear can undermine your health."

"I . . . I want to believe you."

"Perhaps your mother in heaven is inspiring my words," Meg said softly. "How old were you when you lost her?"

"Seven." Sarah's hand tightened on Meg's. "She died with my newborn sister. I can still hear her screams. . . ."

"She must have been a loving woman for you to remember her so fondly." Meg added a calming spell to her words. She'd learned the spell from Mrs. Evans, the healer. It was much the same as what she did when she was soothing animals. Wanting to distract Sarah from her grief, she continued, "Where did you grow up?"

"In Cambridge. My father was a professor of mathematics." Sarah's smile was brittle. "Since professors can't marry, I'm illegitimate. My mother was my father's housekeeper. After she died, he didn't quite know what to do with me, until he found that I had a talent for mathematics. Not that a woman can do much with the knowledge, but I enjoyed learning, and now I can help David."

"You had an unusual upbringing, Sarah, but you seem to have used it well. Is your father still alive?"

Sarah shook her head. "He died when I was nineteen. He was too vague to have made a will naming me his heir, so his brothers swooped down and took everything. Being merciful, they bought me a coach ticket to Birmingham, where my mother had a sister I'd never met."

"Dear heavens, how despicable of your uncles! I hope your aunt was kind?"

"Yes, though she had children of her own and didn't need another mouth to feed." Sarah smiled and her face lit up as if she'd swallowed a candle. "But then I met David, so it was all worthwhile. He was willing to take me without a dowry, and no woman could have a better husband."

"You are both blessed," Meg said softly.

"So we are." Sarah clenched her hands together in her lap. "There is something I think you and Lord Falconer should know. David and I are Dissenters, my lady. Neither of us will change even if it means that Lord Falconer rescinds his funding."

It took a moment for Meg to understand Sarah's concern. Dissenters from the Church of England were banned from many activities, including public office and attending the most famous schools and universities. Some employers wouldn't hire people who were chapel, not church. Somewhere in her lost past, such questions were important, though she couldn't remember any details. "I can't see how that would affect your husband's ability to build a steam engine or yours to do calculations."

Sarah relaxed. "You don't mind?"" 'In my father's house are many mansions,' " Meg quoted, and then wondered where that had come from. "I think G.o.d is more concerned with how we live our lives than in the details of how we worshipHim."Sarah's gaze was level. "I could never have imagined a countess like you.""Well, I haven't been one for very long." Was still not one, in fact. "Perhaps in time I will become haughty and intolerant."Sarah laughed. "I can't imagine that, either. Thank you for your kindness, Meg.""You seem to be feeling better. I've heard that tea and dry toast go down easily when one's stomach is delicate. Does that sound appealing?""Actually, it does," Sarah said with surprise. "In fact, now that I'm feeling better, I'm ravenous.""Then we shall see that you are fed. Both of you." Meg ushered Sarah back to the house. She hoped that today she had made another friend.

Chapter.

FOURTEEN.

After Sarah and Meg shared tea and cakes, Meg returned the other woman to Simon's study, where the men were still happily discussing things mechanical. Simon gave her a warm smile that made her embarra.s.singly aware of the brief kiss they'd shared the day before. She wasn't sure whether to be glad or sorry that Lucky had interrupted them before matters had gone too far. The attraction between them was the sweetest thing she'd experienced since waking up to herself, but it was best not explored. Especially not in a public park, where anyone might ride by!

Thoughtfully she returned to her rooms and settled into the comfortable wing chair she used for meditation. It was time to explore the interesting bits of knowledge that had floated into her mind when she spoke with Sarah.

It was surprisingly difficult to slow down a mind, she had discovered. To concentrate, she started by focusing on the quill pen on her desk. It was much easier to lift now than in the beginning. She could move slightly larger objects, too, but suspected that this particular ability would never be more than a parlor trick. It would be much more useful if she could lift a book and bring it across the room to read, but she doubted she would ever be able to manage that much weight.

When her thoughts were as still as she could make them, she let the word "hoyden" float into her consciousness. Immediately she found what seemed like a true memory of her mother calling her that in a loving, rueful way. Filled with hope, Meg tried to conjure a face, a tone of voice, a location-anything to expand the memory. She failed, yet she had a powerful sense that more memories lay just on the other side of an invisible barrier. Maddeningly, she couldn't reach them.

Might that barrier be part of Drayton's magic? She explored the mental block and found that it had a stretchy quality, like fabric. There was some flex, but the block was impenetrable and it seemed to extend in all directions. She let her mind drift along the barrier-and ran smack into Drayton's consciousness.

She gasped, feeling as if she had fallen into a pit full of vipers. A faint thread of connection with Drayton was always present, but he couldn't reach her through it, so usually she could ignore him. Now she had blundered right into his mind.

He reacted with surprise that changed swiftly into a vicious hunger, as if he were a wolf and she were a rabbit that had fallen at his feet. His energy exploded around her, thick and suffocating.

She pulled away frantically, fleeing to the safety of her own mind while she invoked every shield she had been taught. She added layers until he felt distant, no longer a threat, but she had the ghastly sense that he was sniffing around her borders, looking for a c.h.i.n.k in her defenses.

Lucky bounced onto Meg's lap and almost broke her concentration. After a rattled moment, she steadied her shields, at the same time cuddling the cat close. His physical warmth and affection helped counter Drayton's a.s.sault.

As his siege continued, a faint burn of power began flowing into her. Not Drayton-something friendly. Simon? No, the flavor of the power was nothing like him.

Lord, she was absorbing feline energy from Lucky! Though slight, the flavor was ancient and feral. Gradually it filled her, like wine pouring into a goblet. The next time Drayton prodded her, she slashed out with a predator's fierceness, raging to tear his spirit to ribbons. He vanished between one heartbeat and the next.

Disoriented, she opened her eyes. Surely he hadn't disappeared from existence? No, she could still feel the faint thread that connected them, but he had broken the larger connection to her mind when she attacked him.

How had she used Lucky's energy? He was just a small cat, so it wasn't a lot of power. Maybe Lucky had inspired something inside her? Or maybe some essential feline wildness had briefly transformed her? The more she learned of magic, the more questions she had.

For the moment, she was too drained to think about answers. She set Lucky on the floor and got to her feet, swaying. It took all her remaining strength to reach her bed. Too tired to push aside the covers, she flopped onto her back on top of them. The cat jumped up beside her and curled into a ball above her right shoulder. His purr rumbled in her ear.

She closed her eyes, thinking that in a week she would meet Drayton face-to-face at the council hearing. Please G.o.d, he would be condemned and stripped of his power.

She would never feel safe as long as he was alive and a mage.

"Meg? Are you there?" Simon knocked on her door, wondering if she might have fallen asleep. It was past the time they usually met for a predinner drink.

Uneasiness tugged at him. When there was no answer, he opened the door and entered her bedroom. Meg was sprawled on her bed, so still and pale that he wondered if she was dead. No, he felt the pulse of her energy, but this was not a healthy sleep.

The little cat was curled up beside her, and it glanced up with worried golden eyes as Simon sat on the edge of the bed. When he took Meg's hand, it was icy cold. "Meg, wake up!" Though he pitched his voice to penetrate, there was no response.

"Meg!" As he scanned her with inner vision, he placed his hands on the sides of her head and channeled warmth and what he hoped was his newfound healing energy. Though she stirred, she didn't wake. He found the unbreakable thread of connection to Drayton, but the knot he'd tied still held. He could find no other energy hooks buried in her, nor were there any signs of physical injury.

Her eyelids flickered and opened. She stared up at him from point-blank range, her changeable eyes winter gray. "What . . . ?"

"You fell into a trance of some sort and I needed to warm you," he explained, still cradling her head with his hands. "Did Drayton do this?"

"As I visited with Sarah, I had a memory of my mother so I meditated on that. I found a . . . a sort of barrier to the past. When I tried to explore it, I was suddenly right in Drayton's mind." She managed a rusty laugh. "Exactly what you warned me not to do."

"No wonder you went into a trance," he said grimly. "Drayton created the original barrier, so studying it took you to him. Did he steal your energy again?"

Her brow furrowed. "I don't think so. I retreated and threw up my shields, though he was still there, like a fox outside a chicken coop. Then Lucky jumped on my lap and I started to feel his energy joining with mine. I became . . . very feline. The next time I felt Drayton closing in, I . . . I leaped on him like a tiger."

Her smile was uneven but real. "There really aren't good words to describe how magic works, are there? Of course I wasn't a tiger, I just slashed at him mentally. He vanished immediately. I got the impression that he was shocked and perhaps somewhat worried."

"Apparently you were able to merge with some cosmic essence of cat energy and use it to drive Drayton away. Maybe it's a form of wild magic. Dealing with it unexpectedly left you drained." Since she was better, he released her head and placed his left hand over her midriff, just above one of the body's seven energy centers. "Do you still feel catlike?"

She considered. "No. I've always loved cats and I sense them well, but the same is true with most animals. Except insects-it's hard to tune oneself to an ant or a beetle."

Gently he ma.s.saged her midriff with a circular motion. "You don't feel a desire to purr or chase a string?"

She caught her breath, her eyes widening. "What you're doing makes me want to purr, but I don't think that's a result of mentally sharing feline energy."

He paused in his ma.s.saging to touch her cheek. "You're much warmer now. Do you feel better?"

She stretched with a sinuousness that made his mouth dry. "Much better. I can feel your energy flowing through me like a tonic of sunshine."

Knowing he must get away from her, he started to rise. She caught his hand. "Please don't go away. It felt good to have you touch me." She swallowed. "I miss being touched. When I first went to Castle Drayton, there was a cook who would sometimes hug me." Her mouth twisted wryly. "She always said ' poor little mite.' But a hug from pity was better than none at all."

Wary but unable to resist her invitation, he let her tug him down so that he was lying next to her, on his side. Meg wasn't the only one who hungered to be touched. He placed his hand on her midriff again, feeding in more energy since hers was still low. "We must talk to Lady Bethany about this ability to channel animal energy. There should be a way for you to use it without exhausting yourself."

She raised her opposite arm to pet Lucky. "I wonder if I have to be touching an animal to resonate with the energy. Is Otto nearby? I could try with him."

"Not today. You need to recover." He continued making lazy circles on her midriff, acutely aware of the softness of her body and the lavender scent of her silky, unpowdered hair. "Even with you gone, Drayton still seems to have more power than I would expect. Do you know if he had any other energy slaves like you?"

She caught her breath, startled. "Not that I know of, but it's possible. Maybe here in London? That would help keep him strong." She started to push herself up. "How can we find out if there are others? If so, they must be freed!"

Simon pressed her gently back to the bed. "You're right that we need to investigate that-I don't know why I didn't think of it before. But not just now. You need the rest, and I'm enjoying being this close to you."

"I like it, too." She turned her face for a kiss. She was delicious, a unique, alluring blend of innocence and power. He wanted to inhale her essence, make them one together. His hand slid to her breast. Even through layers of gown and undergarments, he could feel the erotic softness.

"Ah, Simon . . ." She raised her hand to his neck, the skin cool against his increasing heat. His heartbeat quickened.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he murmured, but he continued to caress her, his hand moving from one breast to the other, then gradually down her body until he reached the juncture of her thighs. Warmth pulsed under her petticoats. Using the heel of his hand, he rubbed rhythmically. Her hips began rocking, rising to meet him as her breathing roughened.

Intoxicated by her responsiveness, he lost himself in the moment, carried along by pure sensation. The taste of her mouth, mingled scents of lavender and desire, her soft, eager sounds. He was so tired of being alone. . . .

She cried out and shudders ran through her. When they ended, she opened startled eyes and stared at him. "What happened?"

Her question snapped him from his sensual daze. What the devil had he been thinking? He hadn't been thinking, of course-that was the problem. "It was an introduction to the delights of the flesh, my dear."

"Am I no longer a virgin?" She frowned. "That was not like what animals do when they mate."

"As I said, it was an introduction." His body was hard and burning for release, but his control was intact again. He pulled her against him, stroking her back as she buried her face against his shoulder. "One I should not have performed, but at least I came to my senses before taking your virginity."

Voice m.u.f.fled, she said, "Now I understand why the stallions got so excited when the mares went into heat."

He laughed, grateful that she released the tension with a quip. "All male creatures tend to lose their wits when an attractive, willing female is nearby. It's not to our credit."

After a long silence, she said, "How much of a virgin do I have to be in order to save you from transforming into a unicorn?"

"I don't know." As she had recognized, today he had taken a kind of virginity from her. Now she understood something of what pleasure her body might feel, and how a man's touch could affect her. "Different peoples define virginity differently, I've heard. In some lands, a woman is a virgin until she bears a child. I have no idea how unicorns define virginity."

She studied his face. "You don't seem to have the mindless reaction that you had in unicorn form. I hope that doesn't mean I am no longer virgin enough to be useful."

"More likely it means that I find you attractive in the way of a man." Lightly he kissed her forehead. "If I had been in unicorn mode, I don't think I would have been able to control myself, so perhaps the effect of being a beast is waning. I hope so."

"If the unicorn influence fades, will you no longer have healing ability?"

He smiled ruefully. "I have no idea, Meg. We are in unknown territory, magically speaking. I'l be glad when Gwynne Owens arrives in London. As a scholar of obscure Guardian lore, she might have some knowledge of what I can expect."

"If the council rules against Drayton next week, your troubles will be over." She smiled. "And I can start searching for my family."

She was right-but in his bones, he knew it would not be so simple.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Meg dressed with care, wearing the most dignified of her new ensembles. Then she sat in her wing chair and meditated to calm herself. Lastly, she erected her shields and checked that they were at maximum strength. Nonetheless, when Simon knocked at her door, her heart almost leaped out of her chest. "Come in," she managed to say.

He entered and offered his arm. "Courage, my dear. Drayton will not be allowed to harm you. I swear it." He smiled without humor. "Even if it takes the combined efforts of several of us to block him."

"I trust you and Lady Bethany to protect me, but just seeing him . . ." She shuddered as she took his arm. "I might be violently ill."

"If that happens, try to be sick on him."