Guardian - Stolen Magic - Part 22
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Part 22

As the four of them curtseyed or bowed, looking anxious, Lady Beth said warmly, "Welcome to my home. Is anyone hungry, or shall I just put you all to bed?"

"Rest, please," Breeda said. Her freckles stood out against a face pale with fatigue. Her three comrades nodded.

Jean Macrae entered the entry hall, smothering a yawn and also wearing a night robe. "You are having a party and didn't invite me? For shame, Lady Beth."

Lady Bethany turned to Jean and introduced the thralls. "Will you take these young people to bedrooms and get them settled? They've had a hard time."

Thinking the newly freed captives would be nervous in a strange place, Meg suggested, "Jemmy and Moses can share one room and Breeda and Lily another."

Understanding, Lady Bethany nodded. "Jean, you help Lily and Breeda up to the yellow room. Simon, take the young men to the blue room and see they have whatever they need. I'l ring for a man to take care of the horses." She tugged on a bell rope.

Everyone obeyed her ladyship's crisp orders willingly. Within minutes, Meg was in a pretty pink room stripping off her dark breeches and coat so she could don one of Jean's nightgowns. The gown was too short, but no matter. Her hands shook with stress and when she looked in the mirror, her appearance was so haggard that she dimmed her mage light so she wouldn't have to see herself.

She brushed and braided her hair and was washing her face when someone knocked on her door. Why did she know beyond doubt that it was Simon? "Come in."

He entered soundlessly, having shed his boots and coat. Despite his dishabille, he looked as calm and handsome as if he had been at a ball instead of dodging a bull and bullets. "Lady Beth put me in the room next door, so I thought I would see how you are before I go to bed. You had a difficult night."

She gave him a crooked smile. "I presume you also want to scold me for recklessly rescuing the thralls. You have every right to be angry-we could have all been killed. We would have been, if not for you."

He shrugged. "Having seen how eager they were to escape, I better understand your need to free them as soon as possible. We succeeded, which is what matters. Sometimes I am too cautious, so perhaps your impulse was for the best."

She thought of Jemmy's near-lethal encounter with the wards, not to mention the pursuit and the shotguns. "You are generous not to scold. Next time I shall try to be more cautious."

He became more alert. "Next time? Surely you aren't already planning an a.s.sault on Drayton's town house. Rescuing the fifth thrall will be far more difficult than invading Brentford Abbey."

"I have no plans yet. I was speaking in more general terms." Though she did want to free that final girl from thralldom as soon as possible. Something about the girl, perhaps her age, demanded action. But this time, she would be less reckless.

Her gaze moved over Simon, admiring his broad shoulders and lean, powerful body. More than anything on earth, she wanted to feel his arms around her to take away the fear and fatigue of the night. And someday she would like to loosen his blond hair. It would feel like living gold in her hands.

Perhaps it was time to give in to another impulse. She crossed the room and walked straight into his arms. As he drew her close, she gave a long sigh of release. He felt so warm and strong and present. "I wish you could stay the night. Just to sleep."

He hesitated. "I'd like that, too. If you're sure."

"I'm sure." She tilted her head back to look at him. "If it wouldn't be too . . . too provocative for you."

He smiled wearily. "Believe me, tonight I want nothing but sleep. Preferably with you." He draped an arm around her shoulders and steered her to the bed, then tossed the covers back.

The bed was high and she was summoning the energy to climb into it when he scooped her up and deposited her in the middle of the mattress. She blinked up at him. "Don't you ever run out of strength?"

"With some frequency." He climbed onto the mattress beside her, dousing her mage lights. "But I'm rather good at concealing that." He rolled onto his side and pulled the covers over them before enfolding her in his arms.

When she heard his long, weary exhalation, she recognized that he'd spoken the truth. He also was exhausted, and perhaps he needed this closeness as much as she did. As she relaxed back into him, she murmured, "No wonder people get married."

His low chuckle teased her hair. "There has to be some reason."

His large hand gently stroked her arm and hip. Though there was nothing overtly s.e.xual about his touch, she found that she wanted to melt into him. Become one flesh. How fortunate she was so tired.

In the last moments before sleep claimed her, she said sleepily, "Tomorrow will be an interesting day. I wonder what our thralls will be like when the spells are lifted."

"Not as fierce as you, I hope. I definitely haven't the strength for that."

A smile on her lips, she finally slept.

Meg awoke to sunshine pouring in the windows. It must be nearly noon-and one part of Simon seemed particularly awake. Lazily mischievous, she rubbed her rump against him.

He caught his breath and his arm tightened around her waist. "Time to be up and away, I think." He let go of her and swung from the bed.

"You have entirely too much self-control," she said regretfully. The bed seemed far too empty without him.

"One of us needs it, my wicked maiden," he said with amus.e.m.e.nt. "Rise and greet the day. Aren't you curious to learn more about the young people you rescued? I don't think any of them have power on the magnitude of yours, but they have significant talents. I'm particularly interested in learning more about Moses."

"Knocking out five men was impressive. I wonder how he did that?"

"He may not know how he did it. He was acting from instinct because his friends were threatened," Simon said thoughtfully. "He may have been using an African magic different from ours."

"Why would African magic be different from English magic?"

"Magic is drawn from the earth, from nature. Africa is a powerful, ancient part of the world. I would not expect an African mage to be exactly the same as one of us."

She sat up, the covers tumbling to her waist. "I wonder if any of them will be able to remember their past."

Simon's gaze went to the loose neckline of her nightgown, which was dipping dangerously low. "Oh, the devil," he muttered. "I've earned something after last night." He leaned over the bed and kissed Meg with devastating thoroughness.

His hair was like living gold. She tunneled her fingers into the thick waves as they fell into each other. His kiss was magic, stirring power through her until she felt ready to burst with exaltation. She didn't realize that she was lying on her back with his body pinning her to the mattress until he lifted his head. His eyes were dazed and she recognized that they were a hairsbreadth away from becoming lovers. If he hadn't had the sense to go to bed mostly clothed, they would have already joined.

Simon recognized that also, because he tore himself away from her. "I must stop listening to my lower nature," he panted as he backed toward the door.

Before Meg could respond, he turned and was gone. She touched her lips, wishing they had carried those kisses to their ultimate conclusion.

He had promised that before she left to search for her family, they would become lovers in truth, and he was a man who kept his promises. She wouldn't give him a choice about keeping this one.

As the philosophers said, man was torn between higher and lower nature. Simon's lower nature was definitely winning. When he reached his room, he locked the door and leaned back against it, eyes closed and chest heaving as he struggled to regain control. Whether it was virgin magic or Meg's own sweet, indomitable self, she could bespell him like no other woman ever had. What he had felt for Blanche in his youth was no more than a pale shadow of his attraction to Meg.

Any future they might have wouldn't come until Drayton was stopped. Which meant Simon must get a grip and free the thralls from the spells that bound them. With luck, one of them would have useful information about Drayton. Even if that wasn't the case, at least their power was no longer available to the rogue.

l.u.s.t mastered, for the time being, he washed and neatened his appearance as best he could. If he had known they were going on an overnight raid, he would have brought a change of linen.

He met Lady Beth in the breakfast parlor. She had long since eaten, but she sipped at a cup of tea while writing in her journal. Raising her head, she glanced over the top of her spectacles, looking like the mildest of grandmothers. "I've strengthened the wards on the house so Drayton can't reach the thralls, but I've felt his energy sniffing around the boundaries of the property. You do like to keep an old woman challenged."

He made a rude noise. "Don't think you can fool me by playing the part of an innocent old lady. I know you too well."

"I would never claim innocence, but I am certainly an old lady." She brushed at her silvery hair. "Your children are all awake and fed. They're an interesting lot. I wonder who you'l bring to my doorstep next time."

He helped himself to food from the sideboard. "If you didn't have such conveniently located houses, I would turn up on other people's doorsteps." He gave a crooked smile. "I'm grateful to be here. It was a near-run thing."

Between bites of food, he summarized the events of the previous evening. Lady Bethany frowned. "I wish I believed this would be enough to persuade everyone in the council, but I suspect that Drayton would again claim that he had taken in orphans from the goodness of his heart and accuse you of hara.s.sing him."

Simon shrugged. "If we deprive him of his power, we reduce the amount of damage he can do. Meg says there's one more thrall at Drayton House, a very powerful one. If we can rescue her, Drayton will be limited to his innate power. That I can handle on my own." He swallowed half a cup of tea in one gulp. "And I will, with or without the council's permission."

Meg appeared in the doorway. Being primly dressed in a borrowed gray gown diminished her appeal not at all. "Good morning." She headed to the sideboard and helped herself to tea and bread and b.u.t.ter. "Do we have a plan of action yet?"

"I looked at the binding spells and it's best if you undo them, Simon," Lady Bethany said. "It will be a delicate business, but you were successful with Meg so you're best suited to do it again. You might want to work with him, Meg. The four of them are very nervous and could use your soothing touch."

"I do want to be there." Meg swallowed the last of her toast. "Who first?"

"Lily," Simon replied. "She has suffered the most from Drayton's draining of her power. She would not have lasted much longer."

Meg stood. "Then let us find her."

"Try the garden," Lady Bethany advised. "The rose arbor, I believe. For the magical work, use the morning room, Simon. That has particularly good energy." She returned to her journal writing, probably recording details of the latest magical dilemma to land in her lap.

Together, Simon and Meg left the house. As Lady Beth had said, the four thralls had settled under the arching trellises of the rose garden. The scent of sun-warmed roses filled the garden, and two hundred paces beyond, the Thames flowed east to London, with an occasional boat gliding by. It was a peaceful place to recover from horror. Simon paused. "You probably noticed that two ley lines intersect here. One is a line that runs through Brentford Abbey while the other is much less powerful, but it's still a significant energy center. It's why Lady Bethany and her husband built their home on this spot. I doubt it' s an accident that the thralls have gathered right at the intersection of the lines."

Meg narrowed her eyes to look for the lines, then nodded. "Earth energy seems to be a pure, healthy kind of power. Perhaps it helped them in their captivity and they are still drawn to it."

Lily and Breeda sat on one stone bench with Moses opposite, while Jemmy was curled in a ball at the African boy's feet. Simon observed, "Despite their silence, they are all connected to each other. Can you see that?"

Meg's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "They have become a family, joined by a web of emotion and caring. That must have helped them survive."

Hearing wistfulness in her voice, he said quietly, "You are no longer alone, Meg."

"Everyone has been very kind." She raised her voice, effectively cutting off the subject. "Good day. I hope you are well?"

"Good morning, my lady. Sir." The thralls stood. They looked much better than they had the night before, though they still had the blank expressions of enthrallment. Breeda and Lily bobbed curtseys, while Moses bowed. Jemmy mimicked him a little clumsily. Simon tried to recall if he'd heard Jemmy say anything. Perhaps the boy couldn't talk? They would find out soon enough.

"Good morning to you. Have you been well cared for?" Simon gestured for them to sit down.

"Free!" Breeda smiled. Her face was full of healthy color this morning. The others nodded their agreement.

"Freedom is only the beginning," Simon said. "Do any of you remember being captured, then having your thoughts changed so that you felt like a different person?"

They all nodded. Lily said with a frown, "The lord did something to Lily. Not sure what, but wrong."

"What is wrong can now be set right," he said. "Will you trust me to try?"

Breeda and Jemmy looked uncertain, but Lily and Moses both nodded. "Lily, you're first. We'l go into the morning room." Simon's glance moved from face to face while he projected trust and hope. "You will see how Lily is made right before you decide if you want healing, too. Unlike Drayton, we will not force you."

Meg asked, "Lily, do you need help to reach the house?"

The girl shook her head. "Stronger today."

Indeed she was, able to walk up the slope and into the house without aid. The morning room was pleasant and filled with light-a good place to chase away dark shadows. He guessed that Lady Bethany had performed a great deal of wholesome magic here over the years, because the room radiated positive energy.

Lily was quiet but tense, unsure what would happen. Meg said, "Lily, let's sit on the sofa together. I will be right here while Lord Falconer heals what is wrong."

Lily's eyes widened as she took her seat. "Lord?"

"He can't help being a lord," Meg said, a glint of humor in her eyes. "He is a good lord, not like the wicked lord who imprisoned you. Just relax. You will feel something like a touch in your mind. It will seem strange, but it won't hurt. When he is done, your mind will be right again."

Simon wished he shared her confidence. As Lady Beth had said, this was a delicate operation. The fact that he had succeeded with Meg didn't mean there were no risks now. He set a wooden chair in front of Lily. "I will take your hands. As Meg said, this will feel odd, but it is needful."

Lily nodded. Her hands were cold, but she didn't flinch, just closed her eyes. Simon guessed that she was benefiting from Meg's calming skills.

He approached the bindings on her mind cautiously. There was no illusion spell as had been used on Meg. He wasn't sure if that was because Drayton felt it unnecessary, or if Lily didn't have enough spare power to maintain such a spell.

Whatever the reason, it simplified his task. He probed for the essence of Lily and the spells that overlaid her. The block he'd made in the silver thread connecting her to Drayton was holding well. Simon attempted to cut it, again without success. He wondered how Drayton had made the connection so impervious to separation. Was it a product of great power, or a particularly clever spell from some old grimoire? Once Simon understood the spell, he should be able to develop a countermeasure.

He frowned when he discovered a cl.u.s.ter of threads so gossamer light they were almost undetectable. Cautiously he tw.a.n.ged one and identified it as a connection to Breeda. It was impossible to sort all the threads out, but they seemed to be connections and interconnections among the thralls.

The result was a multilayered web composed of the same indestructible skeins of energy as the more-visible attachment to Drayton. Given the emotional sustenance Lily found with her fellows, he didn't try to knot any of the threads to cut off the energy flow.

Next he turned his attention to the bindings on her intelligence and personality. The spells were similar to those used on Meg, though not identical because they were tuned to Lily's individual nature. He released the dark knots tied around her personality first, and felt a rush of sweet awareness. Then he loosened the bonds around her intelligence, thread by thread, and discovered a steady, empathic mind.

Finally he looked for the silver apple of trapped energy that he had found in Meg. The thread from Drayton led right to it, except that this time it wasn't an apple. More the size of a nutmeg. Guessing that it reflected the fact that Lily had less power, he was gentle when he dissolved the structure with white light, freeing what was caged within.

Lily gasped and her eyes flew open. "Merciful heaven!"

Simon released her hands, glad that her reaction was less intense than Meg's had been. "Do you feel ' right' now?"

She frowned as her mind turned inward. "I am myself again. How?"

He glanced at Meg. "It might be easiest if you tell her the story through mind-touch. Then she can ask whatever questions she has."

Meg nodded and laid her palm on Lily's forehead. It was only a few minutes before the girl-no, she no longer looked like a girl, but a young woman-said slowly, "I see. Lord Drayton was stealing my magic, and taking my soul with it."

"Did you know that you had magic?" Simon asked, intrigued at how calmly she accepted the fact of magic's existence.

She nodded. "My mother made charms for local women who wanted to find love or health or missing possessions. I learned from her. As I grew, it became clear that my charms worked very well-much better than my mother's. She said that I had an unusual amount of magic in my spirit." A shadow fell across her eyes. "But not enough to save my parents and little brother from a putrid fever."

"You remember your past?" Meg asked with surprise.

"Of course," Lily said, surprised by the question. "I'm Lily Winters from Bristol. My father is"-her voice faltered-"rather, he was, an apothecary. My mother said that his doses took care of the body while hers were for the soul."

"Did you remember all this when you were enthralled?"

Lily hesitated. "I . . . I think I knew only my name. I don't remember much of that time. It was like living in a fog from the channel. I don't know how long it lasted."

"Now it is August in the year of our Lord 1748. Does that help?"

"My last memory is a Michaelmas fair in 1746. I was with my cousins, for they took me in after my parents died. I had been in mourning for many months, and the fair was my first return to frivolity. Then I met him. Lord Drayton. He seemed a perfect gentleman. When my cousins wanted to watch the racing, he offered to escort me to the Punch and Judy show. I never thought to worry with so many people around. And then . . . and then . . ." Her expression changed as she recognized the enormity of what she had suffered. "That wicked man stole two years of my life!"

"He stole ten of mine," Meg said quietly. "I was held at his family seat, on the edge of Wales. He had no one else enthralled there."

"Oh, my lady!" Lily clasped Meg's hand sympathetically. "How did you bear it?"

"At the time, I knew no better. Since Lord Falconer freed me, I have been angry." Meg tried to keep her voice level. "Unlike you, I remember nothing of my own life."

"Surely that will improve with time," Lily said comfortingly. Her expression changed. "Now it is time to heal my friends."