Guardian - Stolen Magic Part 10

"Hyde Park. It's the largest park in London and less than ten minutes' ride away." Simon swung into his saddle and side by side they trotted into the street. Despite Oakleaf's high spirits, he behaved well in the crowded streets around the park.

The horse wasn't a usual lady's mount, so she gave Simon credit for understanding her riding skill. Of course, she had ridden him, so he would know. She suppressed a smile at the thought. His time as a unicorn seemed like a dream. It was impossible to think of this elegant, controlled London lord as a beast from legend.

The greenery of the park was a sight for her city-wearied eyes. Once they entered, Simon led the way to a broad, tree-lined track with only a single other rider visible in the distance. "Welcome to Rotten Row. Since the hour is unfas.h.i.+onable, you can gallop to your heart's content."

She gave Oakleaf his head and they bolted forward like an arrow shot from a bow. Heavens, how she had needed this! She raced to the far end of the track, then spun Oakleaf in a tight turn and blazed back again. For the moment, she was Meggie again, and free.

As Oakleaf slowed to a more moderate pace, she thought of how much she had changed in the last fortnight. Though she was no longer in thrall to Lord Drayton, society and responsibility had created new constraints. Perhaps there was no such thing as true freedom. At least now she had choices.

She turned for a second time and cantered along the track until she intercepted Simon, who was also slowing down after giving Shadow free rein. "I think I may come here every day."

"Early morning is very pleasant." He turned Shadow and the horses fell into step as they moved toward the far end of Rotten Row. "How are the lessons going?"

"Lady Bethany has provided me with an overall framework of understanding what is possible, while her tutors have all been very patient. I have only a small trace of healing ability, but Lady Sterling says I have a talent for scrying and communicating and Jean says I'm doing well with protection magic. It's all most interesting."

He glanced sideways, his eyes narrowed. "It feels as if you have better control over your power now. Lady Beth says you've impressed your tutors greatly."

She rode for a dozen paces in silence, wondering why compliments had such a powerful effect on her. The answer appeared as soon as she thought of the question: for too many years, she had been treated as if she was worthless. It was exciting and also alarming to have people speak well of her. "The more I build my strength, the sooner I will be safe. Sometimes at night, I . . . I can feel Lord Drayton tugging at me."

After a silence, Simon said, "So can I. Though he can't break our s.h.i.+elds, the invisible hooks he has planted make it possible for him to poke. He hasn't caused harm, has he?"

"No, he's more like a stinging insect. Harmless but irritating." She s.h.i.+vered. "I'l be so glad when next week's hearing is over. If the council strips him of power, surely he will no longer be able to sting."

"You would be free of him. I may not, because of the nature of the spell." He shrugged. "If I don't lose my temper for the rest of my life, I should have no more problems with the unicorn spell."

She gave him a startled glance. "Surely you're joking!"

"I'm not. Luckily I am not p.r.o.ne to anger." He frowned. "Though my control over my temper has been shaken by living in beast form. I imagine that will pa.s.s in time."

"I'm glad I won't have to live my life without ever losing my temper. I'd have hooves and a horn in no time!"

He laughed. "I expect you would deal with life as a unicorn better than I, but fortunately you won't have to. Do be careful about your temper, though. You might not turn into a unicorn, but when a Guardian is careless with anger, the results can be dangerous."

She thought about the flowers she had withered, and was grateful that she had done no worse damage.

But she felt no anger now. She opened her mind to the emotions of the horses and Simon himself. All of them were enjoying the day, and feeling the pleasure of other beings increased her own pleasure.

As Simon had said, her sensitivity to the city's mental noise had faded after the first few days, and now she hardly noticed it at all. Experimentally she reached out to the other living creatures in the park. Birds had sparkling energies like bright chips of quartz. The darting black squirrels had minds as quick as their supple bodies.

She reached further to test the moods of the people in the park. Most were happy, or at least glad to be enjoying the pleasant day, but some were worried or feeling other, darker emotions. She was relieved she couldn't go any more deeply than surface feelings.

A blast of terror and pain shot through her. Woven around that pain were sick, gloating thoughts that rejoiced in doing harm. She gasped and tightened her grip on the reins as scalding emotions tumbled through her.

Simon swung around to look at her. "What's wrong?"

She tried to sort out the jumbled impressions. "Some creature is being hurt. There!"

Spotting two boys under the trees lining Rotten Row, she commanded Oakleaf toward them at full speed. The animal gave a thin scream. She didn't realize that she had mentally struck at the boys until she felt Simon deflecting her blow.

" 'Ey, look!" One of the boys shouted a warning as he saw the horse thundering down on them. Abandoning their victim, they bolted into the trees.

Furiously Meg aimed another mental blow at them as she reined in her horse, then tumbled from her saddle. On the ground lay a b.l.o.o.d.y sc.r.a.p of orange fur-a young cat, hardly more than a kitten. It was still alive-she could feel its agony.

Tears in her eyes, she dropped to her knees and gently lifted the broken body. "I wish I were a healer!"

Hoping the simple spells she had learned would help, she calmed herself and invoked the enchantment designed for overall healing. The little cat stirred and licked at her hand, but its head fell back again. One eye was a b.l.o.o.d.y mess and its breath came in ragged gasps. The white of broken bones poked through the soft fur.

"It's too late, Meg," Simon said gently. He had knelt beside her, his sympathy palpable. "This poor creature is hurt too badly to survive."

"How can people be so cruel?" By now, the tears were streaming down her face. "Why did you stop me from hitting those horrible boys?"

"A punishment should suit the crime. What they did was vile, but they weren't more than ten or twelve. Crippling them for life seemed a little harsh."

She supposed he was right, though at the moment crippling those monster boys seemed like a good idea. The kitten drew another anguished breath and Meg knew it was on the verge of death. "Can't you do anything, Simon?" she begged as she held the injured cat toward him. "You have so much power and training."

He let her place the small body in his hands. "I have no healing power, Meg. It doesn't go with hunting skills. I know only the spells you do."

"Then use them! Maybe you can do them better than I." She pulled off her gloves so they wouldn't interfere with the healing spells, then cupped her hands under his. Maybe their combined power could make a difference.

"I'l try." He gazed down at the injured animal, his expression abstracted. Energy began pulsing through him. To her shock, his hands heated up. She released him, startled and uneasy. Waves of brightness resonated between his palms, surrounding and permeating the injured cat until its outlines blurred.

The energy burned for what seemed a long time, then began to fade. When the last of the light vanished, the cat drew a deep breath, then another. No longer was it gasping for air, and the jagged bones had disappeared. It rolled over and sat up, looking around curiously. Still balanced in Simon's hands, it began to groom itself, licking the blood from its fur. Both golden eyes were intact. It was a skinny little thing, but it now looked perfectly healthy.

"Dear heaven," Meg whispered. "I thought you had no healing power."

"I didn't." From his expression, Simon was as shaken as Meg. "I've never been able to do anything but routine healing spells." He scratched the young cat's head with one finger. It began to purr.

"This must be startling, but surely in a good way?"

"The healing power must come from having been a unicorn," he said slowly. "Unicorn horn was a legendary source of healing. I was able to help Lady Bethany when she collapsed after Drayton's attack. Apparently some of that energy stayed with me."

"What a miraculous gift! Think of the lives you can save."

He shook his head. "Not necessarily. It takes less energy to heal a small creature than a large one. Very few Guardians have the power to do a major healing on a human. Also, I suspect that this healing energy is temporary and will fade in time."

If true, that was unfortunate. "Even if you never do a larger healing, saving this little cat is worthwhile."

His gaze locked with hers. "Any tender heart would sorrow to see an innocent creature tortured, but your reaction went beyond that. Why?"

She thought about that, realizing that her fury had been out of proportion. "Because I was helpless for so long, and I can't bear to see something helpless abused."

He nodded with understanding. As he knelt opposite her, he seemed carved from sunlight, his blond hair s.h.i.+ning with gold and silver and bronze threads, his face chiseled with the symmetry of an antique statue. Though his expression had the calm of cla.s.sical sculpture, she could sense profound disquiet in him. If being a unicorn had granted him healing energy, what other changes had the magic wrought? For a man who had spent a lifetime exploring and cultivating his powers, developing surprising new abilities must be unnerving, to say the least.

She reached out with her mind as she would to an anxious horse-and touched magic. Light danced between them, and deep, deep longing. She felt as if she were falling into those blue, perceptive eyes that had seen things beyond her imagination. This was treacherous closeness, more potent than the touching when he helped her mount her horse. She felt an ancient, very human magic in her desire to be closer yet. Would it be shocking if she kissed him?

He met her halfway, his lips coming to rest on hers. Her eyes closed as she drank him in, her mouth opening under his. What did it matter if this was real attraction or a result of the unicorn spell? It was real enough. . . .

The cat jumped onto Meg's forearm and raced up to her shoulder, the little claws like needles. Megjumped and broke the kiss.Seeing his darkening expression, she said, "Please don't get angry with yourself. I don't want to have to bite you again."After a startled instant, he laughed and sat back on his heels. "Thank you for reminding me of the consequences. I must simply accept that I will continue to be attracted to you, no matter how unwise itis."She cuddled the cat against her shoulder. It had a remarkable purr for such a small creature. "I'm having trouble remembering why acting on attraction is unwise.""I feel it would be wrong to exploit your innocence, and you want to preserve your freedom while you discover your true self," he said succinctly. "Plus, there is the power of your virginity, which is toovaluable just now to waste on mere pleasure.""I suppose you're right." His reasons were sound. Yet as her gaze lingered on his warm, expressive mouth, she realized how frail the logic of the mind could be when compared to the pa.s.sion of the body.Grasping at a change of topic, she said, "I'm taking this little fellow home. Is that all right?""I'l have a word with Otto and tell him that the cat is not to be chased. Have you a name for him yet?""Lucky," she decided. "Because he is."Simon smiled. "Why do I think that Lucky will be the first of your own private menagerie?"She smiled back. "Because he is."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Mr. and Mrs. David White have arrived," the footman announced.

"Send them up." Simon stretched, glad to have an excuse to push the paperwork aside. An earl with vast holdings faced a never-ending stream of doc.u.ments and decisions, even with first-rate employees handling the brunt of the work.

White and his wife entered the study, the man's hand protectively behind her waist. She looked very small next to her husband's gangling height, but the intelligence in her eyes was unmistakable. Simon was intrigued to see light glowing gently around her abdomen, the sign of a new life growing inside her. In the past, he would not have noticed such a thing unless he looked for it. Perhaps greater sensitivity to physical states was another manifestation of unicorn healing magic?

Since she was also painfully nervous, Simon rose and bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. White. I 'm glad you chose to accept my invitation."

"David made me come," she said, then blushed.

"It's true that earls are fearsome creatures," Simon said, amused. "But perhaps we can talk later as mathematician to mathematician. I was impressed with your work."

Her eyes widened. "I . . . I should like that. David can build anything, but he's not so strong on mathematics."

"Then we shall talk theory later. Please, be seated. Have you had time to read the contracts?"

White nodded. "Yes, and they seem very fair. I will be happy to sign."

"Very well. I'l call in my secretary later and he and Mrs. White can also sign as witnesses. So much for the legalities. Is your current workshop adequate, or will you need another?"

"I've been working in our sitting room, and that's well enough for now."

Simon frowned. "Surely Mrs. White shouldn't be exposed to noise and mechanical work in her present condition."

She gasped and turned beet red. "How did you know?"

Knowing was easy, but it was unlike him to blurt out such a thing. The unicorn energy was still uncontrolled, which was disturbing. "There is a glow about women who are increasing," he said, a.s.suming they would take that comment as metaphor rather than literal reality. "I am serious about a separate workshop. You have done wonders with minimal resources, Mr. White, but scrimping is no longer necessary. You need a decent workshop and tools, near your home but not in it. G.o.d forbid you should have a steam boiler explosion in your sitting room!"

Mrs. White looked alarmed. "His lords.h.i.+p is right, my dear. Didn't your friend Bobby say that a house and separate shed are available on his street?"

"That would be perfect, Sarah. But . . ." White turned to Simon. "My friend Bobby lives in a neighborhood with many craftsmen who have come to London from Birmingham, my lord. There would be plenty of mechanical help when I need it, but renting there would cost easily three times what I'm paying now. I'm not sure that's the best use of your money."

Rarely did people worry about spending an earl's money. White's concern was refres.h.i.+ng. "You need to receive a salary separate from the costs of developing your project-money you can spend on yourself and your household without wondering whether I would approve." Simon nodded toward Mrs. White. "I suspect you are an excellent manager."

"She's the best, my lord," White said proudly. His expression turned thoughtful. "There is something I would like to do, but I was doubtful about whether I should. You've heard of Lord Drayton's great technology forum?"

Simon's instincts went on full alert. "No, I haven't, but I've been out of London a great deal. Tell me about this forum."

White leaned forward eagerly. "Lord Drayton wants to bring together men from mechanics and manufactory and natural philosophy so we can talk and learn. He's inviting professors from the universities, experimenters, inventors. And not just men of Britain! They say he's inviting the best, most forward-thinking minds of Europe and even America. What an opportunity it will be to talk to men who are building the future!"

Simon arched his brows, concealing his intense interest. "Is Drayton doing this in connection with his post with the government, or as a private gentleman?"

"I'm not sure," White admitted. "But the forum will be held in two months at a great house in Hertfords.h.i.+re and it will last a week. That's a fair piece of time to take away from my work, but it's close enough to London that it wouldn't be expensive for me to attend. Since you and Lord Drayton are both fellows of the Royal Society, I expect you're friends and you'l be going to the forum, too?"

"I have not received an invitation," Simon said dryly. "It's a very interesting idea, and I think you should by all means attend. But how will you feel if you meet a man who is already building a better steam engine?"

"I'l learn what he's doing, and make one that is better yet," White said with a grin. "There's no shortage of good ideas, and we can all learn from each other. A number of my Birmingham friends will be going. We're the best makers in Britain, you know."

There had to be power involved with bringing together so many men who were active in developing new machines, and surely Drayton was planning to gather that power to himself. "Send notice that you will be attending, Mr. White. And please keep me informed as plans for the forum develop."

"It will be my pleasure, sir."

"Enough of discussing the world. Now it's time to discuss your work. I had a couple of thoughts about the design that I wanted to talk over with you." Simon drew out his notes. Though he hadn't the mechanical skills of White, he did know something of machinery and he was intrigued by the project. "About the lathe . . ."

Mrs. White made a small sound, and Simon glanced up to see that she was looking a little green. "Are you unwell, Mrs. White?"

"Increasing is a great nuisance, my lord." She stood. "Perhaps some fresh air."

Simon sensed her nausea, but also a deeper source of unease, even fear. Perhaps Meg could find out what the problem was. She was nearby and should be between tutors, so he sent her a mental call. They had become good at calling each other. Within moments she entered the study, looking delicious in a pale green gown.

Her glance encompa.s.sed the room. "Good day, Mr. White. I'm sorry to interrupt, Falconer, I only wished to say h.e.l.lo."

"I'm glad you did. Mrs. White could use some fresh air. If you're free, perhaps you could take her out to the garden?"

"I'd be happy to." Meg gave Mrs. White a dazzling smile. Simon felt the impact even though it wasn't directed at him. "I could use some fresh air also."

Murmuring apologies for causing trouble, Mrs. White left with Meg. Turning to White, Simon said, "Now about that lathe . . ."

Meg had begun the day with lessons in magic, and a tiring business it was. After her morning tutor left, Meg collapsed on her bed, exhausted by the concentration required in her lesson on the use of wands and other instruments for focusing power. "It would be less tiring to ride all day, Lucky," she said to the cat, who was curled up beside her on the bed.

Lucky raised his head and regarded her with worried golden eyes. After only a day in Falconer House, he was still frightened of almost everything and everyone except Meg. He was even nervous around Simon, who had healed him. Meg suspected that the half-grown cat would be wary of all males for some time to come since it had been boys who had almost killed him.

She stroked his soft fur, thinking how much his appearance had improved since the day before. He had been frantic when she brought him home, until she used calming magic on him. Simon had commented that she was unusually gifted in working with animals. Meg didn't know about that, but when she communicated with a creature, it never took long to achieve harmony.

Though so far Lucky had stayed in the safety of Meg's rooms, he'd moved from under the bed to on top of it. He'd also cleaned his smudged fur with his own rough little tongue, so his appearance was presentable. He liked the fact that he could eat whenever he wanted, and he had immediately figured out the use of the box of sand one of the Falconer footmen had provided.

Meg scratched the round little head and was rewarded with a purr. Thank heaven Simon had been able to heal the little fellow. Lucky's presence brightened Meg's life.

Her lazy thoughts were interrupted by a clear sense that Simon wanted her to join him. There was no feeling of emergency, but she did feel that promptness would be appreciated. She liked the way they could communicate mentally. It wasn't like hearing him speak, but it wasn't hard to get the sense of what he wanted.

She gave Lucky one last stroke before sliding from the bed and donning her slippers. After smoothing her voluminous green skirts, she presented herself to Simon in his study. As soon as she entered, she saw that the inventor's wife was looking unwell, and it wasn't hard to guess why.

Wanting fresh air herself, Meg led Mrs. White down to the garden. As they stepped into the sun, she remarked, "Isn't this a lovely garden? It seems larger than it is. Since I grew up in the country, I like coming here to see gra.s.s and flowers."

" 'Tis very pretty," Mrs. White agreed. "I've lived in towns and cities my whole life, but like you, I enjoy the greenery. My husband and I will be moving to a new house soon and it has a bit of garden. I shall like that."

Meg guided the other woman to a bench shaded by a rose-covered arbor. "Shall I order some refreshments?"

Mrs. White clapped a hand to her midriff, looking unwell. "That's the last thing I need! Though I thank you for the thought, Lady Falconer." She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. "I'm with child, so this is all normal according to the lady next door. She says I should be feeling better in another month or two."