Guardian - Stolen Magic Part 19

"I'm going to take Meg home now," Simon said to Lady Bethany. "I'm sorry to leave early, but Meg needs peace and quiet."

"Of course." The older woman looked troubled. "This obsession of Drayton's concerns me, Meg. What did he say?"

"That he . . . he wants me for his wife." Meg looked ill at the thought. "He considered several possibilities. One was to change my appearance so I would look like the sort of woman who excites him. Lady Falconer would simply disappear. Then he decided that I should stay myself and sue Simon for an annulment. He wanted me to be perfectly obedient, yet hate him in my heart."

Lady Bethany's mouth thinned. "Despicable. Simon, keep her safe."

"I will." He hugged Meg closer. She seemed drained by her experience. "Rest, my dear. Once more, you have defeated Drayton."

After Lady Beth left, he said, "You'l be more comfortable without the panniers." He raised Meg's skirt and untied the frames, then helped her step out when the panniers and attached underpetticoat collapsed to the floor.

Bemused, she said, "I'l trip," as she surveyed the yards of sumptuous brocade pooled around her ankles.

"No, you won't. Relax now. You don't have to think about anything." He scooped her into his arms and headed for the door.

Meg gave a little sigh and turned her face into his shoulder, her eyes drifting shut. He guessed that she wanted the security of being close as much as he did.

To his surprise, Blanche was waiting in the hall, her eyes worried. He reminded himself to think of her as Lady Arden. They saw each other regularly on social occasions, but they hadn't spoken since the day she had vehemently rejected his offer of marriage.

"Is your wife all right?" Blanche asked.

"She will be," he said tersely.

Blanche's gaze went to Meg's face. "I wouldn't have had the strength to be your wife. She does. I'm sorry, Simon."

It was an apology that covered many things. Simon's wariness eased. "When you refused my offer, your instincts were sound even if your words were ill-chosen. We would not have suited well, Blanche. Are you happy?"

"Yes. Fate is often wiser than we are." She gave the entrancing smile that had once won his heart, then drifted toward the stairwell, one hand trailing along the wall for balance. She must have had some champagne and was still recovering. Blanche never had been able to resist a gla.s.s of champagne.

The thought brought back other memories of their ill-fated courtship ten years before. Blanche had dazzled him, and at first he had intrigued her as well. As he carried Meg down a back stairwell, he realized that Blanche had been right. Fate had been wise. And if she had refused him clumsily, well, she had been young. So had he.

Youth was greatly overrated.

Lady Beth had already summoned his carriage, and a servant had retrieved his hat and Meg's shawl. It required care to climb into the carriage without waking Meg or banging into the frame, but he managed. Once they were inside, he settled her warm, vibrant weight across his lap and draped the shawl over her shoulders.

As the carriage started for Falconer House, he made sure it was well shielded, then concentrated on Meg. She looked like a sleeping child, yet she had fought off a fully trained mage. He felt a tenderness that almost disabled him. More than anything on earth, he wanted to keep her safe, but if not for her own strength, she would have been stolen away again. If this was war, Drayton was winning. The knowledge was bitter.

He brushed back her hair, wishing that her natural dark, silky locks were free of the heavy powder. She had looked stunning tonight-every inch a fashionable lady. Her ability to adapt and pick up new things was-well, magical. He guessed that she was pulling social knowledge from those around her without even realizing it.

Her eyes opened. "Do you still miss Lady Arden?"

Startled, he asked, "How did you know about her?"

"She told me. I think she wanted to a.s.sure herself that I was worthy of you."

"I trust she approved," he said dryly. "Not that it is any of her business."

"She approved." Meg shifted distractingly in his lap. "She seemed very nice. And very beautiful."

Despite the blandness of her tone, the question was obvious. "She is both, and a talented Guardian. She was also right that we were not well suited. I can't imagine that she would rescue a captured unicorn if she had been in thrall for ten years. Nor face down Drayton as you did. You have a warrior heart, Meg."

"That's good, I'm sure."

"You also are beautiful," he said softly. "Inside and out."

After a long, still moment, she tilted her head back, her gaze intent. "Will you kiss me? I want to get the taste of Drayton out of my mouth."

Lightly he touched the bruises forming on her cheeks, channeling more healing energy. "What did he do to you?"

She shrugged. "Shoved me on the bed, made threats, slapped me to teach me obedience, and forced his horrible kisses on me. He realized that I was virgin."

"That was perceptive of him." No wonder Drayton had come up with the idea of forcing Meg to sue for an annulment. Wordlessly Simon bent his lips to hers. His kiss was soft in deference to the physical and emotional battering she had endured. She gave a soft sigh of pleasure, her lips opening under his. Though he felt desire stirring, he kept his exploration of her mouth gentle. She was sweet and intoxicating as honey wine.

He hated knowing that Drayton had used and abused her even though it had stopped well short of rape. His kiss deepened and he caressed her back with both hands, wanting to eliminate any lingering taint left by the brute's touch.

His tongue found a rough spot inside her mouth. From the faint metallic taste of blood, he guessed that the abrasion was a result of Drayton's violence. He licked the area and sent healing until the roughness smoothed out.

Meg shivered with response and locked her arms around his neck. Her urgency transformed his concern, anger and tenderness into feverish pa.s.sion. He wanted to sink into her, become one, body and soul.

She responded with matching fervor, turning to straddle his lap. Their hips ground together, straining to connect despite the layers of fabric that separated them. He tugged up her voluminous skirts so he could caress her leg. His palm glided up over the silk of her stocking to the warm, bare flesh above.

Her moan vibrated through him, transmitted through their kiss. More than anything on earth, he wanted to increase her pleasure, intoxicate her until they came together in mutual madness. He slid his hand between them, probing gently until he found moist, exquisitely sensitive folds of flesh. At his intimate touch, she cried out and convulsed against him.

He was fumbling with his breeches, frantic to enter her, when he realized what he was doing. Fury and self-revulsion swept through him because he was seducing a woman who had suffered one a.s.sault this night. Not only was this despicable in its own right, but he was about to destroy her precious virginity.

His anger was too swift and deep to be subverted this time. Recognizing that Drayton's spell was beginning to rip through him, he shifted Meg to the opposite seat, as far from him as possible. Vast amounts of energy surged into his body, bringing agony along with the wrenching changes. As Meg gasped with surprise, he tried to retreat, but his expanding form rapidly filled the carriage's limited s.p.a.ce.

The haze and pain of transformation faded, leaving him panting with distress. His unicorn body was jammed across his seat and his legs bracketed Meg. He tried to move, but his neck was twisted awkwardly along the right side panel and his horn stabbed the quilted ceiling. Though his instinct was to run, he had enough wit left to realize that he daren't move for fear of accidentally injuring Meg, who was trapped within the circle of his solid equine body.

Worst of all, his splayed hind legs flagrantly revealed his rampant desire, and a unicorn was not a small creature. He stared at her helplessly, wishing he were anywhere in the world but here. At the same time, he wanted her more than ever, physical pa.s.sion compounded by the magical allure of her virgin purity.

She was exquisite, both object of desire and a chalice of grace.

Eyes huge but unflinching, Meg's gaze moved over him, lingering briefly as she noted his swollen male flesh. "You really must stop being so angry with yourself when you lose control. Your valet will weep bitter tears when he sees that you've destroyed your magnificent costume." She stroked his foam-streaked neck, calming energy radiating from her hand. It helped, a little.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" she asked.

He nodded, twisting his neck further.

"I will use the pointed back of an earring to p.r.i.c.k your shoulder, then my finger. That should provide enough mingling of blood to restore you."

He nodded again, hoping she could transform him back before he utterly disgraced himself. His whole body felt like one huge, quivering s.e.xual organ.

She unhooked her right earring and leaned forward to p.r.i.c.k the shoulder muscle. The quick sting caused a dark droplet to form on his shining white hide. He watched, entranced by her movements, wanting to lay his head against her but unable to move.

She stabbed the middle finger of her left hand. When blood appeared, she touched it to his. Nothing happened for what seemed like a long time, and he began to fear that the magic was gone-that the increasing physical intimacy between them had destroyed the innocence needed to counter Drayton's spell.

Frowning, she rubbed her finger against him, mixing the blood more thoroughly. Metamorphosis was immediate. The heat that had rushed in when his body enlarged now radiated outward in waves as bones and flesh crushed back into human form. The violence of the change pitched him from his seat and he ended half-collapsed across Meg's lap, panting, naked, and covered with sweat.

He was so drained he wasn't sure he could move, yet still he burned with desire. Ashamed, he buried his face against her unyieldingly corseted torso, knowing he should pull away, yet neither able nor willing to do so. "I'm so sorry, Meg," he whispered.

"Poor Simon," she murmured, her voice still honey sweet. "Your transformation is far worse than anything I suffered at Drayton's hands tonight."

Her gentle hands stroked over his bare back and arms, smoothing his jangled aura as if it were fur standing on end. He began to feel calmer, though he still dared not move because that would expose his arousal.

Her supple hand slid down his waist, then under him. Before he realized her intent, she clasped the rigid, pulsing length of his maleness. He gasped as ecstasy shot through him. "Meg . . ."

"I don't think this should take much," she murmured. "Though I've had no more experience with the mating habits of men than with those of unicorns."

She drew her hand upward, squeezing. It was enough. Groaning, he erupted in a violent release that was as shaming as it was rapturous. When his dizziness pa.s.sed, he found that his arms were clenched around her waist and his face was buried in her lap.

Feeling more beast than man, he let go of her and sat back on his heels, jammed between the seats as tightly as his unicorn form had filled the whole carriage. "I'm sorry, Meg. You . . . you shouldn't have had to deal with my brute male l.u.s.t."

"Why not?" She wiped her hand on a piece of his ruined velvet coat, then leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "You gave me great pleasure. I wanted to do the same for you. I am a simple country girl, Simon. It is natural for creatures to mate, and I have great difficulty understanding how something that feels so right can be wrong."

He sighed. "When I touch you, I have trouble remembering that, too. But in the calm that comes in the wake of desire, I once more feel that I am taking advantage of your youth and inexperience."

"I'm experienced enough to know that I prefer you to Drayton," she said tartly. "Or to any other man I' ve met. Isn't that enough?"

He wished he had more and better words. "What would have happened if I had taken your virginity? How would the transformation spell have been countered?"

"There are other virgins in London. Jean Macrae would come in a heartbeat if her help was needed." Meg's mouth quirked up. "Though I must admit that I don't want you looking at another female the way you look at me when you're a unicorn. It is rather wonderful to be adored."

He had to laugh. "You have a splendidly sensible way of dealing with absurdity."

"Thank you, I think." She glanced out the window as the carriage rumbled to a stop. "We're home again. Shall I go inside and get a cloak for you?"

"No need. There are carriage robes under your seat. If you move over here, I'l get one out." After she moved to his side of the carriage, he raised the padded seat and retrieved a woolen blanket. It was scratchy against his bare skin, but covered him well enough. "We'l simply march inside and leave the servants to their own conclusions."

Her laughter was husky and not at all innocent. "I hope word of our wickedness gets back to Drayton and he a.s.sumes the worst." She brushed a tender hand through his hair. "And I look forward to the day when we can truly come together."

So did he. Dear G.o.d, so did he.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

Meg welcomed the familiar tingle of the wards when they entered the house. She had come to appreciate the power and sophistication of Simon's protections. Falconer House was the safest place in London for a mage, and it was a relief to relax her personal shields.

To the footman who had admitted them, Simon said, "Please send a light supper for two to my study." He was as coolly dignified as if he wore a Roman toga rather than a barely adequate plaid blanket. She wondered what the ostlers would think when they cleaned the carriage and found his ruined clothing. They would probably a.s.sume she had attacked him like a lioness in heat, which wasn't far from the truth.

As she studied his chiseled, enigmatic profile, she realized that it was increasingly easy to identify man with unicorn and vice versa. Both had lean elegance, power, and heart-stopping beauty. If he had been broad and dark-haired like Duncan Macrae, would his unicorn form have reflected that? An interesting question. A dark, muscular unicorn might be equally impressive, but she doubted she would find one so attractive.

She was amazed that Simon could resist the fierce s.e.xual attraction that bound them. Perhaps she would have more self-discipline when she was a more experienced mage. Or-she swallowed hard when she noticed how the carriage robe exposed his powerful shoulders-perhaps not. It was impossible to imagine not wanting him. She was beginning to suspect that her origins were pure peasant, since her nature was more earthy than refined.

Simon turned to her. "Do you wish to discuss the information about your colleagues tonight, or in the morning when we are rested?"

Her fatigue vanished. "Now."

He smiled faintly. "I guessed as much, which is why I ordered refreshments. We missed the excellent supper at Sterling House. Let us change into more comfortable garments and meet in my study."

She nodded and headed up the stairs. It took time for her maid to remove the complicated evening costume and her hair would not be free of powder until it could be washed, but undoing the elaborate style, brushing out her hair, and donning a comfortable house robe were a great relief.

Simon was already in his study, wearing a loose, blue velvet banyan. The supper he had ordered was on a tray to one side of the room, but for now, he handed her a gla.s.s of watered brandy. He must have used magic to determine exactly the right proportion of ingredients because the brandy glowed through her, warm but not burning.

He sipped his own drink, which was considerably darker, then set it aside so he could unroll a large scroll on the desk. "Here's a map of London and the area around it." He set weights on the corners and edges. "Can you show me where Drayton holds the others in thrall?"

"I'm not sure." Eyes narrowed, she bent over the map, tracing the course of the Thames, then the villages that lay outside of London proper. "I don't know any of these places. I know nothing of the city but this neighborhood and the park."

"You don't have to know the city. Trying closing your eyes and using power to locate your lost souls."

Someday she would remember to use magic without having to be reminded. She closed her eyes and held her open hand over the map while she thought back to the energy threads she had discovered deep in Drayton's mind. Without conscious volition, her hand moved to her left and came to rest on the map, her palm glowing with heat. "Here. Four of the five are here." She opened her eyes and saw that her hand touched an area west of London, a little beyond Richmond. "In a manor house outside this village."

Simon studied the spot. "Brentford Abbey?"

"Yes! How did you know that?"

"Because Brentford Abbey is the country house where Drayton is holding his great technology forum. He leased the estate several years ago to have a country retreat that is near enough to London for him to be close to the court and government." Simon frowned. "I haven't investigated the place, but it was once an abbey and it is sited on the intersection of three ley lines. Centuries of prayer and ritual have added great power to the site."

"Wouldn't that have dissipated by now? It's been over two centuries since Henry dissolved the abbeys."

He glanced at her. "You remember that much history? Or is that something you read recently?"

She tried to remember where knowledge of Henry VIII had come from. "I haven't read anything about the Tudor period since you rescued me, so I must have known it already."

"More evidence that you were a well-educated child when Drayton abducted you." His gaze returned to the map. "Some spiritual energy might have faded, but much remains, and ley lines are eternal. The abbey is a perfect place for a renegade mage."

She caught her breath. "Do you suppose he wants to combine the power of the abbey with what he steals from his slaves so he can place the men who come to his forum into thrall?"

"I'm sure he wants to use them in some way, but I don't think he could put them into thrall as he did you. These men will be older than you were, and few if any will have much magical power. Even if he is able to capture their minds in some way, it would be very conspicuous to turn a hundred or more prominent men into simpletons." He smiled faintly. "People would notice."

"What if he only wants to enthrall a few of the most powerful?"

"It's possible that he has developed spells that will put his guests into his power in a way short of the enslavement you suffered," Simon said thoughtfully. "I'l have to think about how that might be done, and how it could be countered. For now, what can you tell me about the four captives he's holding at Brentford Abbey?"

"Two males, two females. I think all are younger than I." Meg's brow furrowed as she concentrated on the phantom essence of what Simon had called "lost souls." "I don't know if any are Guardians-one has an energy unlike any I've sensed before. I would say that none are top-cla.s.s mages like you or Lady Bethany, but taken together, they command a formidable amount of power."

Simon swore under his breath. "And their power is always at Drayton's disposal. No wonder he can accomplish so much. You said there is a fifth captive. If not at Brentford Abbey, where?"

Meg closed her eyes again and returned to the moment when she had discovered the threads. Four led one way. Now she traced the fifth. "It is a woman. A girl, actually, she's quite young, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. And . . . and she's very close." Instead of using her whole hand, Meg pointed with a single finger as she traced the gossamer connection. "Here."

Simon whistled under his breath. "Drayton House, which is only a few streets away. Can you tell me more about her?"

Meg reached the end of the thread and was startled by what she found. "The girl has a great deal of power. In my inner vision, she glows like a bonfire. I think she is only newly enthralled, and her power might not be fully accessible to Drayton. But it's just a matter of time until he can take it all, as he did with me."