 
### Tatiana Ashurst has a secret...

...one that she cannot afford to be known to Georgian English society. But Kit Vallentyn discovers her hidden ability to wield infinitely powerful magic... and saves her from inadvertently revealing it to everyone. Tatiana knows it is impossible for her to marry him. But how can she help herself from becoming fascinated by this handsome man, who seems to extend a spell over her more powerful than any she can conjure?

Kit is out for a wife. His instinct, however, is to go through the mere motions of searching, just to please his ambitious father who wants a big dowry from the marriage. But the one woman who he can't get out of his mind is the twin sister of the one his father wants him to marry—the one who is plain, penniless, ineligible... and enchanting in more ways than one.

For Kit and Tatiana to weather the storm of their desires, they have to peel away the layers of all of their secrets, to discover the simple truth of their love.

### What Others Have Said About Storm on the Horizon

[Meredith Bond] "knows how to write romance, and write it well! This book has everything I love in a good romance book: strong, intelligent heroines; sexy and intriguing male leads, and an interesting and unique storyline (along with some sexy moments--ooh-la-la!). I couldn't put this book down, and it stayed with me for days." – _ReaderUSA from Amazon_

"This is one sweet, enjoyable, romantic read. I read Magic in the Storm first, and I must admit that reading this novella makes me want to read Magic again! Both are such great reads; I had trouble putting them down!" – _Tamara Ward, author_

"Although a short story this will send the reader on an emotional journey with a hope of a perfect outcome." – _lindsayandjaneviewsandreviews.com_

Join Meredith's newsletter email list and get a free copy of either The Merry Marquis, the first book in her Merry Men Quartet OR Air: Merlin's Chalice, the first book in the Children of Avalon romantic fantasy series.

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# Storm on the Horizon

### Meredith Bond

Copyright, February, 2013, Meredith Bond.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means—graphic, electronic or mechanical—without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

Published by Anessa Books, www.anessabooks.com

ISBN-13: 978-0-9911590-3-1

# Acknowledgements

# Chapter One

March, 1780

The whisper of silk was accompanied the quiet tapping of a slipper in the hall outside of Tatiana Ashurst's bedroom. At the creak of a floorboard, all sounds stopped.

Tatiana rushed to the hall to see her twin sister paused at the top of the stairs of their grandmother's London home. "Oh good, you're dressed," she said, pushing aside the feeling of dread that was slowly rising up from the floor.

Her sister half-turned and looked back. Her face was covered with guilt; her hand gripped the balustrade. "Uh. Yes. I'm er... going downstairs, or, um... out. Yes, I'm going out. I'll be back." Her sister turned to face the stairs once again, preparing to descend.

Tatiana couldn't allow that. She couldn't allow her sister to escape, to run away. Not this time. She wasn't close enough to reach out and grab her, though. She hesitated for only the briefest moment before throwing her hand out. Magic shot from her fingertips and froze her sister in place. "No. You are not."

She rushed up and put a restraining hand on her sister's arm before unfreezing her with a thought. "Trina, it will be all right. We're going to do this together. Grandmama will be there and we'll get through this—together."

"I can't, Tatiana. I can't." Her sister dropped her head into hands that shook, absolutely shook, with nerves.

Gently, Tatiana guided Trina back to her room. "Of course you can." Oh, how she hated being the enforcer here! But she had no choice. "I have complete confidence in you. Grandmama does as well. And you know that Mama and Papa wouldn't have sent us if they didn't think you could do this as well."

Trina shook her head. "No. They sent us because they believe this is the only way to get me married."

"And don't you want to marry?" Tatiana asked her sister, knowing exactly what her answer would be. They'd only discussed and dissected the issue thoroughly over the past three years.

"You know I do, but..." Trina paused, looking miserable. Her brown eyes were dull with reluctance and dismay. It was all Tatiana could do to keep herself from folding her sister into her arms. She wanted to so badly, but if she did Trina would start to cry. Then her eyes would turn red and puffy, and she'd be in no state to go anywhere. She couldn't do that to her beloved sister, so she just gave her hand a comforting squeeze as they walked back to Trina's room.

She really did hate being in collusion with their parents against Trina. It had always been the two of them against everyone else. They'd stood together from the time they could both stand at all. But this time... this time, their parents were right. Tatiana hated that almost as much as she hated forcing her shy, unwilling sister to make her curtsey to society and place herself in the market for a husband.

Trina started to shake her head, but Tatiana cut her off as she opened her mouth to protest. "There is no other way. They're right, you can do this and you will. You're stronger than this, Trina."

"No. I'm not. I'm terrified. No one will even look at me at the ball. They never do." The tears were coming back. Tatiana could feel the heat of her sister's fear radiating off of her.

She had to do something. Something big. Something dramatic. And something fast. Their grandmother would call for them any moment. She pulled her sister to the standing mirror in the corner of her room. Firmly placing her in front of it, she said, "Look, Trina. Look at this gorgeous dress! How can you say no one will look at you?"

Trina fluffed out the pale pink, heavy silk overdress without enthusiasm. "Well, at least I am stylish. I'm glad Grandmama allowed me the most recent fashion. I like this à l'Anglaise, without panniers. I don't think I could have stood having a dress that extended further out than my arms."

Tatiana laughed. "You are not only dressed in the first stare, you look beautiful!"

That comment made Trina's face begin to crumple once again. "No. That I am not."

"Oh yes, you are," Tatiana said. And that is when she had the idea! The brilliance of her inspiration made her almost laugh out aloud in delight, but she controlled herself. Instead, she narrowed her eyes a little and focused herself inward. She gathered her magical power into her core and allowed a slow smile to spread across her face.

In her mind's eye, she saw her sister's dull, brown hair shine with vibrancy like her own. Trina's eyes lost their brown coloring and instead glowed a brilliant green. Tatiana made her lips and cheeks ever so slightly plump, and then filled out her bust-line to give her a more womanly figure.

"Oh!" her sister gasped. She stared into the mirror, stunned at the woman she saw.

Tatiana then focused her attention on herself. As they were now they looked more like twins than they usually did. But that wouldn't do. She needed Trina to stand out, so Tatiana dulled her own rich, dark brown hair, and faded her sparkling black eyes to a muddy brown. She thinned her face and lips, and made herself look nearly as angular as a scarecrow. Her perfectly-fitted, vibrant, blue silk dress now hung limply on her frame.

"Oh, no! Tatiana, what are you doing?" Trina exclaimed, horrified.

"Much better." Tatiana looked in the mirror and nodded approvingly.

"No! Tatiana, really!"

"Yes, really! It is important that you look your best," Tatiana said, admiring her handiwork. "And just as important that I don't. This way, no one will look twice at me but focus all of their attention on you. Just as they should."

"But your beauty..." Trina objected.

"Is inside, just as yours always is. Only now yours is showing outwardly for all of those superficial men to see—and mine is hidden away." Tatiana nodded again. "This is the way it should be."

Trina looked more closely at herself in the mirror. A small smile made her lips tremble and tears shone in her eyes yet again. "You are too good to me," she whispered.

"No. I love you. But if you cry, I will be extremely annoyed. I don't want to overlay even more magic on you to keep everyone from seeing red, puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks."

A giggle burst out of Trina and she blinked away the tears. "No. I won't do that to you. I promise." She sighed and turned herself from side to side to admire her new splendor in the mahogany-gilt frame. "It is a shame, though."

"What, that you have to marry? I'm sure you'll find a wonderful man, Trina. You've got the entire season to do so."

"Yes. But you won't be here the entire season. And that's not what I am referring to. It's a shame that you won't get to choose your own husband."

# Chapter Two

Tatiana's heart constricted at that thought. It was not only a shame, it was downright painful—and terrifying. She took a deep breath. "Yes, well. I have to pay for this gift that was given to me."

"You pay for it every single day," Trina agreed. "You pay for it in all the training you have undergone, and now you'll have to pay for it by marrying only God-knows who."

"Whosoever Mama chooses." Tatiana looked down at the floor, so that Trina couldn't see the tears burning in her own eyes. She hated that she would have no choice in whom she married. But again, her parents were right. Her husband would hold too important a role to be chosen lightly. She honestly didn't envy her parents the job of finding just the right man for the position.

Tatiana took a deep breath. She was the direct descendent of Morgan le Fey, she reminded herself. She had the strength and the power to do anything she set her mind to—including marrying a man of her parents choosing. She lifted her chin and looked directly at her sister. "I will do my duty, and I do it willingly."

"You've always taken your position seriously. You've always done just what you should..." Trina's voice trailed off as if she was about to say more.

Tatiana nodded hesitantly, not sure what her sister implied.

Trina flashed a sly smile. "So, why don't you put your looks back the way they should be and have some fun? You're only here for two weeks. What harm could come of it?"

For the briefest of moments, Tatiana toyed with the idea. She could have so much fun if she did as her sister suggested. She could dance and flirt with the men they met. She could pretend that she didn't have a great destiny awaiting her; she didn't have a duty to her people. That she wasn't the most powerful Vallen in Great Britain, aside from her mother, with the ability to do nearly anything she could imagine.

She could, for just two weeks, imagine that she was an ordinary girl living an ordinary life.

Just the momentary thought was so powerful, so enticing Tatiana had to step back and collect herself. She had to remind herself just who she was and what she had always known would be her life—as high priestess of a magical people it was to her that they would turn for guidance. It was to her that they would come for help. Her destiny, to give birth to the Seventh, would renew the powers of her people that had grown weaker with each succeeding generation. The seventh child of the seventh child in the seventh generation would be the most powerful Vallen in decades, and it was Tatiana's duty to bear this child.

It was for that reason, and that reason alone, that she must leave it up to her parents to choose her husband. He who would be the child's father. No, she was not and would never be an ordinary girl.

Tatiana opened her mouth to reply, but Trina cut her off. "You deserve to have fun, too! Why can't you forget your destiny—just for one night? Throw caution to the wind, dance with any and every available gentleman—just for one glorious night?"

The thought appealed to her. It was downright tempting. But she couldn't. Her mother had ingrained into her the importance of her position, her duty and her heritage. It was for this that she had given up so much of her childhood. Hours that Trina had spent playing, reading and learning to play the pianoforte, Tatiana had spent studying Vallen history, botany, herbs, potion making and everything else she would need to know as high priestess. This was a part of her. She couldn't just set it aside, no matter how badly she wanted to do so—even for just one night.

But she also didn't want to make her sister feel bad, so she smiled and even gave a little laugh. "I promise to do my best."

"Good!"

"But I won't put my looks back because honestly, I don't want to detract from your chances at finding the perfect man."

"But..."

"No. That is the condition. I will dance with anyone and everyone who asks me, but you, my sweet sister, will be the gorgeous one tonight."

Trina sighed but nodded her acceptance of Tatiana's conditions. She took another look at herself in the mirror. The slight smile grew on her face. "I am quite pretty, aren't I?" Without her smile slipping even the smallest bit, she added, "Although, we won't know if the men who ask me to dance aren't merely interested in my money. Grandmama has not let it be known just how much Papa is giving me for my marriage portion."

"We'll jump that hurdle when we get to it," Tatiana said, not admitting her certainty that Trina would be sought after precisely for her money. If only she could have convinced their grandmother to keep that little tidbit of information to herself. But no, Lady Ashurst wouldn't hear of it. It was frustrating beyond belief.

Before those grim thoughts could get much further, a knock sounded at the door. Even as it opened, Tatiana knew it was their grandmother. The waft of strong perfume always preceded the older lady wherever she went.

"Girls? Are you ready to go?" their grandmother asked, popping her highly coiffed head around the door.

"Yes, Grandmama," Tatiana said, dutifully.

Her grandmother came further into the room. "Tatiana, what have you done to yourself? And Trina, my, my, don't you look beautiful?"

Trina giggled. "It's all Tatiana's doing, Grandmama. She changed both of us ever so subtly. Now, I am pretty... and she is less so."

"I see." Lady Ashurst turned toward her youngest grandchild. "And why have you done this, Tatiana?"

"So that Trina gets all the attention and can find the husband she is looking for," Tatiana said. "Honestly, Grandmama, I don't need to worry about finding a husband, but Trina--"

"Does," her sister finished for her.

Their grandmother smiled in approval and inclined her head as much as her very tall hairstyle would allow. "You are a very good sister, Tatiana. It is a generous and proper thing that you have done," she said smoothing down the skirt of her own thick, brocade silk dress. I believe, however, that you do not account for the avarice of the male population. "

"Are you certain I cannot talk you out of disclosing that information, ma'am?" Tatiana asked.

Her grandmother shook her head. "It is already out there, my dear. There is no calling it back."

"But how will we know if a gentleman is truly interested in Trina, or just her money?"

Lady Ashurst shrugged. "You won't."

"But..."

"Now, let us be off. We are already much too late."

"That one," Lord Durrington nodded his head in the direction of a pretty girl with bobbing golden ringlets. "She looks Vallen."

Even as they watched, the girl tripped over the hem of her dress. Her mother jerked her up with a fierce tug on her arm and saved her from flying to the floor.

"Maybe not," Kit replied.

"No, maybe not," his father agreed, resignation filling his voice. "How about the redhead? Redheads are mostly Vallen, aren't they?"

"I don't know." Kit's eyes sought out the girl to whom his father referred. He found her and winced. She was indeed a redhead—vibrantly so, with brilliant orange hair and a laugh so loud it carried clear across the ballroom.

"She could definitely be Vallen," Lord Durrington said. "Why don't you--"

"No. Too loud," Kit objected before his father could even complete his sentence.

"Well, you've got to go after some of them, Kit. You can't just reject every single one out of hand." His father's voice was getting testy.

Kit sighed. He'd have to do something to appease Lord Durrington soon or he'd never hear the end of it. And it was why he was here after all, in London at a ball, rather than at home on his estate, looking after the spring planting.

His father's constant letters, combined with his mother's tears, had forced him from his beloved estate. He'd finally given in and agreed to come and find someone to court, possibly marry.

His family's dreams for him were beyond anything that Kit wanted, but it seemed that really didn't matter in the larger scheme of things. It was what he was expected to do.

For the past six months, both his parents and grandfather had been incessantly reminding him of his duty as the future Viscount Vallentyn.

So he'd come to London and this ball, expressly to find a wife among the new debutants. His father was already becoming impatient and they'd only been here an hour. He wanted Kit to marry and marry well.

Pressure on both of them from Kit's grandfather didn't help things either. The old Lord Vallentyn wouldn't live forever. Although he had an heir in his own son, he was determined to ensure the continuation of the line through Kit. And the wife had to be Vallen the old gentleman had reminded them, as if they hadn't already been aware of the necessity.

But how could one tell if a girl was Vallen or not? It was nearly impossible. One couldn't just announce it to the world. Their people had lived hidden amongst the ordinary folk of Great Britain for centuries now—ever since King Arthur's time-- if those childhood stories were true.

"Charisma," Kit's grandfather had said when the question had been posed to him originally. "Either that or talent. Some sort of talent. Go to those..." he waved his hand aimlessly about, "... salons. See who is singing. Who is painting. Who is doing something bold and exciting. That is where you'll find the Vallen."

His father hated attending "those salons", so instead they'd come to the first official ball of the season to see the debutants. Surely, among the finest of the _ton_ they could find some appropriate girls.

"What about her?" Lord Durrington nodded toward a new girl. She had not been there for long and already surrounded by a swarm of young bucks.

# Chapter Three

"I can't even see her." All he could see was a mass of multi-colored silk tailcoats--the colors the popinjays were wearing now bordered on blinding. Brilliant greens warred with pale blues, clashing severely with deep reds. What were these fellows thinking, Kit wondered, looking down at his own simple deep blue silk coat and his matching knee britches. He had condescended to the lace at his cuffs, but had kept that to a minimum.

"Precisely!" his father said. "There's got to be a real beauty with definite charisma to attract a crowd like that. She must be the daughter of someone important, as well."

Kit scowled. "Well, which do you want—someone important or someone Vallen?"

"Both."

Kit turned toward his father, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, don't give me that look," his father said. "If a girl's father is an earl or marquess, he's most likely someone in Parliament. Even more importantly, he is wealthy. If he is all of those things, there's a good chance that he's a Vallen as well. You need to marry up, Christopher. You need a girl from a wealthy, important family."

"It's not good enough that you'll be a viscount when Grandfather dies? Not enough that _you_ are already somebody in Parliament?"

His father scowled at that. "I'm not nearly as important as you could be if you marry well. And your grandfather isn't ever going to die. At least not before me. I've got to see you well married. I know you—you'll never do it on your own. You would run back to Vallentyn Abbey faster than a fox in hunting season."

"I've got work I could be doing there. It's planting--"

"Do _not_ start that again! I don't give a damn about planting season, crops or any of that nonsense. You will marry and marry well before I die."

It was precisely that attitude that grated against Kit's nerves. And it made it imperative that he at least look for someone whose father had the needed political clout.

"You're not going to die any time soon. I've got plenty of time," Kit argued. "And if you cared even the least bit about our estate, we wouldn't--"

"You need time to establish yourself with your in-laws, so that when you inherit the title you'll start out in a good position," his father said, interrupting the argument he had been trying to make to his father for years. The man simply would not listen. He didn't care about their estate, about farming, about being a lord or magistrate unless it got him his seat in Parliament.

But it did matter to Kit. He cared about the people, the land and Vallentyn itself. It was what he longed to get back to, if only his father would let him. Instead, he must be here looking for a wife in the ridiculous, vacuous ballrooms of London.

Kit sighed. He'd given up trying to convince his father that he was not at all interested in the influential benefits of Parliament. For now, it was easier to just go along than to bang his head against the stone wall of his father's ambition.

"Look at that one there," his father gestured to the last girl. She was still surrounded, although they could see a glimpse of her between the men that hovered about. "She's probably the daughter of some marquess or even a duke. She's pretty. Go and use your magic to charm her. You can easily make her forget about all of the other suitors. You'll be married by the end of the season."

"And what if she's a harridan? What if she's...?"

"Does it really matter? All you need to do is marry her, bed her once and be done with it. You don't even need to speak with the chit except every now and again to get on good terms with her father. Look at her! I don't know that I've ever seen anyone surrounded by so many idiots all at once. She must be using magic, a siren call to attract them all."

"Well, if that's the case, then I'm certainly not interested. You know my position on Vallen using their powers--"

"To get what they want? Yes. It is completely ridiculous. You have these powers for a reason, Christopher. There's nothing wrong with using them."

"We don't have them in order to create an unfair advantage over those who don't," Kit argued.

"Well, she clearly does have power and isn't afraid to use it for what she wants, so go use yours with her." He nodded his head again toward the young woman they could barely see.

Tatiana could not get beyond the behavior of the men surrounding her sister. At first they had been polite, bowing and scraping to both of them. But now there were too many clambering around Trina. Tatiana was rudely shoved out of the way—one imbecile even going so far as to step on her toes. They looked like they hadn't seen a pretty girl in years and were starving for good looks.

Naturally, Tatiana had hoped this would happen. _This was a good thing_ , she reminded herself yet again. This is what she had wanted. _Wasn't it?_

A man backed up, nearly stepping on her. "Beg your pardon," he said, giving her a quick once over. He narrowed his eyes at her, "Are you...?"

Tatiana drew herself up. "Miss Tatiana Ashurst," she replied, before he could finish.

His eyebrows drew together like he was thinking very hard about this. "Related to the beauty?"

"Her twin sister."

"Younger?" he asked.

Tatiana had barely given a nod of acknowledgment, when he turned his back on her and moved back toward the crowd surrounding Trina.

Fury burned its way into the pit of Tatiana's stomach. She looked up and contemplated the ceiling. Why were they not outside so she could teach this dolt a lesson and call down a bolt of lightning?

"You're the beauty's sister?" another man asked, pulling her attention back.

Tatiana nodded hesitantly.

"Lord Marchness." He gave her a slight bow.

Tatiana curtseyed properly, her anger beginning to dissipate. Finally, a gentleman!

"Could you introduce me?" he asked, his eyes sliding over to Trina and the crowd around her.

Tatiana could hear the anger inside of her blowing into a storm. Quickly, she tamped it down before the wind and lightning became a reality and revealed her abilities for all to see. For a second, the vision of wigs flying and a ballroom full of people buffeted by a gale flashed across her mind's eye.

She shoved the vision aside and instead imagined the man before her as a toad. Why had she never developed that power? She knew it was possible. Power over fire and the weather was all well and good, but she needed some way to pinpoint her magic in order to smite one imbecile at a time. Perhaps she could set him on fire—just a little blaze, maybe on his coat tails.

"Could you?" he asked again. "Would you?"

"No, I will not." She turned her back on him, took a step closer to her grandmother and gave the man the cut direct.

Proud of herself for controlling her anger and doing the right thing, she allowed herself the imagined pleasure of the screams of shock and horror that would, if they had been outside, be surrounding her in a symphony of revenge. It took so little to shock all the ordinary people surrounding her.

But no, bringing the wind inside had not been a good idea—she could admit that now. The tantrum she'd had the year before at her older sister's engagement party had been paid for dearly with a week's confinement in her room.

She'd learned her lesson and would never do that again... a torrential downpour, on the other hand... She would become as soaked as everyone else, but she didn't really mind. These people deserved... ooh, she wanted to see fear in their eyes, terror on their faces. These puny-minded men would never, could never understand how such a thing could possibly happen.

How dare they treat her this way? Did they not realize she was an extremely powerful Vallen—probably one of the most powerful in the country? In the world? Did they not know who she would be? She was descended from the great Morgan Le Fey, sister to the terrifying Nimuë who alone removed the Isle of Avalon from the world.

"No really, Miss, bad form." Tatiana's thoughts were broken into by a male voice—and a lovely scent of musk and something else... ink?

Tatiana blinked. Not only had she turned back toward the flock of men around her sister, but she had also raised one arm with a vengeful finger pointed directly at Lord Marchness. Sparks of blue energy danced around the tip of her finger.

The man, who'd gently spoken to her, took her hand and soothed the sparks away. It felt as if a warm blanket had been gently laid over her magic, effectively both hiding and stopping it before she could release it toward her intended victims.

Tatiana swallowed as the most handsome man she had yet seen led her hand to his lips, bowing over it, as if they'd just been introduced. His dark blue coat set off to perfection the pale blue eyes set deeply under golden eyebrows. A small smile placed a dimple just under sharp cheekbones. The temperature all around her had gone up about five degrees, but he didn't seem to notice.

The kiss he placed on the back of her hand, sharper than any magic, burned through her glove and sent a wave of heat straight from her hand, up her arm and down to her toes. "I know you wouldn't do anything inappropriate in a public setting such as this," he said, his smile growing.

Tatiana cleared her throat, inhaled his strongly masculine scent and found her voice again. "No. No, of course not." She made sure the heat all around them completely dissipated. Could she be any more ashamed of herself? Not only had she been angry that she was being treated in the exact way she had said she wanted to be treated, but she'd been caught when she'd been about to use magic against an innocent—albeit extremely rude—man.

Tatiana shrank down slightly. So much for her wonderful self-control. Thank goodness her mother hadn't been here to see this. She would have been confined to her room for a week, just like the last time.

The man's eyes slid to the gentlemen surrounding her sister. "Even if they deserved it," he added.

"They do! You do not know how rude and, and..." She was just going to bury herself further if she continued. She had been wrong. Wrong from the start. Tatiana should do nothing, say nothing. For once she would do the smart thing and keep her thoughts, and magic, to herself.

"I can't imagine how anyone could be rude to you," the gentleman said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Some people are simply stupid. Single-minded. Clearly these fellows have gotten it into their minds that they must present themselves to... who is that, your sister? They will not rest until they have been out on the floor with her and proved themselves better than all the others clamoring for her attention. Please, do not take it personally. It's more a matter of besting each other than anything else."

His voice played like silk over Tatiana's skin. She could feel his words glide over her. She nearly sighed with the luscious feeling. "Are you using magic to seduce me, sir?"

# Chapter Four

The man looked truly stricken, as if she had just slapped him. "I beg your pardon. I was not doing so intentionally."

Immediately, Tatiana regretted her words. He was being kind and generous and she had said something hurtful.

He moved a step away from her.

What was it? Why would he be angry if she knew he used magic? She'd meant for her words to be light and teasing. Tatiana was thoroughly confused and annoyed with herself. She took another small step closer to him.

"No. It is fine. I mean, I don't know if you were or not, it is just that you, you..." She didn't know how to politely describe how good he made her feel, and felt completely unsure of what might be appropriate in this sort of situation. He was a stranger to her and yet made her feel so good, so happy. Was that not magic? Could it have been something else?

Now she began to question her own abilities. No, she understood magic. She knew what it felt like. He may not have meant to use his power to charm her, but she knew his voice had been laden with it. Could he not know his own power?

The man cocked his head, waiting for her to finish her sentence.

Tatiana swallowed hard. Putting all caution aside, she went for the direct approach. "You make me feel good. Happy. And you took away my anger, which was about to make me do something very inappropriate. Thank you," she finished, hoping she didn't sound weak.

The smile returned to the gentleman's face. "I'm glad you're feeling better. And I do apologize for those oafs."

Tatiana gave a shrug and let her previous anger fizzle out. "It's all right. Trina deserves it. Honestly, I'm happy she's getting so much attention."

"Trina? Is that your sister?"

"Yes. Ekaterina Ashurst. Would you like me to introduce you?" Tatiana was shocked by the words coming from her own mouth. What was with her this evening? She didn't want to introduce this man to Trina. She wanted him all for herself. Not that she could do anything more than have one pleasant evening in his company, a cruel voice in the back of her mind whispered.

"No. Thank you," he said with a smile that would warm any young woman on the coldest of days. "It was very kind of you to offer, but I'm very happy here speaking with you."

It was exactly the right thing to say—and sparked its own little fire within Tatiana.

"But what am I doing? I beg your pardon! We have not been properly introduced," he said, with sudden consternation. He looked about for a moment. "Is that your chaperone?" he said, indicating her grandmother just behind her.

"My grandmother," Tatiana nodded.

The gentleman took a few steps over to Lady Ashurst and bowed. "I beg your pardon, madam. May I be so bold as to introduce myself?"

He waited a moment for her nod of approval and then continued. "I am Christopher Vallentyn. May I beg the honor of an introduction to your granddaughter?"

His name echoed in Tatiana's mind. Vallentyn? She couldn't believe someone would be so bold as to take on such a name. Her grandmother must have had heard of his family, though, since she didn't even blink at his odd name. In fact, she seemed quite pleased with his attention.

Tatiana watched with a little dismay as her grandmother turned toward the throng of gentlemen surrounding Trina, but Mr. Vallentyn stopped her.

"I meant your _other_ granddaughter." He nodded toward Tatiana.

Relief and happiness surged within her, but she saw that her grandmother was not at all pleased. "I'm certain you would much rather be introduced to the elder of my granddaughters," she said, turning once again toward Trina.

"Er, no ma'am, thank you. She seems to be rather inundated just at the moment," Mr. Vallentyn said.

Her grandmother nodded in agreement but didn't look like she was going to give up easily. "It is true. In that case, perhaps you'll be content to wait a little while? Or to come on Thursday when we will be "at home" to visitors?"

"Thank you, that is very kind." He bowed to Lady Ashurst but as his eyes slid once again toward Tatiana, a warm thrill cascaded down her spine. "Surely you wouldn't mind, then, introducing me to your younger granddaughter?" he asked once more.

Tatiana's grandmother pursed her lips into a moue of displeasure, but she seemed to be caught by good manners. Tatiana could see the resignation in her eyes as she turned toward her. "Of course. Mr. Vallentyn, Miss Tatiana Ashurst."

Mr. Vallentyn bowed over Tatiana's hand as she curtseyed. This time he didn't kiss it but instead kept his pale-blue, smiling gaze steady on her own. "It is an honor to meet you, Miss Tatiana."

"And you, sir," Tatiana said, doing her best to keep her voice neutral and polite for her grandmother's sake—when instead she was tugged by the urge to titter and giggle like an idiot. Never in her life had she felt this way. How ridiculous!

One small part of her heart rejoiced at having met such a charming man. Another part wept. She completely understood why her grandmother had been so reluctant to introduce her to Mr. Vallentyn—she was here to support Trina in her coming out, not to meet men herself. On the other hand, there couldn't be anything too wrong with a brief flirtation, could there? It was just this one night and then she would go back to being the good, dutiful daughter and supportive sister, she silently promised herself, and her grandmother. She would.

She was well aware that she could never have anything more than this extremely short time with him. And she _had_ promised her sister that tonight she would dance and have as much fun as she possibly could. Opportunity smiled at her so she gave her chin a lift and smiled right back.

Tatiana lost track of Trina after that. She was too busy being completely charmed by Mr. Vallentyn. After he had escorted her in to the light dinner provided and then danced a second dance with her, he turned to her saying, "I must apologize, Miss Tatiana. If I continue to stay here, I know I will do something frightful like ask you to dance a third time or continue to hang about in a most inappropriate manner. Do say that you'll excuse me for the evening... and that you'll meet me tomorrow. No, I beg your pardon, the day after tomorrow—in the park?"

Sad as she was to see him go, she understood his reasoning. He truly was a proper gentleman. "I would be most happy to meet you in the park, Mr. Vallentyn. Shall we say at one before the throng of society descends?"

"Excellent idea. I'll see you there on Tuesday, at the main gate, at one." He bowed and kissed her hand once again before he turned and joined a man who was frowning hard at Tatiana.

Tatiana shrugged and turned back to her sister. Trina accepted a glass of lemonade from one of her many admirers, while the next one hovered about waiting his turn to dance with her. Well, there was no doubt the night could be called a success.

She had two weeks, Tatiana reminded herself. Two weeks to spend with the charming Mr. Vallentyn.

She did her best to make her sigh as silent as possible.

"Christopher, remember what we spoke of earlier this evening," Lord Durrington said in a warning tone as Kit approached him.

He took his father's arm and led him out of the ballroom. "I remember. I remember what you said earlier this evening, and yesterday evening, and the week before."

"Don't be rude," his father snapped. "It doesn't become you."

Kit found it surprisingly easy to ignore his father's anger. "What do you say to spending the rest of the evening at Brooke's? I'm feeling lucky tonight, and I believe Browlington just got paid his quarterly allowance."

"That boy has entirely too much money," his father agreed reluctantly, as they headed out the door.

# Chapter Five

Kit felt like he was being watched. He looked around at the busts surrounding him and stifled an involuntary shudder. He hated his father's study.

Lining the walls were the busts of the most influential politicians of the past fifty years. They made him nervous, as if he were being watched, judged and found seriously wanting. It was just a silly fear from his childhood; the busts were marble and couldn't do or think anything. But that didn't stop his imagination from running rampant.

It made trying to get work done nearly impossible. He forced his attention back to his correspondence. If he couldn't be at his family's estate himself, he would have to direct operations from afar. He ground his teeth together and thought of all the things he should be doing. Who had ever decided that March was the perfect time to begin the social season? Certainly not a farmer, nor anyone who cared about his estate.

Kit had planting to prepare for, animals to set to stud and innumerable other tasks that would not wait for him to find a wife he didn't want.

"Kit?" His sister popped her head through the door. "Oh good, you're not busy."

How she came to that determination when he sat at his father's desk, pen in hand, paper in front of him and an ink pot open at his elbow was beyond him. He'd always suspected she only saw what she wanted, regardless of reality.

"Hello, Elizabeth," he said, hiding his sigh of resignation.

She came in and lowered herself into one of the chairs that faced the desk.

"Shouldn't you be at Cherington for your lying-in?" Kit asked, watching his very pregnant sister maneuver herself.

"Yes. In fact, that is why I came by, to say good-bye. I'm off tomorrow morning."

"Is Cherington going with you?"

"He's already there to oversee some estate business," she said, waving her hand with a negligent air that set Kit's heart racing with anger.

"I should be doing the same thing." He tried not to growl. "I can't believe I let our parents talk me into this inane..."

"It is _not_ stupid! And it's your own damn fault for waiting so long to find a girl to marry. If you'd just done so a few years ago like they'd wanted..."

"I was busy trying to get our estate profitable!"

"But that's what you've been saying for years."

Kit felt his jaw clench in his frustration. "It takes many years to start this process and that's all that I've managed to do—start it."

"Well, that's a shame," she said, not seeming to care at all. "So tell me, did you meet any nice young girls at the ball the other night? Anyone with a father who can sponsor you in Parliament?"

Kit let his head fall back against his chair. Why did he try? Why did he even try to get it across to anyone in his family that he didn't care about marriage? Didn't care about his seat in Parliament—not that he had one to take yet, but he would some day, as everyone in his family kept reminding him.

Then his mind wandered to the very interesting Miss Tatiana. He let his gaze slip to the clock on the mantle above the fireplace--nearly twelve-thirty. He would need to leave soon for his meeting with her.

Damn! He'd hoped to get some work done before that.

"Oh, ho! So you did meet someone!" His sister gave a laugh. She had the ability to read minds—especially his. All of his life, she had known exactly what he was thinking. It had been annoying when he was a child and downright awkward when he went through puberty and came home from school. One never wanted one's older sister to know what thoughts ran through a boy's mind at such an age.

"Yes, and I need to be off soon..."

"If you are meeting that young lady you encountered the other night, you can stop wasting your time right now," his father said, bending down to give his daughter a peck on the cheek.

Kit hadn't even noticed Lord Durrington come into the room.

"Hello, sir," she said as he gave her cheek a pat.

"I've learned a few things about her—as well as the other one to whom I told you to introduce yourself," his father said, settling himself in the other chair in front of the desk. "You should have listened to me and introduced yourself to the popular girl. There were so many men around her for a reason." His father paused, waiting for Kit to ask the requisite question.

Deliberately, Kit stayed silent.

Lord Durrington frowned, but went on as Elizabeth shook her head and smiled sadly at him. She knew his tricks. "That young lady is the daughter of Baron Ashurst and he has bestowed an extremely generous marriage portion on her. The other one, with whom you wasted your time, is her younger sister—who will have nothing. Nothing! He's not giving her a penny," his father said with an odd air of satisfaction.

"But why would a man do that?" Kit asked. "They're twins. Why wouldn't he split the money equally between the two of them?"

His father shook his head. "It seems as if the younger has not actually been presented. She's not making her come-out, only the elder. There are whispers that the younger is either already engaged and only here to see her sister well-launched, or her parents expect an offer for her but refuse to hear it until the elder is settled."

"You're meeting a young woman who is already engaged?" his sister asked.

Kit didn't have time to answer before his father continued. "The point is, this young woman you're so interested in is not only ineligible, she's not even on the market for a husband. So stop wasting your time with her."

Tatiana already had a beau? Kit thought back to the way she behaved the other night when her sister received so much attention. No, that couldn't be right. She hadn't acted as if she was already engaged. She had been hurt at being cut by the gentlemen surrounding her sister. A woman secure in the affections of another man wouldn't have behaved that way, Kit was certain of it.

But then that still left the question—why would her parents allow one daughter to make her come-out and not the other? Perhaps he could find out this afternoon.

"You certainly found out a lot about these two girls in a very short time, sir," Kit said.

Lord Durrington frowned harder. "I needed to since you are making absolutely no effort on your own behalf. I've gone from being an up-and-coming member of Parliament to matchmaker."

Kit stifled his laughter. "No need, sir. Truly, I am more than happy to--"

"You are more than happy to waste your time chasing after ineligible... Ah, wait now. Are you... could you possibly be that intelligent?" There was clearly something odd going through his father's mind, as he leaned back in his chair and put his hand to his chin.

"Sir?"

"You wouldn't deliberately become close to the younger one so that you would stand a stronger chance at the elder now, would you? No." His father dropped his hand and sighed heavily. "No. You aren't nearly that clever."

Kit frowned. "I am not that devious."

A smile lit up his father's face at the thought. "But I am." He waved his hand at Kit. "Go on then. Off to your assignation with young Miss Whatsername. But when it comes down to it, Kit, it's the elder you will offer for."

Kit stood and heard his father chuckle at his own cunning. He would not get caught up in his father's scheme—it was just not right.

On the other hand, if this allowed him to spend time with Tatiana, he would hold on to it—for now. He gave his sister a peck on her other cheek. "Good luck! Write as soon as you can. I want to hear all about the baby. I'm sure he'll be as beautiful as little Kate."

"And what makes you so certain it's a boy?" his sister asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Kit just shrugged his shoulders. "Because you already have a girl."

He gave his father a nod and headed out to meet with the fascinating, and now even more intriguing, Miss Tatiana.

As Tatiana sat down in Lady Bisley's drawing room, she glanced over at her sister next to her on the lush blue and gold brocade sofa. She had that scared baby bird look on her face. Tatiana almost laughed. She frequently got this way when she had to be social—of course, the night before she'd been so scared she'd completely bypassed the look and gone straight to terror. But today her wide-open eyes shifted this way and that as if she could be attacked from any direction.

She'd managed to hide her fear from their grandmother when she'd informed them, only minutes before they left the house, that they'd be paying morning calls. Now that they were here, clearly the reality had hit her. The room full of ladies and a few gentlemen all taking tea, nibbling sweets and chatting was a little intimidating, especially since they knew no one other than their grandmother. Even Tatiana had to admit to feeling a bit uncomfortable in the situation.

"You must be the Ashurst twins," a young woman said, settling down in the chair next to them.

"Yes," Tatiana answered, certain that her sister wouldn't say a word, and grateful that they wouldn't just be sitting in the middle of the room looking like lost puppies. She gave the woman a warm smile.

"I'm Cynthia Angles," the woman said with an understanding look—she must have been in this same situation herself. She looked to be about their age, only fair where they were both darker in coloring. Her pale blonde hair was put up in an intricate array of curls allowing just a few to fall and gently frame the perfect peaches and cream complexion of her face. If her chin and nose were a little too sharp, her soft curls and flowing dress softened the overall look of the girl.

"Is this your first season, Miss Angles?" Trina asked, much to Tatiana's surprise.

"Oh, no! It's my second. Although I received a number of proposals last season, they were all..." she paused and seemed to consider her words for a moment. "Well, older. I want to marry someone closer to my age."

"Oh goodness, yes!" Tatiana exclaimed. She would hate to marry an old man. A number of girls did, but she didn't think it would be nice. She desperately hoped that her parents didn't make her do so. Her husband, after all, would have to be young enough to have seven children with her. An older man wouldn't live long enough to have that many children, she thought with a giggle.

"I'm not certain but I might not mind an older gentleman," Trina said, clearly thinking about this.

"Truly?" Miss Angles asked, seeming as surprised as Tatiana.

"Well, yes. An older man would be more mature, more knowledgeable. And more likely to be thoughtful... or so I would think," Trina said and quickly lowered her eyes to her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

This statement rendered Tatiana speechless. Not only because this was the first time her sister had ever told her that she wanted to marry someone older, but also because Trina spoke openly to a stranger! This was not the Trina she knew so well. It was good... no, wonderful that her sister felt comfortable enough to speak to Miss Angles. It was just odd.

"...and you would not believe the dowry my son settled on the girl!" her grandmother's voice rang through a lull in the conversation around the room.

Tatiana desperately wished the sofa she and Trina were sitting on would swallow them both, and quickly. She was certain her face mirrored Trina's, which had just turned a brilliant red.

Miss Angles hid her smile behind her hand, but her wide eyes flitted back and forth from Tatiana and Trina to their grandmother on the other side of the room. "Is she...?"

"Our grandmother," Tatiana nodded, fighting the urge to hide her face in her hands.

"Well... I think she's actually doing you a service," Miss Angles admitted.

"What?" Trina asked in disbelief.

"Yes. If people know that you have a significant dowry, you're sure to get plenty of interest," she explained.

"But from men who are only interested in her money, not in her," Tatiana said.

"True, but interest is interest," Miss Angles said with a shrug.

"I suppose it's not called the "Marriage Mart" for nothing," Trina added.

Miss Angles giggled delicately behind her gloved hand once again. Tatiana could only turn and stare in surprise at her sister.

"This doesn't bother you?" she asked.

Trina lifted one negligent shoulder. "It does, but there isn't anything I can do about it, is there?"

"Hmmm, I don't know," Tatiana said. She had to think about that because, surely, there had to be _something_ they could do about it.

# Chapter Six

"Miss Tatiana, how lovely you look today," Kit said, dismounting from his horse and handing the reins over to his groom. He hadn't known whether Tatiana would be walking or riding, so he'd come prepared to do both. Now that it was clear that he wouldn't need his horse, he signaled to the groom to take him home.

"Thank you, Mr. Vallentyn. You don't mind a walk, do you?" she asked, watching the animal being led away.

"Not at all. It is a fine day for a walk." He could say this because he wore a thick wool coat with his leather breeches and riding boots. He just hoped that Tatiana would be as warm in her little spencer. The military-red, short-waisted jacket didn't look like it could keep very much of her warm, if at all, but it did look fetching over her simple white dress. The combination was extremely becoming and showed off her fine figure.

"...If a bit chilly," she said, with a little laugh. "I'll tell you a little secret." She stepped closer to him so that only he could hear. Still, he had to bend down a touch to catch her words. "I've called upon a pocket of warm air to stay close so that I don't feel the cold so severely."

Kit chuckled. She was obviously very comfortable with her magic. He liked that. She wasn't using her power to harm anyone, only to ensure her own comfort. There could be nothing wrong with that. He admired her pluck. She used her magic but discreetly enough so no one would notice.

The other night, of course, had been a different situation entirely. He stopped her from using her powers against ordinary men who wouldn't have known what had happened to them. Not only was it forbidden to use magic against those who had none, but it also would have made it obvious that Tatiana did. The Vallen, who had kept their existence secret from ordinary people for so many hundreds of years, could have been found! That was simply not acceptable and against everything Kit had ever been taught.

Miss Tatiana had clearly been furious, and rightly so, at getting snubbed. That still didn't make it right to use magic against the unwary. He was sure, however, she would never use her magic against others for her own gain—the other basic tenet of their people.

"And what about your sister?" he asked, noticing Miss Ekaterina Ashurst standing not too far away surrounded by a handful of gentlemen. "Won't she be cold?"

Tatiana glanced behind her. She turned back with a charming but mischievous smile on her face. "I'm sure she won't feel the cold with all those men around her."

Kit laughed and had to agree with her assessment.

Tatiana took the arm he offered and they began to walk slowly down the graveled lane that led deeper into Hyde Park. There were few riders out at this time. Most were people riding through the park on their way somewhere, rather than members of the ton out to see and be seen. So the walk was pleasant and uninterrupted.

Kit debated taking a side path through one of the smaller gardens, but decided it would be best to stay to the main pathway. With Miss Ashurst so busy and having Tatiana all to himself, Kit delved right in to his plan to learn more about her situation.

"It is your grandmother who is sponsoring you and your sister? Do your parents not care for London?" he asked, beginning his campaign in a gentle way.

"Only Trina is being brought out. I honestly don't know how my mother feels about town, but my father certainly does not enjoy it." She turned toward him with a smile and a slight twinkle in her eye. "He always feels compelled to go to Parliament and then becomes upset at the goings-on there."

Kit laughed. "My father is exactly the opposite. He loves being in town. Loves attending Parliament. He even insists that I go, even though I don't have a seat."

"But you will have a seat, so perhaps it's a good thing to get you used to and learn how to manage. I don't know that my father ever had anyone take him under his wing like that."

Kit acknowledged the wisdom of her words. "I never actually thought of it that way. Personally, I side with your father in that I don't enjoy it at all. But if I were to tell that to either my father or grandfather, I would be drummed right out of the family for such heresy."

"Oh, dear!" she laughed. "Are they very devoted, then?"

"Very!" This line of conversation did not get him any closer to what he wanted to know. He paused to regroup his thoughts and then asked, "And how do _you_ feel about London? Are you enjoying your stay so far?"

Tatiana turned her head away with a thoughtful look. He wondered if she knew how expressive her face was. If only he could read thoughts or emotions, he would be able to decipher all that was clearly going through her mind.

Her expression seemed pained at times but determined. And he realized, with a start, that she looked different. Somehow she looked... beautiful.

Her lips and cheeks seemed fuller, her eyes an unfathomable black, and she seemed suffused with an inner radiance that hadn't been there only a moment ago. He felt his senses tingle as a flame of desire flickered within him.

And then she turned back toward him and he realized it must have been his imagination playing tricks on him, for she looked just as she had before—pretty, but not the stunning beauty he thought he had somehow glimpsed.

"Enjoying my stay? Yes, I am, now that I've met you."

Her words, although softly spoken, hit him hard. The flame resurrected itself but now spread heat throughout his body and mind. The only thing that kept him from figuratively jumping for joy was the sadness laced through her words. Could it be true she already had an offer of marriage waiting? Could that be what made her sound unhappy? But then, why couldn't she just turn down the offer if she was no longer interested in the gentleman?

Unless she didn't have a choice in the matter.

The thought sent ice following the heat running through him. That must be it. That must be the answer to all of his questions. For some reason, she was being sacrificed in marriage while her sister was free to choose whomever she wished.

Were those unshed tears glittering in her eyes? She shook her head. "I apologize, I should not have spoken so freely."

She misinterpreted his silence. Kit's heart lurched within his chest. "No. No, I appreciate plain speaking. More than most men, I imagine. It is just that I feel the same way. I... I thoroughly enjoy your company as well. Much more so than, perhaps, I should."

"What do you mean?" she asked, cocking her head a little to one side. She seemed to pull a smile from somewhere deep inside of her.

Kit gave a little shrug. "It is nothing. You are a thoroughly delightful companion, that is all." How could he possibly complain to her about being pressured to find a wife, when she had no alternative but to accept some stranger as her husband? He, at least, had a choice. It wasn't much of one—he could do as he wished and devote all of his time and energy to running the family estate and be happy, or he could make his father happy and try to find a wife. He'd tried the first and been made to suffer his father's constant haranguing, his insults, his sneers at the work he considered beneath his son. So now Kit would try it his father's way... mostly. He didn't like the idea of courting Miss Tatiana as a way to get closer to her sister. That just didn't sit right with him.

Still, this line of conversation didn't calm his curiosity as to why her parents offered her sister a fabulous dowry yet not even allow Tatiana to look about for a husband of her own. "I was saddened to hear rumors that you would only be in town for a short time."

Tatiana turned her eyes away from him again. Immediately, Kit wanted to cut his tongue out. Why could he not keep the conversation on a light and happy subject? He was only upsetting her with this line of questioning.

"Yes. Unfortunately, my parents have only allowed me to come to see my sister settled. I'll be returning home in less than a fortnight."

"That is a very short time!" Kit couldn't help the words popping out of his mouth.

Less than two weeks! How could he possibly get to know someone in so little time, especially when society dictated that they spend no more than thirty minutes together at a time? And he did, indeed, want to get to know Tatiana much better.

With a start, he realized that he was drawn to her unlike any other woman he'd ever met. Could it be that his father's idea he marry wasn't such a bad one after all?

Tatiana was clearly Vallen and comfortable with her magic. She had an easy confidence and a frankness that he found disarming and attractive; she certainly wasn't practiced in the banter and flirtation considered as the currency of the ton. She wasn't even very beautiful—or was she?

What exactly was it about her that he liked so much? He didn't know precisely--just what his intuition told him—Tatiana was a very special young woman.

She was giving him a sad, little smile. Her gaze slipped behind them for a moment, but then her whole head turned to look back.

Kit followed suit to see what had caught her attention. It seemed as if a comedy was being enacted behind them. Miss Ashurst attempted to walk forward, but so many men surrounded her it was nearly impossible. All of the gentlemen jostled each other, elbowing and walking around one another, to be the one to walk beside her. As each one tried to capture her attention, he would move forward to walk next to her, forcing the others to shift and make room for him. Then another would discover something to say, and so it went. It made for a rather amusing dance.

"It is so sad," Tatiana said, turning back to face him, both amusement and concern on her face. "She is completely overwhelmed by all the attention."

"She does seem to be that way," Kit agreed, looking back over his shoulder. Miss Ashurst certainly did not look particularly happy—more like lost in a sea of men with her attention tossed this way and that by the waves of their persistence.

"Maybe..." Tatiana's word trailed off as she turned and began to raise her arm toward the group.

As he had the night before, he grabbed her hand before she could let lose any magic. All right, so maybe she wasn't always so discreet with her magic. "But if you do that, it will spoil all the fun," he said, laughing to soften his control of her actions. She didn't seem to be the type of young woman to allow anyone to tell her what to do. "Surely, your sister can handle this."

Tatiana's eyes widened, and a slow blush crept into her cheeks. Her eyes darted around to see if anyone else had noticed her slip. "I don't know that she can, but you're right. I should not, cannot use magic here."

"Someone might see you," Kit agreed. How nice that she was intelligent enough to know that would _not_ be a good thing. He definitely admired a clever woman.

She shook her head and put her hand to her now flushed cheek. "I've got to remember where I am. I'm afraid I'm just not used to being in such a public place. At home... well, everyone is Vallen so we don't think about using magic whenever we want. But it is wrong. I know that. Poor Trina, though, has never had so much attention before. She's completely out of her league."

"Well then, what she needs is a little guidance—a word or an idea of how she can handle the situation." Subtlety was his favorite way of approaching challenges. Between that and his charm, he'd never encountered a problem that couldn't be solved. And magic, he'd learned from an early age, was not always the best solution.

Tatiana nodded, still caught up in her own thoughts. But one of his own thoughts nearly stopped him cold. He wasn't upset that Tatiana had nearly used magic against unsuspecting people. Why not? He usually became furious when he saw magic being done in public.

But somehow Tatiana's near use of magic didn't bother him. Why? Could it be her remorse when he caught her? That she so easily acquiesced to his alternative suggestion? Regardless, it was very strange. But he _truly_ wasn't bothered.

He looked over at her and wondered if she had used something magical on him. Something to make him so attracted to her?

No. This wasn't magic, at least not the ordinary sort. It was simply Tatiana.

He couldn't help but watch her as a smile slowly grew on her face, until finally she gave him a bright, happy grin. "Yes, of course. How absolutely brilliant, Mr. Vallentyn."

She stopped and turned toward her sister. Peering at Miss Ashurst through the men, Tatiana seemed to be silently calling her name. It impressed Kit that she could speak mind-to-mind to her sister. They must have a special connection, he thought. They were twins, after all.

Miss Ashurst looked over at Tatiana questioningly, and not a little exasperated. Her expression cleared almost immediately, though. She even went so far as to smile and give her sister a quick nod of her head.

She stopped. This caused all the men around her to bump into each other; some had stopped with her and others had kept on walking. Miss Ashurst smiled, looking around at all of the men from under her lashes. She said something that Kit couldn't hear, and then put her hands through the arms of the two men standing closest to her. They all found whatever she said quite amusing.

The crowd laughed and bowed. To Kit's surprise, all but the two she held on to said their prompt goodbyes. Within moments, there were only the two men left—and the trio were able to walk forward again quite comfortably.

"Well done!" Kit said, taking Tatiana's hand and pulling it around his own arm. Oh yes, she was definitely very intelligent and excellent at solving problems. She'd not only taken care of the issue, but had done so with grace and cleverness within the confines of what was acceptable for her do in public.

Oh, but he was in serious trouble!

Kit appreciated the fact that it took relatively little effort to keep up a light, entertaining conversation for the remainder of the walk because his mind was in turmoil.

He hated the fact that his father might have been right. He probably should get married. He'd thought that his estate was all he needed to be happy, but being with Tatiana made him realize exactly what he was missing at Vallentyn—companionship. Intelligent, amusing conversation. A thoughtful person to be with. Even someone to give him a bit of a challenge.

On the other hand, his father did not want him to marry Tatiana. In fact, she was exactly the opposite of Lord Durrington's choice. She had no dowry. No political connections. She might not even be available for him to marry. This fact annoyed him more than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

So now he would have the doubly unpleasant task of telling his father that he was right, and that he didn't want to marry the type of girl his father pushed him toward. This was not going to easy or pleasant!

They reached the main gate to the park much sooner than Kit would have liked. He was forced to draw this pleasant excursion to a close and get back to the work that waited for him—and quite possibly his father.

Taking Tatiana's hand in his, he bowed over it and said politely, "I have enjoyed your company thoroughly, Miss Tatiana. Thank you for allowing me the honor of escorting you this afternoon."

She gave him a smile and a small curtsey. "The honor has been mine, sir. Will I have the pleasure of your company sometime soon? Perhaps you'll come to call on Thursday? My sister and I will be at home."

The thought that he could see her again—that she wanted to see him again, and in merely two days—made him happier than it should have. "I will do my best, but I'm afraid I can make no promises."

The flash of disappointment in her eyes almost made him promise something he knew he couldn't. He would do his best to get away but couldn't risk making a promise he might not be able to keep. He didn't know how amenable his father would be to him visiting with Tatiana again. Perhaps it would be best if he simply didn't mention which Ashurst girl he would be seeing. Damn! But he hated being under his father's thumb. He was used to his freedom at Vallentyn. Being in London and following the dictates of his father was getting more and more difficult and bothersome.

He departed before Miss Ashurst and her entourage caught up to them. Perhaps if he told his father that he would be meeting Miss Ashurst, he wouldn't mind that Kit was "chasing after the wrong sister". And if he did call at their home, then he would be meeting the elder sister, so he wouldn't be lying. The thought kept him in good spirits for the rest of his walk home.

# Chapter Seven

"So, is there one gentleman you favor above the others?" Tatiana asked her sister, as they walked home from the park after saying goodbye to the two remaining gentlemen who had escorted Trina.

Trina looked at her, eyebrows knit. "How could there be, when I have only just met them?"

"Well, you spent a good deal of time at the ball, the soirée last night and again today with the most fervent of your admirers. Surely, you have some impression of them. One or two who you like better than the others?"

Trina thought about this for a minute. "No. They've all only spoken of such silly things. There is no possible way I could make a decision based on such nonsense."

Tatiana laughed at her sister. "Well, what did you expect, for them to discuss the merits of chamomile over ginger in calming the stomach? Of course they only spoke to you of nothing. That's what social discourse is."

"Well, I wouldn't expect them to know anything about herbs," Trina said, frowning.

"Do you want them to discuss politics with you, then?"

"No. I don't know what they might find interesting, but surely they must have some intelligent conversation," Trina snapped. If she'd put any magic behind her words, Tatiana might have felt them. Luckily, Trina didn't have such power. In fact, she had almost none at all. It made Tatiana sad to think all that her sister missed because of her. She had gotten both her own and Trina's magical ability—simply because Tatiana held the very special position as the seventh child.

She knew it was her guilt nagging at her, driving her determination to see Trina happily married—that, and the fact that her sister deserved nothing less. She deserved to be happy, and she had the opportunity to marry a man who would make her so.

Tatiana wondered if it would it be better if Trina married an ordinary man. With so little power of her own, it would probably make no difference who she married—so long as she loved him and he her.

"No. I'm sorry, Trina. These men honestly have nothing of interest to say," Tatiana said, pulling her mind back to the matter at hand.

"Nothing at all?" Trina asked, clearly shocked by this news.

Tatiana shrugged. "Not really. Or, I should say, it is very rare to find a man who does have any sort of intelligent conversation to share with a female. I've tried, I assure you."

"What about your gentleman? What's his name?"

Tatiana couldn't help but smile. "Mr. Vallentyn. Christopher Vallentyn."

"Vallentyn? Are you serious? Such a name exists?" Her sister was as amused as Tatiana had been when she'd first heard his name.

Tatiana laughed. "Yes! And yes, he is Vallen, although I don't know how powerful. He doesn't seem to like to use his magic, nor does he let me."

Trina stopped completely to stare at her. "What do you mean he doesn't _let_ you? Has he stopped you?"

Tatiana took her arm before answering and led her into the quiet square where their grandmother lived. "I, er, was tempted at the ball," Tatiana began, avoiding eye contact with her sister.

Trina began to laugh. "I knew you would not be able to deal with me being the favored one. I knew it!"

"No! That's not right. That's not fair. I just never realized..." Tatiana attempted to defend herself.

"You never realized just how awful it is to be the ugly one. The one that men ignore, or only pay attention to in order to finagle an introduction," her sister finished.

Tatiana felt ashamed of herself. Her sister, of course, had hit it right on the mark.

"I knew it. I told you not to dampen your own looks, but you insisted." Trina shook her head and fell silent as they entered the house.

Tatiana hated it when her sister was right.

"Did you have a pleasant walk, girls?" their grandmother asked when they joined her in her cozy private drawing room. She paused, giving Tatiana a confused look. "Oh dear, did something go wrong? Tatiana, you are looking daggers. I do hope none of the gentlemen did anything inappropriate. You never know with men."

Tatiana cleared the frown off of her face as Trina laughed. "Oh no, they were all perfectly behaved. You should not mind my sister, ma'am, she always gets angry when I'm right. And you were correct, too."

Lady Ashurst raised her hand to pause her granddaughter's flow of conversation and gave a nod to the waiting footman. Thomas was also Vallen, although not very powerful, he had the immensely useful ability to know in advance when his mistress wanted something. He always appeared at her side before she was even aware of her desire. Lady Ashurst gave a satisfied smile, then motioned for the girls to continue.

"Yes, Trina was absolutely mobbed by gentlemen at the park," Tatiana said, sitting down in the chair opposite her grandmother. She schooled her face into a pleasant expression.

"No, that's not what I was referring to. Tatiana's right, though, I was," Trina said, looking down at her hands for a moment. "I managed to send all but two of them off, promising that I would see them Thursday afternoon when they came to call."

"Very well done, my girl," her grandmother said approvingly. "Then you've come to realize that I was correct to crow about your dowry when we were out."

Both girls sat in silence.

"Oh, you two can sit there in your disapproval, but you have just admitted that it worked. Trina was surrounded by men all wanting to make her acquaintance, all wanting to court her. And why?"

"Because they're all interested in her money!" Tatiana answered before their grandmother could continue.

"Yes!" Lady Ashurst answered happily. "They're all in need of marrying a young woman with funds."

"But then how will we know if they're interested in her, ma'am? Trina shouldn't marry someone just because he needs her money. She should marry for love!" Tatiana tried to reign in her emotions, but the thought of her sister marrying some money-grubbing fellow made her so upset. Especially when she had such a wonderful opportunity just waiting for her to snatch it up.

"I'm not certain that I want to marry for love," Trina said, her voice quiet with thought.

"What?" Tatiana's head snapped toward her sister.

Trina had the grace to blush delicately. "I don't really think that I could just meet someone and fall in love with him so quickly. And I'm not certain that a man I did fall in love with like that would be the right man for me to marry."

"Very right, my dear!" their grandmother said, nodding her head and smiling her encouragement.

"But..." Tatiana was stunned.

"I know you think very highly of love, Tatiana. I'm more interested in marrying a man who respects my intelligence, which is why I look for meaningful conversation with the men who are wooing me," Trina said. "I want someone I can share my life with and who will share his with me. Someone I can be partners with."

"How very wise, my love," Lady Ashurst approved. "And the only way you'll find someone like that is to make yourself attractive to as many men as possible. You don't want someone to avoid you because he thinks that you might not have funds." She turned towards Tatiana. "Which is why I am letting it be known far and wide that she does. I want to expand her choices, not limit them to those who are attracted by her pretty face."

Trina laughed. "No, I certainly don't want a man attracted to this face. It's not my real one and if that's all he's attracted to he'll be very disappointed when Tatiana's spell wears off."

Tatiana was stunned. Absolutely speechless. All that her sister said made complete sense.

Trina turned back toward their grandmother. "The other thing you were right about, Grandmama, was that Tatiana couldn't stand not getting all of the attention at the ball the other night," Trina said, giggling. "She nearly did something to the men surrounding me. Only that gentleman, Mr. Vallentyn, stopped her."

Their grandmother laughed. "I suspected as much. He seems to be a very nice young man. I like that one."

"On our way home from the park, I tried to find out which one of the many gentlemen besieging Trina she liked better than the others. She refuses to make a decision," Tatiana said to push the conversation away from her own failing.

"And I told you there is no possible way I could know that since they all speak in nothings," her sister answered. "Why can't you let me have more time to decide? Is there a rush?"

Trina stopped, her eyes growing wide. "Oh! There is, isn't there. You like Mr. Vallentyn. But you can't... Oh, Tatiana." This last was more a horrified whisper, as the realization of Tatiana's position hit her.

Tatiana thought her heart stopped. How could it not? Trina had discovered her secret.

# Chapter Eight

It had hit her like a blow to her stomach after Mr. Vallentyn had asked whether she was enjoying her time in town. Tatiana took a closer look at her sister. "How did you know?"

Trina shrugged. "Something happened while we were at the park. I could feel you. It was odd, actually. At first you were very happy walking with Mr. Vallentyn, and then very quickly you became upset and then angry. I looked to see what happened, and saw Mr. Vallentyn watching you as if waiting for an answer to a question."

"Yes. He asked me how I was liking my stay here."

"And that made you upset? Are you not enjoying yourself, my dear?" her grandmother asked, concern laced in her words.

"Oh, yes, Grandmama! I am enjoying myself immensely. It's just..." Tatiana didn't quite know how to answer.

"It has something to do with Mr. Vallentyn," Trina answered, clearly trying to figure out what was going through Tatiana's mind.

It was so odd, thought Tatiana. She had never realized her sister could be so empathetic before. How could she have not noticed?

"When he asked me that," Tatiana explained, "at first I thought about how much fun I've had— at the ball after I met Mr. Vallentyn, shopping, visiting, even at the soiree last night, ma'am. Your insightful comments about everyone there was great fun!"

"But..." Trina supplied.

"But it's Mr. Vallentyn's presence I've enjoyed the most," she said, trying hard to keep the distress from her voice.

Their grandmother sighed loudly. Her eyes flicked to Trina before settling back on Tatiana. "You are attracted to Mr. Vallentyn." It was a statement, not a question.

"I suppose I am," Tatiana admitted, allowing her gaze to fall to her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "But I will not be given a choice or even allowed to suggest candidates for my hand as far as I know. It will all be up to my mother to choose for me. For the first time in my life I..." she swallowed hard and then continued in a whisper, "I almost wish I hadn't been born to this destiny."

Silence held the room in its grip for a good minute.

"But there is nothing I can do," Tatiana said finally, taking control of herself and mentally pressing her back against the wall of duty in her mind. She shoved her silly dreams firmly behind it.

"My destiny is my own, and I shall do my duty as I always have." She paused to distance herself from her emotions. "And so should you, Trina. You need to decide which man you want to marry. I know there are a number vying for your hand, but you've got to make an effort to choose one."

Trina looked for a moment as if she would cry. Tatiana wondered whether it was on her behalf or because she'd scolded her sister. It didn't matter. They would both do their duty. She would think no more of Mr. Vallentyn. There could be nothing worse than pining for someone you could never have.

Trina gave a sniff but pulled herself together. "Yes. You're right. I..." she cleared her throat. "I will do my best to discover which of my suitors I like best."

Tatiana turned this way and that, studying her reflection in the mirror. Her looks weren't that bad. She was just... thinner. Her dress hung rather limply on her frame, but her eyes still held their own sparkle. At least she knew she still hid behind this reflection that was her, yet not really her.

A knock on the door made her jump. "Yes?" she called out.

Her grandmother closed the door behind her. "Tatiana, I believe we need to have a word."

Confusion dampened the fire in Tatiana's eye before she turned to face her grandmother. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I am certain that you are well aware of what your role here is meant to be, but I'm worried that you might get caught up in the excitement of your sister's come-out." Well, it was clear where Tatiana got her straight-forward way of speaking!

Nodding her head, Tatiana said, "It _is_ quite exciting, ma'am, but I assure you I am not about to forget myself or why I am here. Have I not done all that I could to help my sister so far?"

"Indeed you have, and you are. I appreciate that, and I'm certain your parents will as well. However..." she paused to give Tatiana a meaningful look. "I am still concerned."

"You need not..."

"There is the matter of Mr. Vallentyn, Tatiana," her grandmother interrupted.

Tatiana swallowed hard. She should have known this would come up. "I am trying my best to not think of him. And I will avoid him if I can." Why did this hurt so much? It should not be painful to merely avoid a man, and yet...

"I promised your mother that you would not have your head turned by any gentlemen," her grandmother reminded her.

"I know, ma'am."

"You promised her the same."

"Yes."

"And yet..." Lady Ashurst's frown became fiercer by the minute. Tatiana didn't know if her grandmother was leading up to something more serious—a punishment? Some sort of magical impediment? Tatiana had no idea what was going through her grandmother's mind, the old woman had shuttered it against intrusion.

"I swear, Grandmother, I will not allow Mr. Vallentyn to turn my head any further. I'm just not certain I know what to do. If he speaks to me, politeness dictates that I respond."

Her grandmother frowned. "Naturally, if he speaks to you, you must respond, but try not to prolong the engagement. Be firm and polite and move on."

"Yes, ma'am. I _will_ keep my promise."

Lady Ashurst nodded, satisfied. "I will trust you as your mother has done so. Just be mindful..."

"I am. And I will be. I am here to support Trina and nothing else."

Her grandmother was right. It wasn't pleasant. It wasn't what she wanted. But it was what she'd agreed upon when her mother had finally relented and allowed her to accompany Trina to London. She would try harder to avoid Mr. Vallentyn.

If only her eyes would stop stinging and her stomach would unknot.

# Chapter Nine

Kit gathered together the day's correspondence and took a quick glance around at the busts of politicians. They stared down at him expectantly.

He had three letters to reply to and a couple more to write. He remained in the middle of delicate negotiations with a neighbor to rent out two of his bulls to stud, but he wasn't getting the price he deserved.

He sighed as he sat back to decide how to word this letter and ignored the prying eyes that watched him. He would probably just have enough time to finish this, but the rest of the correspondence would have to wait until he returned from his visit to Tatiana and her sister. His mouth became dry at the thought of admitting his father had been right—well, mostly right. Kit still hadn't figured out how to tell him that he wouldn't allow a dowry or political connections dictate who he courted or married. Perhaps it would be best to just get it over with quickly.

"Father," Kit began as he stood up, the letter still in his hand.

Lord Durrington's eyes flicked up from his own correspondence which he read in his chair by the fire, but only for the briefest moment as an acknowledge that Kit had spoken.

Kit tried to swallow.

"Well?" his father prompted.

Kit took a deep breath and summoned both his charm and confidence—after all, what could his father do? He was a grown man, not a child to be told what to do. "I'll be going to the Ashurst's this afternoon. I have found that I'm beginning to see your point that I should marry. I'd forgotten how pleasant it is to have female companionship."

His father sat back in his chair, his letter forgotten. He didn't say anything for a full minute, leaving Kit to stand there awkwardly. Maybe he should have taken a page from Tatiana's book and put some magic into his words. But no, he would not, should not.

"Christopher, if you continue to pursue that younger Ashurst girl, I _will_ disinherit you. And see that my father does as well," Lord Durrington said. The serious expression on his face told Kit that he was neither joking nor exaggerating.

Shock stopped everything for a moment, but Kit quickly clamped his lips together to keep back the slew of angry words that filled his mouth. Well, his father certainly didn't mince his words today!

"You wanted me to marry. I plan on doing so..."

"As I said, if you continue to pursue the younger sister, I _will_ disinherit you."

"You can't..." Kit started.

"I most certainly can. You have a younger cousin who has done very well for himself. He is married and already has a child. He is perfectly capable of taking your place."

Kit opened his mouth to say something, but his mind went blank from the seething anger. He _was_ being treated like a naughty child.

And just like that, the idea popped into his mind. If he was going to be treated like a child, perhaps he should behave as one.

Kit lowered his eyes in feigned acceptance. Infusing his words with a dose of his magical charm, he said, "You're right, Father. How ridiculous I have been to waste my time with someone who is not even available, let alone eligible. I shall give her the cut direct if I see her and lavish all of my attention on her elder sister."

His father frowned. "There is no need to be rude to her, naturally. You may even converse with the girl if you wish. I just don't want you even thinking about any sort..." His father's words petered out and the man narrowed his eyes at Kit. "I thought you didn't believe in using your magic, Christopher! Are you that desperate?" His father's tone struck Kit sharply.

Kit took a step back, but he could feel the blow, almost as if his father had physically hit him. He wisely kept his mouth shut. The papers in his hands, though, would be irreparably creased as his fingers slowly curled.

"You haven't done that since you were a child," his father continued, his own anger clearly simmering just beneath the surface of his words.

"Which is exactly how you've been treating me." The words exploded out of Kit's mouth before he could stop them. Now, not only was he behaving like a child, he sounded like one too. Damn his father!

"You are giving me no choice. You are chasing after an entirely ineligible girl, and behaving like a besotted fool."

"Ineligible, perhaps, but I don't care about her dowry or lack of one. I don't care that her father hates parliament. I'm not interested in being a politician.

"We have had this conversation before," his father said with a sigh as if he were bored.

"Yes, we have, but you don't seem to have heard me—not before and not now. I am going to marry, doesn't that make you happy?"

"No! It doesn't!" His father shot up out of his seat with his next words. "You have a position, a title, a family name to uphold. Do these things mean so little to you that you would throw them away on a nothing, penniless girl?"

"Tatiana isn't nothing," Kit ground out.

"No? Then what is she?"

"She's... she's different." It was the weakest defense he could possibly have mounted but certainly the truth. "I don't know what it is about her, Father. But Tatiana is different from any other woman I've ever met. She's--"

"Not beautiful," his father finished.

"No. She's not beautiful. But I'm not certain of that. I think she's doing something to make herself appear less attractive," Kit said. That one glimpse on their walk, just for a moment when she had been preoccupied...

"No girl in her right mind would make herself look less beautiful. Please, Christopher, do try and be a little rational about this."

"I don't know. But even if she isn't lovely, she is certainly clever and intelligent."

"Clever and intelligent." His father considered that for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes, I do believe you're exactly right. She is very clever. Very intelligent. I just don't quite know what her game is. If she's got a fiancé at home, why is she trying to ensnare you? You have an influential father and grandfather. Perhaps your title will be greater than whoever it is she has waiting for her. Perhaps she's become wise to the benefits of marriage with someone who will someday hold an important position within the government. Whatever it is, I can tell you this—if you marry her, not only will you be without a position in society, you will be flat broke. No allowance. No inheritance. No _farm_ for you to fiddle around with. Nothing!" He shook his head in disgust and picked up the letter he had been reading. "Don't let this girl trick you into marrying her, Kit. You'll spend the rest of your life regretting it."

Within minutes of the clock chiming three, the knocker began pounding and had hardly stopped since. At not fifteen minutes past the hour, ten men were arrayed around the formal drawing room sipping tea, alternately chatting amongst themselves, with Tatiana's grandmother and trying to get Trina's attention.

Tatiana was amazed at how quickly her sister had bloomed. Only four days ago, Trina had been introduced to the world of the ton. She'd been so shy; she'd hardly said a word to any of the gentlemen vying for her attention. Her beauty, enhanced with Tatiana's magic and a marriage portion fit for a princess, had quickly made Trina one of the most sought-after young ladies of the season. Unfortunately, she had absolutely no experience being in such a position and had been, at first, entirely out of her league. But now...

Tatiana watched with a combination of pride and dismay as her usually quiet sister laughed out loud at the utter nonsense being spouted by the gentleman sitting next to her. They sat in the arrangement of chairs closest to the fireplace, although one gentleman had pulled his chair closer to Trina's than was strictly proper. Other men had dragged more chairs over, so they too could be a part of her exclusive circle. Her grandmother either did not mind the men being so forward, or hadn't noticed.

"But, sir, you cannot mean it!" Trina said, still giggling. "You would never do something so bold."

"For you, Miss Ashurst, I would do anything," the gentleman said, bowing as well as he could from the chair.

Trina laughed again and turned her attention to the gentleman on her other side. "You, I know, my lord, would do nothing of the sort. You are too clever of a gentleman to do something as silly as Mr. Bretton."

The man smiled and took her hand. "You know me entirely too well, Miss Ashurst."

Trina very delicately extracted her hand from his grasp. "You were going to tell me about your latest journey to your estate. Did you find all as you had hoped? I do hope that by now your crops are..."

"Please, Miss Ashurst," the man interrupted her, "You cannot seriously be interested in the state of the crops at Sligington." He laughed at the thought.

Trina smiled in response, but turned her head slightly to catch Tatiana's eye. The expression Tatiana saw there was a sad, _you were right_.

Tatiana nodded a sympathetic response. It was disappointing that these men could not believe that Trina could have a brain in her head and actually want to use it. They were clearly not the man for her, not one of them.

"Trina is just funning with you, my lord," Lady Ashurst said, turning to join in the conversation. She looked up to give Tatiana a repressive look.

Tatiana could see very well that her grandmother was silently telling her to stay out of this affair. Yes, she put ideas into Trina's head—ideas that a man should respect a woman's thoughts and suggestions. Silly ideas that Lady Ashurst desperately tried to strip from Trina's mind. Thinking that men should respect a woman's intellect was how a woman stayed a spinster for her entire life—and Lady Ashurst had promised her daughter-in-law that she would have Trina well married by the end of the season.

"Did you say that you and Miss Ashurst are twins?" asked a gentleman, standing closest to Tatiana.

She turned toward the man and cursed her ability to read the thoughts of others when they looked at her. She hadn't wanted to know of her grandmother's anger. And she certainly wouldn't stop supporting her sister in her desire to marry a man who respected her intelligence and listened to what she said.

The man addressing Tatiana was dressed to the hilt in a ruffled shirt with lace coming out of the ends of his sleeves and a quizzing glass dangling on a bright red velvet ribbon around his neck. A dim-witted dandy, she surmised, and probably just the sort her grandmother liked courting her highly intelligent sister. Tatiana forced herself not to give the man the cut direct. With a sigh, she forced her lips up into what she hoped passed for a smile. Speaking slowly so that he could understand her, she said, "Yes. That's right."

"But you don't look alike. She's far prettier than you," the man said, looking Tatiana over from head to foot. The gall of this man! He was even more of an idiot than she had originally surmised.

Tatiana lowered her eyes so that he couldn't see the fire leaping out of them. She certainly would have scorched the wig right off his head. Instead, she stared at his feet ensconced in shoes with high, red heels.

Even with her beauty dimmed, she did not come close to being as ugly as this fellow. The nerve of him to say that she was not pretty—and right to her face!

The smoke coming from his shoes snapped her back to her senses.

"Humph! Cat got your tongue, Miss? Did no one tell you that it is polite to respond when spoken to?" the man sneered, not even aware that his toes were practically in flames.

Tatiana could almost see Mr. Vallentyn's face in her mind's eye, shaking his head sadly at her despite the twinkle in his eye. No, she should not do this. She must control herself.

She also had to banish Mr. Vallentyn from her mind. She thought she'd gotten better—had only thought of him a few times the day before and only twice so far today. She was determined to put him out of her mind entirely as she'd promised her grandmother, but she supposed that would take time.

She looked back up at the dolt in front of her, still waiting for her response. "My sister and I are twins. We are not identical twins. We are merely as alike as two sisters might be." There, that should be simple enough so that even such an imbecile could comprehend it.

She really must learn to control herself, she thought, without Mr. Vallentyn's intervention—actual or imagined. But then again, when dealing with such idiots as this fellow, why should she? She sniffed and a scent caught her attention—musk with a hint of ink.

Mr. Vallentyn! She spun around, her heart pounding with joyful anticipation. No! She must not. Her promise to her grandmother burned through her mind.

Mr. Vallentyn looked startled for a moment at her sudden movement, but it quickly dissolved into a warm smile. "Did I surprise you?"

How was she to avoid him in this overcrowded room? There was no way to do so. She would have to be polite, just as her grandmother had said, but not encouraging. "No. I just didn't see you arrive. I am so glad you could come."

"Thank you. Your back was to the door, but you knew I was here?"

"Er, yes." She could feel heat flooding her cheeks.

"Something tells me I should not ask how you knew," he said with a chuckle.

"It was not in the way you think," she assured him, looking to see if the imbecile still stood within easy hearing of her words. He wasn't. But despite the fact that it was a good-sized room, there were so many people present it would be impossible for someone not to overhear her.

"No? Well then, you have been very good at restraining yourself. I saw what you did just now. Very well done." Pride laced through his words, and Tatiana felt a little thrill of excitement that he had witnessed her control and recognized it.

"Thank you. I _am_ trying."

"Not only are you trying, but you're succeeding."

"Just wait, sir, I have something even more interesting planned for a little later on," Tatiana admitted. She didn't know when her sister would finally get fed up with the mindless nonsense from the gentlemen that filled their drawing room. But when she did, Tatiana had a little plan ready to go into action, which would solve all of her sister's problems. And it didn't involve any magic at all—well, hardly any.

Despite their grandmother's machinations, Tatiana was determined to weed out only those interested in Trina's money. Luckily, Trina had agreed. The two sisters had decided that she would do her best this afternoon to speak with as many men as she could, to try to determine who might be true suitors.

But if that didn't work, Tatiana had her back-up plan that she would put into motion, despite her grandmother's presence. She didn't know if or how badly she would be punished for this, but her sister's happiness was worth it, no matter what.

"Your tone makes me quake in fear, Miss Tatiana," Kit said, but a gleam of amusement in his eye belied his words. He paused for a moment, and then said a little shame-facedly, "Do you know that I haven't even had the honor of meeting your sister? Would you mind terribly?"

"No! Not at all," Tatiana said, truly not minding at all. She had wanted her sister and Mr. Vallentyn to meet. Then Trina would understand why she had such a difficult time getting him out of her mind, and her grandmother couldn't mind Tatiana introducing her to another eligible gentleman.

As they squeezed through the crush to reach Trina, who had moved to the middle of the room, all of Tatiana's promises to keep her distance from Mr. Vallentyn disappeared like the Isle of Avalon. By the time they reached her sister, it was as if Tatiana's good intentions had never existed. She deliberately kept her eyes away, far away, from her grandmother's gaze. She wanted no more reminders of her duty.

After the introduction was made and Mr. Vallentyn bowed to Trina, he said, "You are patience personified, Miss Ashurst."

"Oh no, why do you say such a thing, sir? Indeed, I have been thinking the same of you." She gave a little laugh, but Tatiana knew better than to think that her sister was flirting with Mr. Vallentyn. Oddly enough, Tatiana felt nothing but happiness that her sister and Mr. Vallentyn were already becoming friends.

"For dealing with all of this," he said and indicated the room full of men.

"Oh, that. Well, it is only because I have put my trust in my sister that I am able to do so," Trina responded, reaching out to give Tatiana's arm an affectionate squeeze.

"She mentioned just now that she has something in mind for later, but didn't say what it was," he responded, giving her a smile.

"No, we shall not say a word, sir. You will learn of it when the time comes—which, Tatiana, I think may be in the very near future." Trina said, looking around the room.

"Already?" Tatiana said, surprised. She was sure her sister would want to bask some more in the attention of so many gentlemen, but then she truly wasn't used to so much attention.

"Soon," Trina nodded. She then turned back to Mr. Vallentyn, who looked back and forth between the two of them, a slightly hesitant smile lingering on his lips.

"Your grandmother...?" Mr. Vallentyn asked as his eyes flicked over to the side of the room where Lady Ashurst was holding a small court of her own.

"She knows nothing of this, I assure you," Tatiana answered quickly.

"I can only hope that Tatiana won't be too severely punished..." Trina began.

Tatiana grabbed her arm and looked straight into her sister's eyes. "Whatever happens it will be fine. Trust me!"

There was an awkward silence.

"And why is it you believe I am so very patient?" Mr. Vallentyn asked Trina, filling the void very nicely.

"The way you deal with my sister, of course. Our mother has forever scolded her for her lack of restraint. Yet you seem able to curtail her magic with ease," Trina answered, returning immediately to her light-hearted banter. Tatiana was more than grateful to her.

Mr. Vallentyn burst out laughing. "Why am I unsurprised by this revelation?"

Trina just looked up at Mr. Vallentyn. "You seem to have gotten to know my sister very well and very quickly, sir."

Tatiana could feel a little heat begin to rise in her cheeks.

"Indeed," Mr. Vallentyn said, smiling over at her, "I feel as if I know her quite well. Why do you think that is?"

Was he asking her? All Tatiana did know was that she felt the same way. There was a connection between the two of them—as if they'd known each other forever. She'd never felt so comfortable with a man except for one of her own brothers. "I wish I knew," Tatiana admitted. "But it's true, we've only known each other for a week, and yet it seems like..."

"Yes," the word was little more than a whisper on his lips—and the world paused.

"Here now, Vallentyn, you've had enough time with Miss Ashurst. Time you shared her with the rest of us," one of the pushier dandies called out, breaking the spell under which Tatiana had fallen. With a rush, the room and all of the noise surrounding her exploded onto her senses.

When had the room become so loud and the men so boisterous? Tatiana blinked and looked around. There must have been thirty men in the room—all chatting, laughing, and every now and then attempting to catch Trina's attention. She could feel her grandmother's gaze boring into her as well, but she shrugged it off. There was no help for it.

"I think now would be the time, Tatiana," Trina said while her eyes darted around the room.

Tatiana nodded. "You're certain?" she asked, giving her sister the opportunity to back out—it was now or never.

Trina frowned. She stared hard at Tatiana, clearly thinking this through, which Tatiana appreciated.

Another gentleman came up and insinuated himself in between the two sisters. "Miss Ashurst, it is an honor to see you again, my dear." He took her hand and placed a very long, slow kiss onto the back of it. "May I just say how absolutely stunning you look today. You are always dressed to the height of fashion. There is nothing so rewarding as seeing a woman as lovely and well-dressed as you, I must say."

Trina took her hand back from the gentleman who still held on to it as if he had a right to claim it as his own. "Thank you, sir. That is very kind. I was speaking with my sister, however."

"Yes, yes," he said, waving off Tatiana as if she were an annoying insect. "But you can do that any time. Now _I_..."

Trina didn't wait to see what he had to say for himself. She neatly stepped around him. Looking meaningfully at Tatiana she said, "We'll deal with Grandmama together when the time comes. For now..."

"Absolutely!" Tatiana couldn't agree faster. Focusing herself inward for a moment, she reached out with her mind to Thomas, her grandmother's footman, who had been warned to prepare for her call.

_Now_.

# Chapter Ten

Within a minute, Thomas was at the door a letter in his hand. "Miss Ashurst, Miss Tatiana?" he asked, looking desperately around for the two sisters. He was a talented actor, Tatiana noted; she really must mention this to her grandmother—the man deserved a raise.

Trina looked over in mock surprise, but it was their grandmother who answered. "What is it, Thomas? Can't you see that we're busy?"

"I apologize, my lady, but a most urgent message has just come from their father," he answered her from across the room, to be sure that everyone heard him.

It looked as if her grandmother was about to stand up. Before she could do so, however, Tatiana said, "I'll see to it, Trina. You go on with what you're doing." She made her way over to the door as quickly as she could, taking the missive from Thomas with a tiny wink of thanks.

She opened the letter, skimmed it for what she knew would be inside and then let out a shriek of shock and dismay, feigned well enough to fool the idiots in the room.

"Oh, no! Oh! Excuse me," she added more quietly, looking around her as if she'd just remembered that she was surrounded by company.

"What is it, Tatiana?" Trina asked from across the room.

"Tatiana?" her grandmother echoed Trina.

"The ship carrying the goods Papa invested in to fund your marriage portion has sunk! It's gone, Trina! You're dowry! It's _gone_!" Tatiana dropped her face into her hands and pretended to cry. She chomped down hard on the inside of her mouth, hard enough to truly bring tears to her eyes.

"No! It can't be so!" Trina nearly screamed.

Gasps could be heard all around the room. Tatiana was certain it was her sister she heard attempting to make her way over toward the door where she stood.

Someone snatched the letter from her fingers.

Tatiana looked up to see Trina give a squeal of shock and then 'faint' right into the arms of one of the better-looking men.

Another man, completely ignoring the collapsed girl, took the letter from her limp fingers and read it himself. Tatiana almost shrieked with true anger at his gall at reading a personal letter. But she had deliberately had her grandmother's man of business write it to ensure that it looked and sounded authentic. She was glad now she'd been overly cautious.

"My God, it's true!" He turned to Trina, but she was still 'unconscious'—probably enjoying being held in the arms of a handsome man. So he turned instead to Tatiana. "I am most deeply sorry." And with that he shoved the letter back at her, bowed and left the room.

Tatiana was quickly surrounded by men making their leave.

"So sorry!"

"Most humble apologies."

"Lovely tea!"

The excuses came fast as men jostled her on their way out the door.

"No gentlemen, I'm certain there's been some sort of misunderstanding," Lady Ashurst called out. She put her hand on the arm of one man making for the exit.

"So sorry, my lady, er, urgent um... urgent meeting elsewhere. You understand. So lovely to see you again." He pulled his arm out of her grasp and joined the herd of departing men.

The glare from Tatiana's grandmother would have ignited her dress if the lady had been associated with fire. Tatiana deliberately kept her eyes anywhere but on her grandmother.

Within minutes, the room was nearly empty. Trina had 'recovered', but she'd clearly chosen her savior well, as he was one of the few men who hadn't left. Instead, he had gently lain her down on a sofa and sat on the floor by her side, gently waving a fan in front of her face to ensure her speedy "recovery".

"You are too good, Mr. Havelock," Trina said, her voice weak and frail. Tatiana thought she overdid it just a bit, but naturally couldn't say so.

"Poor, poor Trina," Tatiana said, taking her sister's hand and patting it gently.

"I have to disagree with you, Miss Tatiana," Mr. Havelock said. "In fact, I think that both your performance and Miss Ashurst's was brilliant."

Trina was so startled she bolted upright. "What?"

Mr. Havelock laughed as he folded away the fan. "There is only the six of us here now, Miss Ashurst. I'm sure Lord Bruntly and Mr. Vallentyn agree with me?" he asked, looking over at the other two gentlemen. Lord Bruntly calmly sat on the opposite sofa drinking his tea, and Mr. Vallentyn stood where Tatiana had left him—only now his hand covered his mouth. Tatiana was pretty sure tears of mirth glittered in his eyes.

Her grandmother now stood by the door looking ready to murder someone. Unfortunately, Tatiana knew very well who that someone was—herself. Thank goodness her grandmother was never impolite, especially with three gentlemen still present. Until they left, she could do nothing.

"Absolutely. Brilliant," Lord Bruntly confirmed. Mr. Vallentyn could only nod, as his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

"And I imagine, it got exactly the response you hoped it would. Only the gentlemen who are truly interested in pursuing Miss Ashurst for herself, and not her money, are still here," Mr. Havelock continued. "Bruntly is as rich as the king. I'm not too badly off myself, and well, Vallentyn, I have to admit I am rather surprised to see you still here."

Mr. Vallentyn pulled himself together and lowered his hand. "Oh, I'm not interested in marriage with Miss Ashurst. I do beg your pardon," he added, giving her a small bow.

"Not at all." Trina giggled.

"I must say, I'm intrigued by a lady who has had the temerity to attempt meaningful conversations during polite visiting hours." Mr. Havelock continued, giving Trina a warm smile.

Both Trina and Tatiana couldn't help but laugh at that.

" _Was_ it ridiculous of me?" Trina asked, completely 'recovered'.

The man nodded. "Ridiculous and absolutely adorable, if I may be so bold."

"Oh!" Trina took the fan from his hands and vigorously applied it to herself to cool down the blush that crept up her face. The smile she sent Tatiana from behind the fan was all a sister could ever wish for. Never had Trina looked so happy.

"Lord Bruntly, Mr. Vallentyn, would you care to take a turn about the room with me, now that it is empty of all those imbeciles?" Tatiana asked, heading over to the gentlemen in question. Lord Bruntly raised his eyebrows but acquiesced, standing up to take Tatiana's proffered arm, while Mr. Vallentyn happily took her other. "Grandmama, will you join us?"

It was clear that Trina and Mr. Havelock needed a few minutes of 'privacy', while Tatiana suddenly found that she had a good deal of excited energy she needed to work off.

Lord Bruntly was good enough to take her grandmother's arm as the four of them set off toward the far end of the room.

"I presume the letter was a ruse," Kit began, after cursing his luck that he was once again in the position where he should, if he only had the temerity, ask Tatiana about her prospects. That he hadn't been able to ask her outright still gnawed at him—that and his father's threats, which still rang in his ears. If he could discover if Tatiana would, in fact, have a dowry, perhaps his father would soften his stance despite her family's lack of political connections.

Tatiana shrugged. "It seemed like the only way to find out who was truly interested in Trina and not just her marriage portion." The smile she turned on him would have had the strongest of men drop to their knees. "It worked amazingly well, don't you think?"

Kit managed to keep to his feet, and even kept them moving forward, only just barely.

"Indeed."

His conscience pricked at the mention of men only interested in marrying for money. But it wasn't he who demanded it—it was his father. He was attracted to Tatiana with or without money. Very attracted.

He'd held Tatiana's gaze for perhaps a little too long, he realized, when Lord Bruntly coughed politely. "Seems to me to have worked primarily in Havelock's favor," Bruntly said, not sounding as disgruntled as one might expect.

"I do apologize, my lord," Tatiana said quickly. "If you would prefer to sit with my sister, I'm certain neither I nor my grandmother would be offended in the least."

The fellow looked over at Miss Ashurst and Mr. Havelock. They shared the sofa and sat a bit closer than strictly proper. "Ah no, I believe I know when to bow out gracefully."

"Oh, sir..." Tatiana began, clearly a little upset.

He patted her hand as it rested on his arm, however. "No, my dear. No need to fret. It is perfectly all right with me. I think she's got the better man there with her."

"Oh, sir," Tatiana said again, this time as an apology.

"So, Vallentyn, you swimming in other waters?" Lord Bruntly said, dipping his eyes down meaningfully to Tatiana.

"Too soon to tell," Kit answered honestly, with a quick glance at Lady Ashurst. "Well, I am happy to hear that all is not lost for your sister and her dowry—for Havelock's sake, at least," he said, changing the subject back to where he needed it.

Tatiana laughed. "Oh no, there is no ship, Mr. Vallentyn. Trina's marriage portion is perfectly intact."

"And will yours be as well?" he slipped in as gently as possible.

Tatiana looked over at her grandmother. "I have none," she said quietly.

"None?" Lord Bruntly exclaimed. "Are you parents doing nothing for you, then?"

A very slight shake of her head was the entirety of her answer.

"Her parents will find a husband for her," her grandmother answered. It was the same answer she had given every other overly curious person, and delivered in exactly the same way, so as not to encourage follow-up questions.

Lord Bruntly, however, seemed oblivious to his companion's tone. "Well! How odd," the gentleman commented.

Tatiana's gaze slipped to the floor so that Kit couldn't see into her eyes. "Any arrangements deemed necessary will happen after they have chosen the appropriate gentleman."

"So they haven't chosen anyone as yet?" Kit asked, perhaps a little too quickly. Lady Ashurst turned her head so that he could see her severe look of disapproval. She clearly was working with the parents. She probably wanted him to court Miss Tatiana about as much as his own father did—i.e., not at all.

"No. Not as far as I know," Tatiana said. Was that perhaps a spark of hope in her eyes, Kit wondered?

Why should he hold out for an impossible hope, he scolded himself. Was there really any chance for him? Yes, he had to have faith.

He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. If no one had been chosen, and her parents were perfectly capable of bestowing a generous portion on the elder twin, then there was the possibility they would do the same with the younger. Yes, there most definitely was cause for hope, indeed!

# Chapter Eleven

"Tatiana! He did it!" Trina burst into the basement stillroom, sending the scents of dried flowers hanging from the rafters swirling around the room.

Tatiana nearly spilled the tincture of peppermint she slowly added to her potion.

She'd been confined to the house for the rest of her stay in London as punishment for the little trick she had pulled during the at-home—and received a lecture from her grandmother that had lasted no less than half an hour. Trina hadn't received any punishment, beyond the lecture, since it was her duty to find a husband and therefore needed to be seen in public.

Tatiana put down the delicate glass vial on the scarred wooden table, and then looked up at her sister. "Who did what?"

"Mr. Havelock. He proposed! And I said yes," Trina squeaked. She gripped her hands in front of her chest, as if in fervent prayer. What was she praying for? Her approval?

If so, then she most certainly had it. Happiness exploded within Tatiana, although reason soon followed. "That is, well, it's amazing!"

"I know!"

"Fast."

"I know!"

"Unexpected."

"Yes!" Trina exclaimed. Her eyes shone with a happiness Tatiana had never seen before. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked... she looked beautiful. Yes, some of the magical beauty Tatiana had given her just before that first ball still lingered. It had begun to fade, but now in its place was a true beauty. Could it be love, Tatiana wondered?

"I am so happy for you, Trina. Was that who knocked just a little while ago?"

"Yes. He came and spoke with Grandmama for a little bit—Thomas told me he was here—and then I was summoned to the drawing room. Grandmama allowed us to be alone, so I knew that this would be something important.

"He was so romantic, he did everything just right," her sister finished on a sigh.

"That's wonderful!" Tatiana pulled her sister into a tight hug. "He seems to be a very good man."

"And he appreciates that I think about things," her sister gushed.

"Yes? He is Vallen, isn't he? Is he powerful? Or not so much?" Tatiana asked, not that it made any difference whatsoever.

"He is. He has a way with numbers that is quite astounding. It's where he's made his money." Trina stopped and looked appalled. "I hope Papa doesn't mind. His cousin is a marquess, but he, himself, has no title."

Tatiana smiled at her sister's silly worries. "If he's a member of society, then I think there can be no question that Papa will approve. And Grandmama has done so already, so it should be fine."

Trina gave a laughing sigh of relief. "Yes. It's going to be all right."

And now her parents would be able to find a husband for her, Tatiana thought with a shiver.

"Cecelia has outdone herself," Lady Ashurst said, looking about Lady Southburn's salon at the crush of people. "She has always been able to coax anyone into attending her parties, but this is just..." her words petered out in a wave of awe.

After Mr. Havelock had proposed to Trina, Tatiana had finally been released from her punishment, but not without yet another lecture.

"Who is here?" Trina asked, eagerly looking from face to face as if she expected to recognize anyone.

"Who is here?" her astounded fiancé asked. "Who isn't here?"

"I take it, Trina, that all of the most influential members of society are here," Tatiana said, attempting to answer her sister despite her own ignorance.

"Not only members of society," Mr. Havelock said, "but members of Parliament, and I heard the prince might even to attend."

"The prince?" Trina squeaked. "Attend our engagement party? But why?"

"Because Lady Southburn asked him," Tatiana shrugged.

"And she did this in three days," their grandmother said, still in awe.

"It is truly amazing," Tatiana agreed. She was not only astounded by the speed at which her grandmother's close friend had arranged this "little get together" (as Lady Southburn had called it), but that she'd managed it so that Tatiana could attend before she was forced to return home.

It was quite a way to end her much too brief stay in London. Spots of pain momentarily danced before her eyes.

"I wonder what the surprise is going be," Trina said.

"Surprise?" Tatiana asked as she turned to her sister, who still looked about the room. Tatiana was grateful to Trina for changing the direction of her thoughts.

"Yes, she said there would be a surprise a little later on. I wonder what it could be."

Tatiana looked to her grandmother. She knew the secret. The smile on her face told Tatiana so. "What is it, Grandmama?"

Lady Ashurst opened her eyes wide. "Why do you ask me?" she said, feigning ignorance.

"Do you know?" Trina finally turned to look directly at their grandmother.

Lady Ashurst just shrugged.

"Of course she knows. But she won't tell us," Tatiana said, a little annoyed. She wasn't sure she liked surprises. The last one had been her parents' announcement that Trina would go to London to make her curtsey to society—and Tatiana would not.

And with that disturbing thought, another appeared at her elbow.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Mr. Vallentyn said bowing to them. "Haveland," he nodded to the gentleman.

"Vallentyn, good to see you," Mr. Haveland reached out his hand.

Mr. Vallentyn may have clasped hands with him, but his eyes remained firmly on Tatiana. She could feel his gaze burning into her even though she deliberately did not look at him. It wasn't easy.

"My congratulations, Haveland. You're a very lucky man," Mr. Vallentyn said, finally turning away from Tatiana. She snuck a peek. He was handsome as ever in a dark blue coat with a stunning waistcoat of blue with blue and silver embroidery.

"Thank you. I am well aware of it."

"I think I'll get some lemonade," Tatiana said, and moved away from the group as her grandmother gave an approving nod.

She needed to get away from Mr. Vallentyn. She'd sworn to get him out of her mind and to stay away from him. She was certain that, despite the fact that her sister was now engaged, she still needed to be diligent about keeping away from the man. Quite possibly she needed to be even more so, now that her parents would begin the task of finding an appropriate husband for her.

But Tatiana knew that her heart would not be safe until she stopped seeing Mr. Vallentyn every time she turned around. For that reason alone, she almost looked forward to going home.

She couldn't have him, so she didn't want to think about him.

"Let me." Mr. Vallentyn's hand reached in front of her, gently making a path for her between two people who stood back-to-back, each engaged in conversations with other groups. "Pardon us," he said to one, as the lady turned to see who needed to get by.

The woman moved and Tatiana slipped past. Clearly, her grandmother had failed to keep him from following her as well. He was nothing if not persistent!

Tatiana felt hot and hemmed. She wanted nothing more than to sprint through the room to get to the refreshments, but she could move no faster than a crawl in the packed room. Mr. Vallentyn eased the way for her—but that didn't help, since it was from him she was trying to escape.

A wide-open space miraculously opened up in front of her. She took advantage of it and dashed forward.

# Chapter Twelve

"The refreshments are this way," Mr. Vallentyn said, indicating for her to go to the right. But with the light and air coming from the left, she went in that direction instead.

"Miss Tatiana?" he called, coming after her.

In front of her, the doors to the garden appeared. They had been thrown open to allow fresh air into the overcrowded room. She paused before stepping outside. She wasn't sure she should go without an escort.

"Is there something wrong?" Mr. Vallentyn asked, coming up next to her.

She refused to look at him. She couldn't. She would be lost in his eyes if she did. It would be too painful.

"No, why do you ask?" she answered, keeping her gaze firmly on the garden.

"You seem to be running away from me. Or is it just my imagination?"

What could she say? It was the truth. So she said nothing.

"Have I done something wrong? Said something that hurt you? Not said something I should have--"

"No!" she said, cutting him off. She couldn't help it; she turned to look at him. His eyes were full of concern, his golden eyebrows drawn down. It wasn't right. Now she had hurt him.

He took her hands in his own. "Then what is it?"

Unable to speak, she just shook her head and turned to look back out at the garden. His hands, still holding hers, sent little sparks of heat running through her. Why did he feel so good? It wasn't fair.

"Tatiana," his voice slid over her skin like velvet. She fought hard not to envelop herself within its delicious warmth. For the first time, he had used just her name without the polite 'Miss' before it.

Her eyes stung. She realized she had stopped blinking from staring so hard, trying not to look at him.

"Let's go for a walk." He let go of one hand and tucked the other into the crook of his arm, leading her outside.

She shouldn't. She mustn't. But she couldn't stop herself.

Kit searched his mind for something he'd done wrong, but couldn't think of anything. Could it have something to do with her sister's engagement? Was she worried about her own circumstance?

He led her down the path and amongst the trees, finally stopping far enough away from the house so the noise from the party was just a murmur in the background. As they moved around to the far side of a tree, Tatiana turned around and leaned back against the trunk. She looked up at him with such sadness in her eyes that his muscles tightened ready to attack the one who had made her this way—only it was he who had done it. He just didn't understand how.

He stepped closer to her. Running a finger down the soft skin of her cheek, he forced her to look up at him. "Now tell me," he insisted.

She shook her head, but the words came out anyway. "I'll be going home tomorrow."

Her words cut into his heart.

Immediately, his mind spun to her parents. Would they consider his suit if he applied to them? They _had_ to. He knew now with an absolute certainty what he'd been toying with for the past two weeks—he loved her. He could not accept spending the rest of his life without her. No matter what it cost him. If his father disinherited him for loving Tatiana, then so be it.

Looking at her, he knew words couldn't come close to conveying his feelings. He leaned down and gently feathered his lips against hers to show her instead. But it wasn't enough, not when she responded so deliciously, reaching up to meet him.

Sparks flew through his mind and his body. All thought ceased. Joy, completeness and need drove everything else from his mind.

But she was so sweet, so innocent. He didn't want to scare her with his ardor. He forced himself to back off. His body screamed for him not to—nearly to the point of pain. But he took himself in control and pulled back to look down at the woman he loved.

She wasn't there.

There was another woman in her place. Beautiful, glowing, powerful. Her hair was a rich, luxuriant brown, her cheeks and lips full and pink, her huge eyes an unfathomable black that left him nearly gasping in their depths. Kit blinked. "Tatiana?"

The word was hardly out of his mouth when he heard a gasp. Lady Southburn was standing only a few feet away with her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and knowledge that she had a story to tell.

"Lady Southburn!" The words tore from his lips.

"Oh, my!" the lady said, gasping again.

"You may be the first to congratulate me. Miss Tatiana has just consented to become my wife," he said, turning back to Tatiana. He almost choked. The demure young lady he'd known for the past two weeks returned. The other person, that striking woman who'd been there just a moment ago, was gone.

Magic! He nearly trembled with shock. She'd done this. She'd masked herself from him, from the world. How could she do that? How could she hold on to her magic for hours at a time? Days perhaps? And it wasn't just her looks that she'd masked; it was her power as well. He had felt it when he'd looked into her eyes after their kiss.

But now, it was gone. She was once again the same rather dull-looking young woman she had been. Incredible.

"Oh! Oh, how wonderful!" Lady Southburn said, pulling Kit's mind back to the present. "Indeed, congratulations, Miss Tatiana. How very happy you must be to have made such an excellent match."

"A little too opportune, if you ask me," his father said from behind Lady Southburn.

"Father! Uh no, not exactly opportune... except, of course, for the opportunity. That was quite unexpected," He turned back to her, looking deeply into her eyes as if truly seeing her for the first time, "and wonderful," Mr. Vallentyn said.

Tatiana turned to look at him. It was the first time she'd ever heard him sound awkward. Tatiana, herself, was still reeling from his kiss, then his shocking announcement to Lady Southburn. What would her parents say when she had no right to accept a marriage proposal? Now Lord Durrington had joined them as well?

She gripped the tree behind her for support. She knew Mr. Vallentyn had seen her, the real her, when he'd pulled back from their kiss. She couldn't have helped it—she completely lost control of her magic when he kissed her. It felt so good that she'd melted in his arms, her mind going completely blank. And she supposed she just let go of her magic.

Odd, but she'd never lost control of her magic before. On the other hand, she'd never been kissed like that before either. She didn't know if it was the kiss, or something to do with Mr. Vallentyn.

She was sure she'd shocked the poor man, but he'd recovered with amazing speed with Lady Southburn. His father's presence, however, especially right after so many other shocks, was clearly more than he could manage.

Still, Mr. Vallentyn quickly caught himself. He cleared his throat and gave both his father and Lady Southburn a smile as he pulled himself back together. "You know, this is something I have thought about for some time, Father. Although I must admit, I did take advantage of this beautiful setting and the romance of the day to ask for Miss Tatiana's hand. I do hope you will pardon me for doing so, my lady?"

Tatiana suspected he had infused a touch of magic into his words, for Lady Southburn was immediately charmed--smiling and nearly giggling. "Oh, but of course, Mr. Vallentyn. They _are_ lovely gardens, and you are not the first to take advantage of them for such a purpose."

Mr. Vallentyn gave his father a nervous look, and then turned back to Lady Southburn with one of his most endearing smiles. "You are too kind. Without a doubt, this is going to be the most talked about party of the season."

"Oh my, yes!" she cooed. "Well, I must see to my guests. I do hope you will excuse me." She gave a quick nod to them all, and then scampered back to the house. There was no doubt in Tatiana's mind that Mr. Vallentyn had orchestrated that reaction with his magic.

# Chapter Thirteen

"Well done, Christopher," his father snarled. "At least you got _that_ right, sending that old gossip off. Although you know exactly what she'll do—spread word of this sham engagement throughout the ton."

"It is not..." Mr. Vallentyn began.

"Not a sham?" his father interrupted. "No? Do you actually mean to marry this conniving girl? Will you give up your inheritance? Your place in the world? Your place in our family? For all of that will be gone. You will have _nothing_. You just say the word."

Tatiana was horrified by Lord Durrington's words. But turning back to Mr. Vallentyn, she became _truly_ furious

His beautiful waistcoat was in tatters and blood seeped from the gouges his father's words had cut into his chest.

"How dare you!" she hissed as she spun back to Lord Durrington, her fury overriding everything else in her mind.

"Tatiana," Mr. Vallentyn's warning barely registered in her mind.

"How dare _I_?" Lord Durrington spat back. "How dare _you_? You have used your wiles to tear my son away from his family. You have no understanding of..."

"Father! Enough!" Mr. Vallentyn said, stepping in front of Tatiana to shield her from his father's harsh words. She began to feel them cut into her own body. Mr. Vallentyn's voice vibrated with powerful magic. "You don't know..."

"Oh, I know perfectly well," his father retorted, slashing away Mr. Vallentyn's words. He turned back to Tatiana. "You little..."

"Not another word," Tatiana warned him. Her voice was dangerously quiet as she stepped forward next to Mr. Vallentyn and fury burned like lava through her veins. She managed to rein in most of her anger, but did allow some of her magic to seep through effectively cutting off Lord Durrington's voice. Even if he wanted to say more, he would not be able to.

Of course he tried, but all he could do was open and close his mouth like a fish. His face burned red with the effort.

"Tatiana, that is not the answer," Mr. Vallentyn said. He gave a wave of his hand and his father stumbled forward.

"...of duty, of family pride," Lord Durrington continued as if he'd been speaking all along.

Tatiana trembled in her rage. Unlike the evening of the ball, there was no ceiling to impede her magic. A bolt of lightning hit the ground less than a foot away from Lord Durrington.

He jumped. "And intimidating me with magic won't change my mind."

"Tatiana, stop." Mr. Vallentyn's words were quiet and gentle, seeping into her mind.

A ground-shuddering roll of thunder followed the lightning before another bolt hit on Lord Durrington's other side.

"I know nothing of duty?" she asked, her voice deadly quiet.

"You would take my son," Lord Durrington started, oblivious to the danger he faced.

"Tatiana, stop now!" The command in Mr. Vallentyn's voice was stronger this time. Not only did it slither into her mind, but also grabbed a hold of her magic and cut off the next bolt of lightning that was about to come even closer to Lord Durrington.

She spun to look at Mr. Vallentyn, her fury directed now at him. "Don't you dare stop..."

"You cannot kill my father," Mr. Vallentyn said, lacing his words with such strong magic that Tatiana wasn't sure she could break through them. Her confidence wavered.

"And clearly with you here, she wouldn't be able to, would she?" a new voice said, coming from the direction of the house.

Startled, they all turned to face the newcomer.

"Mother!" The word popped out of Tatiana's mouth. Her fury was gone, blown away in her astonishment.

"I believe the word your grandmother wished me to say was 'surprise!'" Her mother turned toward Mr. Vallentyn and said, "Bravo to you, sir," as she joined them beneath the trees.

"I assume that you are Mr. Vallentyn, the man Lady Southburn has been so pleased to tell everyone is now engaged to my daughter?"

Tatiana wasn't sure, but it seemed as if Mr. Vallentyn was trembling as he bowed in acknowledgement. "May I present my father, Lord Durrington?" he asked.

The man in question still scowled, but seemed less sure of himself than he had a moment ago. Had he noticed Mr. Vallentyn's nervousness or could he sense her mother's power? She wasn't trying to mask it the way Tatiana had done for the past two weeks. It was more than evident that someone extremely powerful was nearby—at least to Tatiana.

"I assume, my lady, that you are here to inform your daughter that you will not stand for this ridiculous proposal?" Lord Durrington asked.

Tatiana's mother turned to him, taking a moment to size him up. She raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms across her body. "I admit that I had come out here to do exactly that. But now that I've seen what your son is capable of, I believe I've changed my mind."

She turned back to Mr. Vallentyn. "You will do very nicely. Well done, Tatiana."

"You cannot be serious!" Lord Durrington exploded.

Lady Ashurst turned back to the man, giving him a look that made him take a step away from her. "I am always serious."

"Mother? You approve of my marrying Mr. Vallentyn?" Tatiana asked just to make absolutely sure she understood.

"I did just say so, did I not, child?" her mother asked. "You are an extremely lucky man, Mr. Vallentyn, you do realize this? It is quite a responsibility you are taking on here."

"The responsibility is mine, Mother," Tatiana protested, "not his."

"What responsibility, ma'am? There is something very important I'm missing here," Mr. Vallentyn interrupted.

"What are you two going on about?" Lord Durrington echoed his son, looking from Tatiana to her mother and back again.

Lady Ashurst studied Tatiana. "I can see you've hidden yourself well, child. So I assume you've not told either of them."

"Told us what?" Lord Durrington asked again.

Tatiana let her magic fall away. "No. I haven't..." She could hear Lord Durrington gasp, but Mr. Vallentyn seemed to be expecting it.

Her mother tsked. "Really, Tatiana, you cannot agree to marry someone without informing them of what they'd be getting themselves into. That's not right."

"But I didn't think you would actually allow us to marry. You said that you must choose my husband," Tatiana argued.

"Excuse me," Lord Durrington broke in again, his voice cracking now with nervousness.

Mr. Vallentyn also looked expectantly between Tatiana and her mother.

Tatiana stayed quiet to allow her mother do the explaining. Lady Ashurst just shook her head before she turned to the two men.

"Tatiana is of the sixth generation. Her seventh child will be _the_ Seventh. That is quite a responsibility for both her and the child's father."

"The seventh _what_?" Lord Durrington asked.

"You don't mean..." Mr. Vallentyn started, but his words petered out. He was beginning to understand, Tatiana was certain. He was an intelligent man.

"What do you mean the seventh, what?" Lady Ashurst snapped at Lord Durrington, clearly now thinking him an imbecile.

"He doesn't know, Mother." Tatiana said. She turned to Mr. Vallentyn. "But you know now, don't you?"

"I have an idea, but it may be entirely wrong," he said. Tatiana wished she could have wiped his forehead clean of the worry lines criss-crossing it.

"What? What is it?" Lord Durrington was perhaps beginning to lose his patience.

Tatiana took pity on him. "My mother is the High Priestess of all Vallen. Upon my twenty-first birthday, I will take her position. I will be the sixth to do so since the last Seventh. According to the prophecy, my seventh child will not only become the High Priestess, but also the Seventh—the one destined to be the most powerful Vallen in centuries."

"The one who gives all Vallen back the powers that we have lost over so many generations?" Lord Durrington's voice squeaked.

"Yes," Tatiana nodded. She turned back to Mr. Vallentyn with a little smile. "I've even decided what I will name her, my seventh child. She'll be Morgan, after my great ancestor, Morgan le Fey."

Mr. Vallentyn's face had lost all of its color. Tatiana watched with growing worry as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down in his throat and he struggled to speak. Finally, he came out with it.

"I'm so sorry, Tatiana." He shook his head, his eyes sad. "I cannot marry you. I cannot be the father of your Morgan." His words were little more than a whisper, but they echoed in Tatiana's ears as if he'd shouted them.

"But she has chosen you!" her mother protested. "And even more importantly, _I_ have chosen you."

He looked over at her, still shaking his head. "I must beg your indulgence, my lady, but I cannot."

"Christopher, don't be an idiot!" his father growled.

"No. I'm not, I'm..." he started.

"May I have a word?" Tatiana interrupted him. He could not do this to her. He could not turn his back on her just because of who she was. Why did this hurt even more than when Lord Durrington's words had cut into her earlier?

She walked to the other side of the copse of trees, hoping Mr. Vallentyn followed her. She was relieved when she turned and found him right next to her.

"I'm sorry, Tatiana. If I had known..."

"If you had known, would you have spent so much time with me?" she asked as she looked up at him, willing her eyes to stay dry.

"No," he whispered. "Yes!" he said, quickly changing his answer.

Tatiana shook her head, confused.

Mr. Vallentyn seemed to be equally confused. He dropped his head down into his hands. "I don't know."

She waited for him to figure it out. To explain himself to her.

Finally, he looked up. "I do not regret a moment I've spent with you. I've thoroughly enjoyed talking with you, being with you. I truly thought I could easily spend the rest of my life with you. But I cannot marry the High Priestess. I can't be the father of the Seventh."

"I don't understand. Why not? Is it the responsibility? As I said to my mother..."

"No, it's not the responsibility. It's... it's that I'm not worthy." He paused and held up his hand before she could say anything. "Tatiana, I'm a farmer. It's all that I want to be. Well, that and perhaps a local magistrate. But I don't want to go into politics. I don't want to take my seat in Parliament. I don't want to be..."

"You are more than worthy!" she said, interrupting him. She just couldn't allow him to berate himself. "You stopped me, Mr. Vallentyn! You stopped me from using my magic. You're extremely powerful."

He shook his head. "Power has nothing to do with it. Or, maybe for you it does, but for me... don't you understand? I want to live an ordinary life."

Tatiana could feel the tear escape from the corner of her eye. "Yes! I want... I will need as ordinary a life as I can get. As the High Priestess, I will be pulled this way and that by my duties. To know that you're there, at home, being ordinary... Being a farmer or whatever else it is that you want to do... that's what I want. That's what I'll need. But even more than that..." she paused, wondering if she could be so bold and forthright. But then she remembered that he valued plain speaking.

She took a deep breath, looking deeply into his eyes so that he could feel her honesty and not just hear it. "You are the joy in my life. You are my happiness. Without you, my life would be nothing but duty and responsibility. I need you and your ordinary life." She swallowed again. "I love you, Christopher."

The wrinkles on his brow smoothed, as if the storm clouds in his mind had rolled away. A small smile lit up one side of his mouth. "Kit."

"What?"

"My father calls me Christopher when he's angry, but I prefer to be called Kit."

Tatiana laughed. She couldn't help it. She worried that her entire life would be spent thinking about what might have been because she hadn't told him the truth earlier—and his response was that he wanted her to call him by his nickname!

"I love you, Tatiana," he said. To ensure that she knew he truly meant it, he said it not just with his words and his voice but with his eyes and his heart as well.

"I love you, Kit," she answered, as the warmth of his love seeped into her very being, warming her even in the chill evening air.

"And we'll create this Morgan of yours?" he asked, a twinkle of laughter in his eyes.

Tatiana could feel her face heat at the thought of having a child with him. "Six more before her, though," she agreed.

Kit's laughter moved from his eyes, replaced by something that made Tatiana feel even warmer.

"Well then, we shall busy, won't we? Perhaps it would be best if we married quickly."

<<<<>>>>

If you enjoyed this book, please write a review and recommend it to a friend.

To follow Tatiana and Kit's story read on for a sneak peak at the next book in the series, _Bridging the Storm_

Can a twenty year-old woman make life worth living for a man nearly a thousand years old?

Kate Cherington is certainly trying her best. The handsome and amusing Sir Arthur Dagonet does exactly what Kate has always dreamed of doing—travel the world, exploring new lands. He also may be her only path away from an aunt determined to keep Kate from having a life of her own. Kate knows that her only hope for the adventure she craves is to escape with Sir Arthur.

Sir Arthur has already lived through several lifetimes, thanks to the gift of immortality from the great Merlin. After centuries of adventure, he's eager to rid himself of this gift, and to finally die. But meeting the brave and beautiful Kate brings back memories of his happy exploits with the Children of Avalon, the first of the magical Vallen. Though he decides he really doesn't want to get distracted from his goal, he is bound by a promise to help, Tatiana Vallentyn, the current high priestess of the Vallen.

From the mists of legend to the estates of the Regency, Kate and Sir Arthur tussle with a force unanticipated by either, and stronger than any desire for life or death—love.

# Chapter One

December 21, 1793

Arthur Dagonet spurred his horse faster. He would freeze solid at this pace, and honestly, he couldn't get this whole business done with fast enough.

Oh, but his old bones ached. His whole body trembled with the cold as he galloped across a bare countryside soaked in the pale gray shadows of moonlight.

Why hadn't he taken a carriage? He could have been warm and snug inside with a hot brick at his feet and a blanket thrown over his shivering old legs. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing his imagination to take him there. He could almost feel the warmth... but no, he'd opted for speed instead. At his age, every bump on the horse's back rattled his frail, frozen frame.

Thank goodness it wouldn't be much longer. He hated being old almost as much as he hated this infernal cycle of life in which he was trapped.

The standing stones appeared in the distance, beckoning to him. As always, they stood waiting to welcome him home.

It was a bittersweet homecoming. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to do this. Until he found a way out, however, he would be forced to return again and again. Perhaps on his next trip he would find the way out. Perhaps.

His horse, as cold and tired as he, slipped back into a reluctant trot. The sooner they got there, the sooner they could return to the inn they'd passed on their way. Then, and only then, would both of them be able to rest and get warm.

Pain shot through his hip and up his back as he eased himself off the animal just outside the outer circle of stones. They had stood here longer than anyone knew; so long that no one even remembered why they had been erected, only that it was a deeply magical place. One could feel the magic circulating through the old stones—especially on this night of the solstice.

His aches sharply reminded him of just how long it had been since he'd ridden a horse. Four months aboard ship sailing from New South Wales, and months before that sailing around the southern coastline of the continent, down around Tasmania, before returning to the mainland.

Exploring, mapping, discovering new lands and new people—it was exciting work, but it felt good to be back in England. Good to be back on solid ground. Cold, but good. Crossing the equator, he'd lost the summer. The warmth of spring had just crept into Botany Bay when he'd left, and now deepest winter was well settled into the English countryside.

Blood slowed in old veins keeping an old man cold, but it wouldn't be for long. No, it wouldn't be for long.

Dagonet approached the stones, feeling their warm embrace as he entered the familiar inner circle. He paused for a moment, leaning against a toppled stone and trying not to shiver. For just a moment, he closed his tired eyes and relaxed. The freezing air bit into his nostrils, but he was grateful for the freshness of it. The salty tang of the sea air had been cloying after a while. It made a man stronger to breathe in the clean air of the English countryside.

And yet, he couldn't wait to get back off this confining island, to continue on his quest. There were so many more places to explore, people to meet, leads to follow. He'd been to so many places in his life, but so far none of them had held the answer he was searching for. It had to be out there; he just had to locate it. He would take a few months to relax, find a new expedition and then set out in what seemed like his Sisyphean task.

He brought his mind back to the here and now, laughing at himself and his fancies. He pushed off from the stone and walked with waning strength to the center of the circle. Reaching into the worn leather bag on his shoulder, he pulled out his old water skin. This old thing had seen better days, but somehow—whether the result of its contents or the special care with which Dagonet had kept it—it had survived for hundreds of years. Nearly as long as he had, himself.

He raised it in silent salute to his old, dear friend. "To Merlin!" He took the tiniest of sips—for he had learned over the years that he only needed enough to just wet his lips—and then carefully stoppered the skin and put it away.

The change only took a moment. Truly miraculous, it would never cease to amaze him. Slowly from the top of his head, the prickle began. He could feel his head begin to sweat with the onslaught of the intense heat. Shivers followed the burning cold as it flowed down his body, removing the old and replacing it with the young.

The shivering eased, and his muscles relaxed. Dagonet rolled his head around his neck reveling in the easy flow of his now young self. All the aches and pains and cold—especially the cold—slipped away as the burning made its way down his body. Already he felt better. Warmer. More energetic. Ready to conquer the world—again!

He started to laugh, but the quietest of gasps, audible with his now young ears, had Dagonet spinning around. He reached for his sword—which hadn't sat at his hip for hundreds of years, and yet old habits never seemed to die—almost before the change was complete.

A woman stood half–hidden in the shadows, just inside the outer circle of stones. She had not been there before; Dagonet was certain of it. And yet, there she was, watching him. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"What is that potion that you just took?" she whispered just barely loud enough for him to hear.

"I don't know what you're talking about, wot?" His denial was immediate, said without thought.

"I saw you. You were old. Your hair was white, and you were nearly stooped with age," she said, approaching him. "And now..." she said, continuing toward him.

"It must have been a trick of the moonlight, madam. As you see, I am not old."

"No. You're not. You don't look to be above 25." She couldn't have been much more than ten years older than that herself. She was thin and lithe despite her thick, woolen coat. Slight curls of dark, perhaps black, hair peeked out from under her hat.

"So you see, it was your imagination. A trick of the moonlight," he offered.

"Do not toy with me. I know what I saw, and I want to know how you did it. Who are you, and who are you working with? How did you get so much power?"

There was no surer way to tease a knight's temper than to accuse him of lying. Dagonet held his peace and his patience, however, and instead reached out with his magic.

It told him that this woman felt she had every right to question him in this way. She was as unnerved by his display of magic as she was curious. She wasn't afraid, though. No, she understood magic. He didn't know how, but he knew that she did—which only spiked his own curiosity as to her identity. So he did the only thing he could to satisfy them both.

He made her his best courtly bow. "Sir Arthur Dagonet, at your service. And you are?"

Her eyes shifted away into the distance. "Sir Dagonet."

He raised his eyebrows and allowed a broad smile to cover his face. "What a coincidence! Two of us with the same name. But wouldn't you be Dame Dagonet? It wouldn't be Lady Dagonet."

"What?" Her attention shifted back to him, his words finally registering with her. "Oh!" Her shoulders came down a notch, and she smiled, even giving a little chuckle. "I am Lady Vallentyn. Tatiana Vallentyn."

For a moment the name meant nothing, but a niggling started in the back of his mind. He'd heard her name before. Where? He took a step back as he searched his memory. Vallentyn. Well, she had to be Vallen.

And then it hit him like a smack to the side of his head.

"You're the high priestess!"

She nodded regally.

"Been away for a few years, don't believe you'd been in the position long before I left, wot?"

"What?" She cocked her head.

"Said I've been away a few years..." he began to repeat himself but then stopped. Laughing a little, he said, "Thought I'd rid myself of that nasty little habit. Still hanging around, though. Sorry about that. Used to always add a 'wot, wot' to the end of everything I said. Finally got tired of repeating myself and tried to get rid of it. It slips out every now and again, I'm afraid."

"Oh!" She laughed.

"Well, then, you should know who I am," he said, hoping he wouldn't have to spell it out for her.

It was true that he'd given her his new Christian name, not the one given to him at birth. That one he'd shifted to the place of a family name when people began using them more commonly. Then, he'd taken on the name of his good friend and king and retitled himself Sir Arthur Dagonet — though, he wasn't entirely certain whether his knighthood was still in good standing. It had never been taken away, per se, but after nine hundred years, he just didn't know if he was still entitled to it. But he wouldn't give it up after all this time, unless he was explicitly told to do so.

Lady Vallentyn frowned in thought. Dagonet waited patiently while she figured things out, chuckling silently to himself as recognition slowly crossed over her face. "I've heard of that name... Sir Dagonet?" she said.

"Should have." He nodded, waiting for her to put things together in her mind.

"There was an old story about the knight who travelled with the Children of Avalon back in medieval times," she began, not hearing what he'd just said as she clearly tried to pull the memory forward.

"That's right," Dagonet said, nodding again.

Her gaze flew to his. "But he... no wait! The story tells of a potion given to Sir Dagonet that made him young again. The great Merlin gave it to him as thanks for seeing to the Children and helping them defeat the Lady Nimuë."

"Turned out to be more of a curse than a gift, but yes, that's the gist of it. So glad to hear the old tales aren't yet lost."

"But..." she looked from him to his satchel where he had stowed away his water skin. "It couldn't be true, could it? Are you truly _that_ Sir Dagonet?"

Dagonet bowed. "The very one."

The lady gasped. "But that would mean you are..."

"Rather old, yes, yes. In years, if not in looks, er, at the moment." He forced out a laugh, afraid she might otherwise sense the lump in his throat, the heaviness in his chest, the exhaustion of having lived for much too long. "Over nine hundred years, closer to a thousand, actually," he admitted. He didn't ever think about his age. It disturbed him. "Don't know the exact year I was born, but I'd been close on two hundred when I met the Children, Bridget, Scai and Dylan."

"And you're still alive." she breathed in amazement. "And, and young! Just as the stories say you would be."

"Quite a potion Merlin gave me, don't you know?" He winked.

"You still have it? You're still taking it? And it still works?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"As you see," he said, his arms held out as if to show her his young self. It was much better than his old self. He did hate being old. On the other hand, if he actually died of old age, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad to live with. It's just that he didn't. Ever.

And he'd had to deal with being old for nearly 200 years while waiting for the Children to arrive. It was better—easier—to be young. "I usually take the potion before getting to be quite so old, but as I said, I've been away."

"And you must be here, at Stonehenge, to take the potion?"

"Yes. Here, on the night of the winter solstice. Only works the one night a year."

"It's amazing that it still works after all this time," she said, shaking her head in wonder.

"Yes, indeed. And now, if you don't mind my asking, what is the high priestess of the Vallen doing out at midnight? Not here on any "official" business, are you?"

"No. I am on my way home from attending to some, however. This was on my way so I thought I'd stop..."

He waited a moment for her to finish her sentence. When she didn't seem inclined to, he asked, "You travel through the night to get home?"

"Yes. I have a family there who need me. It is difficult enough to travel across the country at a moment's notice, so I try to return as quickly as possible."

Her eyes shifted away. She was hiding something. She didn't just stop here on a whim.

Dagonet reached out again with his magic, but he couldn't discern the reason. "And..." he prompted gently.

Her eyes turned back to him. She raised her eyebrows. "And?"

"And the other reason you stopped here this evening?" he asked with an encouraging smile.

She lifted her chin a notch, but swallowed audibly. "I wished to soak in the magic," she admitted. "I carry the Seventh, and I wish for her to be as powerful as possible. It's silly, really. I know you can't absorb magic like it was sunlight, but still..."

Dagonet gave a little chuckle. "Wouldn't it be nice if you could."

"Well, but then we wouldn't need a Seventh, would we?" she asked, giving him a weak smile.

"No. I don't suppose we would. Well, then, I shall leave you to your, er, soaking. My own task here is done." He gave her a small bow and turned to leave. The cold no longer bothered him as much—young blood flowed so much more swiftly—but he didn't wish to keep his horse standing in the cold for any longer than necessary.

"Where do you stay?" she blurted out, stopping him.

He turned part way around. "At my estate, why do you ask?"

"Oh, no. Nothing. I just wondered, that's all. You have an estate, naturally." She seemed a little nervous.

"Yes. Near Trecastle, in Wales."

"Oh! Is it your ancestral home?" she asked, taking a step toward him.

He gave her a smile. "No. That has long since disappeared. Actually, it's very close to where I met Scai for the first time."

"Oh," she sighed. Before she could ask him anything further, he gave her another quick, little bow and strode off to his horse.

He had no desire to go tripping down memory lane with Lady Vallentyn, or anyone for that matter. It was odd, but even after nearly 800 years he still missed those children.

### About the Author

Meredith Bond is an award–winning author of a series of traditionally published Regency romances and indie–published paranormal romances. Known for her characters "who slip readily into one's heart". Meredith's heart belongs to her husband and two children.

Merry loves connecting with readers. Come visit her at her website, or chat with her on Facebook or Twitter @merrybond. If you'd like to be one of the first to know of Meredith's new releases and get a free vignette four times a year sign up for Meredith's newsletter here.

Find out more about the Vallen by following this link—available only to those who have a copy of this book.

Join Meredith's newsletter email list and get a free copy of either The Merry Marquis, the first book in her Merry Men Quartet OR Air: Merlin's Chalice, the first book in the Children of Avalon romantic fantasy series.

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### Books by Meredith Bond

The Merry Men Quartet:(originally published by Zebra Books)

_An Exotic Heir_ (originally published as Love of My Life)

_A Merry Marquis_ (originally published as Miss Seton's Sonata. Look for it in 2014)

_A Rake's Reward_ (originally published as Wooing Miss Whatley. Look for it in 2014)

**A Dandy in Disguise** (originally published as Dame Fortune)

The Vallen Series:

_Storm on the Horizon_ , a historical paranormal novella

_Magic in the Storm_ , a Regency-set paranormal romance

The Children of Avalon Trilogy

Air: Merlin's Chalice

Water: The Return of Excalibur

Fire: Nimuë's Destiny

"In A Beginning", a short story featuring Lilith
Chapter One: A Fun, Fast Way to Write Fiction

