Storm On The Horizon, Page 3

  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 a
lso 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?"