Magic In The Storm Read Online Free PDF Page B

excuse me,
sir.”
    He stopped her at the bottom of the stairs
and narrowed his little blue eyes at her as he did every time she
returned from being out. What he was thinking when he did that? Was
he looking for some evidence of misconduct?
    If so, then he was, once again, to be sorely
disappointed. She smiled at him, secure in her innocence.
    “Lord Vallentyn returned nearly an hour ago
and was concerned that you had not returned before him. Where have
you been?” he said, his voice high with annoyance.
    The large oak door closed behind them with a
boom that echoed through the medieval hall—shutting out the storm,
shutting out her freedom.
    Adriana flinched. Her precious moments of
liberty were gone, but she would hold onto whatever she could—she
had to.
    “I was enjoying the fresh country air,” she
said in a firm, but quiet voice. “Now, if you will excuse me, I
need to change and put away my sketchbook.”
    He took a step back, eyeing her sketchbook
with distaste. “See that you hide it well. We do not want anyone
seeing that rubbish.”
    Her guardian knew so well how to hurt her.
She would not give him the satisfaction of showing it, however. She
turned away from him and began up the stairs, her pace slow and
dignified.
    Her steps quickened after she reached the top
of the stairs. By the time she reached her room at the end of the
long corridor, she was nearly running.
    Throwing open the double doors that led from
her room out onto the balcony facing the back of the house, she
allowed the storm to blow the hurt and tension from her mind and
body. The curtains framing the door flew out behind her as the wind
and rain gusted in.
    Adriana did not mind. She stood just inside
the door watching the magnificent storm play out as if solely for
her own enjoyment.
    Taking a deep breath of the cool air, she
closed her eyes and allowed the wind and rain to wash over her.
    Freedom. This is what it would feel like.
Like the wind and the rain going wherever it willed, like a bird
soaring over the land, like the waves of a briny ocean. Freedom was
the knowledge that she could leave any time, or stay and do
whatever she wanted. Freedom, however, was not something that
Adriana had—only something she longed for with every ounce of her
being.
    Enjoying the feel of the storm, she could
pretend that, for the moment at least, it was hers.
    In her mind’s eye, she saw again the black,
piercing eyes of the man in the wood. Morgan. She shivered at the
memory of the fire in those eyes when he had held her leg and
mended the bone.
    Quickly, she spun around and grabbed up her
sketchbook. With a few quick strokes of her pencil, she captured
those eyes before they faded from her memory. Filling in the dark
pupils, she stared at them as they stared back at her.
    The fire was there. His eyes looked at her
with an intensity that sent a rush of heat through her.
    That same fascination, and the deep feeling
as if she knew him, overcame her as she stared into his black eyes
in the center of her white sheet of paper.
    The eyes needed a face.
    She sketched in Morgan’s features around his
eyes. His slightly curving eyebrows, his long straight nose and his
mouth. She drew his mouth very slowly and carefully, making his
bottom lip full and his top lip thin.
    She imagined what it would be like to kiss
those lips. They would be warm and gentle. She looked again at what
she had drawn, and noticed a slight smile to his lips. Yes, he was
a kind man. And set now in his face, his eyes showed him to be
thoughtful as well.
    She drew the outline of his face, shading in
his high cheekbones and strong chin. And then his hair. He had
long, wavy black hair. Adriana’s pencil took many long curving
strokes in drawing his hair, reveling in its thick softness.
    She added the lines of his neck and the top
of his shoulders. They were broad shoulders. Strong shoulders.
Perfect for relying on. She knew he would care for her and make her
happy.
    She sat back and