Creagan (continued)
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There, the sound came again, quick, fleeting. Valinor stood from the piano and with his hands moved his long hair back onto his shoulders in a smooth movement. Crossing the room to the door of his quarters he tipped his head and listened. Suddenly he heard it again; laughter. Women's laughter. He made his way through the halls to the drawing room where he found Nadjinia sitting in front of the fire, hair loose from her normal style, leaning forward as if sharing a secret. Morgan sat on the floor near the hearth, poking half heartedly at the fire with the tongs from the fireplace set.
Morgan was in mid-sentence as he entered: "...a way of deciphering what life brings you. Most of my marks were not interested in expanding their minds though. They were interested in romance or money usually. Nothing highly interesting. Nothing of substance. I usually merely read their cards without immersing myself too much into what was being shown to me," she paused, in reflection. "Then when Marcus came....." She trailed off. "He's the one who died?" Nadjinia prompted softly. Neither woman had sensed his presence, so Valinor merely stood in the doorway, listening.
Except for the crackling of the fire, the room had fallen into silence. Valinor began to wish he had never left the safety of his study, wished he had not walked into this suddenly uncomfortable room, a room he had previously immensely enjoyed sitting alone in with Nadjinia, sipping an aged Scotch or remote liqueur, discussing half notes or minor keys while Nadji knitted. Now it seemed different somehow, changed by the addition of a third person. Morgan was sitting very still, as if wired to run off to her room again, stopped only by the fact that he currently blocked the doorway. He decided to switch topics, seeing as he had intruded upon one which seemed tenderly intimate in a way that he did not want to explore. "Nadjinia tells me you have a pet," he began. His voice came out louder than he intended, and he winced a bit inwardly.
"The raven, dear," Nadjinia prompted
her.
What? Some sort of familiar then? Damn the woman! Was everything a mystery about her? She made the thing sound infernal! Valinor wondered how this seemingly innocent attempt at trivial conversation had taken on such a dark aspect. He noted that she still held the fire tongs defensively. Everything she did, every mannerism she had seemed readied for attack. He attempted to end the bizarre discussion in a form befitting the master of the house. Striving for a gruff, yet slightly condescending inflection, anything to reassert his position not only in the room, but also in the exchange between them he told her, "I'll make sure the help knows not to chase it off then." A small smile. "Or worse."
At his words, a soft sound came from the darkened hallway beyond the doorway where Valinor was standing. Nadjinia looked towards it and smiled again, in a manner similar to the way she had greeted Valinor when he first entered the room. Valinor acknowledged the sound with a commanding nod, as if sealing his remark. Morgan's face took on a different expression, one of wariness. She began to realize that there was someone out there, and her face betrayed her with a look of dreaded unease. As if in answer to her unspoken query, thwarting her attempt to see past the darkness in the hall, the door slowly closed and was latched by an imperceptible hand.
The action seemed to jolt Morgan out of
her sly mood, and her look of unease deepened perceptively.
Nadjinia seemed unmoved by the action. Valinor's face took on a
nonplussed look. Now he was closed in the room with Nadjinia and
with her. He decided to end this ridiculous encounter
immediately. Grasping the door handle firmly in his hand and
twisting it sharply he released the catch. Regaining his poise he
bowed slightly in Nadjinia's direction. "My sweet," he said gently,
"Good night." He glanced meaningfully out into the hallway. "You should not be wandering the halls alone at night. Nadjinia I am sure will escort you safely to your chamber." He turned and strode from the room. The door closed behind him with a finality that sapped the warmth from the parlor, and Morgan turned, blinking at Nadjinia in stunned silence. His last remark rang in her ears. Had he been warning her in a gentlemanly manner of unseen danger? Or, on a more sinister note, had he been giving permission to whatever lurked out there to do as it wished if she did not comply?
Nadjinia rose and put her hand out to Morgan. Together they stepped out into the darkened hallway. The closing of the door muffled the crackling pop of the fire, and as they stepped away, they did not hear the sudden hiss of the fire being put out, and the fire tongs being placed carefully away.
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