07 The Return_ Midnight - L. J. Smith

and-ruby necklace and ring—but no bracelets.
The next minute the girls were both curtseying, deep, graceful curtseys. Stefan made his
best bow.
Lady Ulma held out both hands to Elena, who seemed to be almost frantic over something
that Stefan didn’t understand. Elena took the extended hands, breathing quickly and shallowly. “Lady
Ulma—you’re so thin—”
Just then the babbling of a baby could be heard. Elena’s face lit up and she smiled at
Lady Ulma, letting out a quick breath. A young servant—even younger-looking than Bonnie—gently
put a tiny bundle made of lace and sheerest lawn into Lady Ulma’s arms. Both Elena and Bonnie
blinked away tears, all the while beaming at the child and making little nonsense noises. Stefan could
understand that—they’d known the Lady since she was a whip-torn slave, trying not to miscarry.
“But how—?” Elena began spluttering. “We saw you only a few days ago, but this baby
is months old—”
“A few days? Is that how long it seems to you?” asked Lady Ulma. “To us, it has been
many months. But the magic still works, Elena! Your magic remained! It was an easy delivery—easy!
And then Dr. Meggar says that you saved me before she suffered injury from the abuse I went through.
She is trying to speak already! It is you, Elena, it is your magic!”
At this the Lady made a movement as if to kneel at Elena’s feet. She got no farther than a
few inches, though, because Elena caught her hands, crying, “Lady Ulma, no!” while Stefan, at his
best speed, slipped beside the girl servant and caught the Lady by her elbows, supporting her weight.
“And I’m not magic,” Elena added. “Stefan, tell her that I’m not magic.”
Obediently, Stefan leaned toward the ear of the tall woman. “Elena is the most magic
I’ve ever encountered,” he stage-whispered. “She has Powers that I can’t even understand.”
“Ahh!” Elena made a wordless exclamation of frustration.
“Do you know what I’m naming her?” the Lady continued. Her face, if not conventionally
beautiful, was striking, with an aristocratic combination of Roman nose and high cheekbones.
“No.” Elena smiled—and then “No!” Elena cried. “Please! Don’t condemn her to a life
of expectations and terror. Don’t tempt anyone to hurt her while she’s still a child. Oh, Lady Ulma!”
“But my dear savior…”
Then Elena began to manage things. Once she took a situation in hand there was no way
not to go with the flow of it. “Lady Ulma,” she said clearly, “forgive me for interfering in your affairs.
But Bonnie has told me—” She stopped, hesitated.
“Of the troubles of strong and hopeful young girls, for the most part poor or enslaved,
who have taken on the names of the three bravest young women who ever graced our world,” Lady
Ulma finished for her.
“Something like that,” Elena said, flushing.
“Nobody’s calling themselves Damon,” put in the young nurse cheerfully and with the
utmost goodwill. “Neither boys nor girls.”
Stefan could have kissed her.
“Oh, Lakshmi!” Elena hugged the coltish-looking teenager. “I didn’t even see you
properly. Let me look at you.” She held the girl at arm’s length. “Do you know, you’ve grown at least
an inch since I last saw you?”
Lakshmi beamed.
Elena turned back to Lady Ulma. “Yes, I am afraid for the child. Why not call her Ulma?”
The patrician lady half shut her eyes. “Because, my dear Elena, Helena, Aliena, Alliana,