“Oh, how do you think?” Venette demanded. “Just because you and Greve hold yourselves aloof, do you suppose the rest of us do? Did you honestly think Sallis wouldn’t punish you for that challenge?”

“By attempting to ruin my standing with Maris’s father?”

“By any means he can lay hand to! Morgan—” With an effort, Venette calmed herself. “You really must learn patience. Sallis isn’t—”

He lifted his hand. “Enough, Venette. I don’t wish to discuss Sallis Arkley.”

“Obviously,” she retorted. “For if you did, you’d have asked my advice about bearding him in his den.”

“What need of that, my lady, when I already know what you’d advise?”

Giving him another censorious look, she crossed to his abandoned armchair, picked up the emptied brandy glass, sniffed, then grimaced.

“Horrible. I should’ve warned you to bring a bottle of your own.”

“It would’ve been the friendly thing to do.”

“Yes,” said Venette after a moment, considering him. “But these days it’s hard to know with you, Morgan, whether friendship will earn a smile or a snarl.”

His turn to walk to a bookshelf and pretend interest in the tired books it contained. “Don’t be foolish. Friends can be friends without they endlessly agree.” He resisted the urge to look at her. “So. Did you spring to my defence with Parnel?”

“You need to ask?”

“Thank you. It’s appreciated.”

But also unnecessary. The Garricks might outrank the Danfeys, but he was a councillor… and because of that would forever hold the upper hand.

Venette put down the empty glass. “You intend to proceed, then? You’ve not changed your mind?”

If only he could. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m rehearsing the speech I must make to Maris’s lordly father. And when I leave this estate, I’ll leave it as a handfasted man.”

Arms folded, she frowned. “Yes. But will you leave it as a man in love?”

In love? With Maris Garrick? “She stirs me.”

“Lust is not love, Morgan. Moreover, it is fleeting.”

He turned. “I have always been a mage before I was a man. Ask me about my magework. I’ll show you passion then.”

Another silence, as she looked at him. “I warned you before, my dear. I’ll warn you again. Do not make me regret that I championed you to Maris.”

“She’ll have no complaint of me, Venette. I know my duty and the kindness owed to a young girl.”

“Kindness?” Her fingers tightened, as though she longed to slap him. “When a woman gives herself to a man she is owed a great deal more than kindness.”

“Maris Garrick will have all I have to offer. Neither you nor she can ask or expect more than that.”