It was the height of foolishness, surely, to be jealous of a woman she’d never met.

“Then perhaps, when you’re married, you’ll want to share that work with her.”

“Instead of you?” He laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Now, the entire estate is yours to wander as you like. I’ve taken down the boundary warding. All I ask is that you go on avoiding my father’s apartments. He… would not understand.”

She had no doubt of that. “Does this mean I’m free to read the books in your library? There are so many I’ve never seen before. I want to catch up.”

Morgan grinned, disarmingly boyish. “Read them to your heart’s content. I can explain whatever you don’t understand.”

“How generous you are, sir! But don’t be surprised if I end up explaining a few things to you.”

“Get back to your chickens,” he said, still grinning. “Your rule as lady of the manor doesn’t start ’til the morning.”

After he left, she picked up the stinking hessian sack. But instead of emptying the next laying box she stood still in thought. The poultry coop echoed to the sound of hens, cackling. Her bundled hair and drab, rumpled linens stank of their shit. She could leave this behind, now. She could wash herself clean tonight and never think of hens again. After today her life would be naught but magework. Thanks to Morgan Danfey, she was about to become her best and truest self.

But that means nothing. And I can’t hope it ever will.

Finished at last with the laying boxes, she returned to the mansion intending to scrub herself clean in the scullery before the servants’ dinner. But as she reached the bottom of the staircase she saw Rumm, and he saw her, and the look on his face told her that Morgan had already taken him aside.

“Master Rumm,” she said, and offered him a tentative smile. “Could we speak?”

Unsmiling, he nodded. “I think we should.”

Because he was the mansion’s master servant, he was granted the privilege of his own apartment below stairs. Closing the small parlour’s door, Rumm indicated a chair.

“Please.”

She sat, and he retreated to stand with his back to the fireplace, his arms folded. “I knew you were unbound.”

What? “I’m sorry?”

A muscle twitched beside Rumm’s right eye. “I am no mage worth a damn, but I have a little sensitivity. As soon as I saw you this morning, I knew.”

“And said nothing?”

“It wasn’t my place. I am instructed not to discuss Council matters with anyone.”

“Not even Lord Danfey?” That’s fortunate.

“Master Rumm…” Barl let her hands lift and fall in her lap. “I mean the councillor no harm. Nor his lordship. I only ever wanted to be left alone to learn.”

“The Council sees you as a threat.”

“And the Council is mistaken.”