Fingertip pressed beneath her chin, he drew her face toward him and took her lips in a swift kiss.

“You, my love, are the answer to every problem. Didn’t you know it?”

She dimpled at him, wickedly. “Well, yes, of course. But I was trying to be modest.”

“Really?” He widened his eyes. “Why? You’ve never tried before.”

“Oh, Morgan. Do be sensible. Now let’s go back up to the attic so we can—”

“In a minute,” he said, and took hold of her hand. “But first…”

She stilled. “What? Is something wrong? The Council. Did something else happen?”

“Something, yes. Perhaps,” he said slowly. There’d been such an odd look in Venette’s eyes before she left. An improperly masked fear, that was very unlike her. “As we’ve been mageworking, Barl, have you felt anything… untoward?”

“Untoward? What do you mean?”

He wished he knew. He wished he’d not dismissed Venette without first making her explain what she’d meant. But he’d been so angry.

“I think… Venette is worried.”

A shadow skimmed Barl’s expressive face. “Your dear friend Lady Martain has no love for me. Doubtless she’s of the opinion I’ve ruined your life.”

“True, but that’s not what I’m getting at.”

She looked at him, properly. “Then what are you getting at?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, shrugging. “She asked me if we’d felt anything out of the ordinary during our magework.”

“Out of the ordinary how?”

He shook his head. “She didn’t say. I didn’t ask. I was eager for her to leave. But—” Frowning, he saw again that fearful glint in Venette’s eyes. “As I said. She was worried.”

“Well, my love, I’ve felt nothing to give me pause,” Barl said. “And if I had, you’d know for I’d have straightaway told you.”

“And I’d have told you if I’d felt uneasy. And I haven’t.”

“Exactly. And since if there was something wrong you and I would surely feel it…” Sliding the Compendium to the floor, Barl scrambled to her feet. “Pay her no mind, Morgan. This is only Venette Martain seeking to cause trouble. She’s trying to lure you back to the Council so they can crowd you into a corner and harangue you until you change your mind about me.”

Surprised, he watched her step over piles of books and cross to the library window. Stand before it with her back to him, her arms folded, her shoulders slumping a little as though she were burdened by some impossible fear.

“Barl? What is it?”

She pulled away from him a little when he joined her. “Nothing.”

“Barl.”

“Well, it’s the Council, isn’t it?” she demanded, her voice unsteady. “Morgan, they have so much power. And now that you’re not one of them…”