On her return to the mansion she found Morgan in the attic, Ollet’s Compendium open on the workbench beside him. His kiss was lingering, his look thoughtful as reluctantly they broke apart.

“You’ve eaten.”

“Remmie wanted to feed me. I couldn’t say no.” She tapped the Compendium, pouting a little. “You started already.”

He grinned. “Serves you right.”

“And?” she said, ignoring the provocation.

Still grinning, he slid his notebook toward her. One glance at his scribbled notes and she was grinning too.

“Oh, Morgan. I think that’s it.”

“I know that’s it,” he said, and caught her in a crushing embrace. “Barl, my beloved, we have saved Dorana.”

She wriggled free of him. Kept hold of his hand and looked at his notes more closely, seeing the incant come alive in her mind, in the way magic always did for her.

“Not quite yet,” she said, having learned caution these past few days. “But we’re closer. Although we’ll have to expect some more failures before we can trust to reliable success. Best you instruct Rumm to buy lots and lots of chickens.”

And then she laughed, and flung her arms about his neck.

“Oh my love. You’re right. We’ve saved Dorana.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-eight

Because she felt horribly responsible, that evening Venette risked the long travel incant to the Garricks’ country estate and faced Parnel, his wife, and a tearful Maris in their drawing room. Broke the bad news, that Morgan had most definitely withdrawn his offer to handfast with Maris. Sat without protest as the storm of their displeasure raged around her, unabating. Maris wept until she made herself sick, then withdrew with her mother.

“This is a bad business, Venette,” Parnel said, breaking the uncomfortable silence the women left in their wake. “Very bad. I suppose you’ll tell me we’ve no recourse?”

She fiddled with her gold and ambrix wedding ring. “There is always recourse, Parnel. But the question you must answer is: will the cost be worth it? Nobody save your family and I know how this affair has turned sour.”

“He knows.”

“Morgan has no desire to see Maris publicly humiliated,” she said, unblinking, and desperately hoped she spoke the truth. “Besides, his unwise choice of a… companion… will keep him busy fighting his own fires. Trust me on that.”

“You think it’s a case, then, of least said means soonest mended?”

“I certainly do.”

And if you’re wise, Parnel, you’ll adopt the motto at once.

He was a decent man. Perhaps a little too ambitious… but not a fool. “All right, Venette. We’ll keep Maris here with us until the gossip, if there’s gossip, runs dry.”

She stood, feeling giddy with relief. “Good. She’ll repine a while, Parnel, but take no great harm from this, I’m sure. Maris is young and beautiful. The right mage will come along.”