She clucked a third time, and the horse broke into a canter. Jack could feel the taunt of the ground as his balance teetered. He was about to tumble off and had no choice but to grasp her waist and sidle closer to her, so that no space remained between their bodies. He felt her palm cover his knuckles, warm with reassurance. She eased his hands forward to her navel, so that his arms embraced her, his fingers linked over the stays of her dress.

By the time they reached the castle courtyard, Jack was certain a few years had been shaved from his life and there were tangles in his hair that no comb would be able to tame. The mare came to a halt before the stable doors and nickered, announcing their arrival. Only then did Jack loosen his death grip on Adaira.

She dismounted first, a graceful slide to the cobblestones. She turned and held out her hand to him, wordlessly offering her assistance.

Jack scowled but accepted, surprised by how steady and strong she was, even as he was unbalanced. Awkwardly, he eased himself to the ground. He winced as he straightened.

“You’ll be sore tomorrow,” Adaira warned.

“Excellent,” he replied, thinking he couldn’t afford to let one more thing ail him.

He relinquished her hand and fell into stride beside her, now that he knew where she was taking him. They passed through the garden in companionable silence and ascended to the music chamber, a place Jack was coming to love. He brushed the dust from his clothes as Adaira called for tea.

“Are you feeling well, Jack?” she asked, looking him over as she walked to her desk.

He paused, wondering if she was at last noticing the effects of last night. “I’m fine,” he said. “Although I could wait another eleven years before riding a horse again.”

She smiled, sorting through a stack of books. “I don’t think I can allow that to happen.”

“No, heiress?”

She didn’t reply, nor did she need to. Jack saw the determined gleam in her eyes as she brought a book to him. It was only a matter of time before she would have him astride another horse.

“Here. The music is tucked within the leaves,” Adaira said, extending the slender volume toward him. “I know you might feel pressured to rush because of Torin, but if you need several days to study the music, then take them, Jack. I would prefer that we be prepared when we approach the spirits.”

“I think I can be ready in two days, at the soonest,” he replied, accepting the book. He admired its illuminated cover before opening it to find the loose parchment, hidden in the pages. He could not deny that a part of him was eager to learn this next ballad of Lorna’s. Anticipation shivered through him.