“Twice—” She choked, then certain she’d gotten the joke, shook her head. “You almost had me.”

“He’s greedy, is Rogan,” Maggie said with a smile. “I’m forever telling him he asks outrageous prices, and he delights in forever proving me wrong by getting them. If he wants six thousand pounds for it, he’ll get it, I promise you.”

The logical part of Shannon’s brain calculated the exchange into American dollars, and banked it. The artist in her was both flustered and grieving.

“All right, boy-o,” Maggie said to the squirming Liam. “It’s your da’s turn.” She marched out with him, leaving Shannon staring at the painting.

“When I sold the yearling,” Murphy began in a quiet voice, “it broke my heart. He was mine, you see.” He smiled a little when Shannon turned to him. “I’d been there at the foaling and watched through until the first nursing. I trained him to the lead and worried when he bruised his knee. But I had to sell him, and knew that in my head. You can’t be in the horse business without doing business. Still, it broke my heart.”

“I’ve never sold anything I’ve painted. I’ve given it away as gifts, but that’s not the same.” She took a long breath. “I didn’t know I could feel this way. Excited, overwhelmed, and incredibly sad.”

“It may help to know that Gray’s already told Rogan he’ll skin him if Rogan sells your Brianna to anyone but him.”

“I’d have given it to them.”

Murphy leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Say it soft, for Rogan’s got good hearing.”

That made her laugh, and she let him take her hand and lead her into the next room.

It took more than an hour before she could be persuaded from the first floor to the second. There was too much to see, and admire, and want. The first thing she spotted in the upstairs sitting room was a long sinuous flow of glass that hinted at the shape of a dragon. She could see the spread of wings, the iridescent sheen of them, the curve of the neck, the fierce turn of head and sweep of tail.

“I have to have it.” Possessively she ran her fingers along the serpentine body. It was Maggie’s work, of course. Shannon didn’t have to see the carved M.M. under the base of the tail to know it.

“You’ll let me buy it for you.”

“No.” She was firm as she turned to Murphy. “I’ve wanted a piece of hers for more than a year and know exactly what Rogan gets for her. I can afford it now. Barely. I mean it, Murphy.”

“You took the earrings.” And she was wearing them still, he saw with pleasure.

“I know, and it’s sweet of you to offer. But this is important to me, to buy for myself something of my sister’s.”

The stubborn look that had come into his eyes faded. “Ah, so it’s that way. I’m glad.”