They would go to Lincoln. She would find her sister. The Welshman would part ways with her and find his new life, whatever it may be.

One kiss. She should regret it. She did regret it, even as she separated out the parts of it she wanted to keep. Be selfish, she reminded herself, and stored away the memory of the stirring in her belly when he moved against her, the pleasure of tasting him, the thrill of feeling what she’d only seen in others: desire.

It was the falcon that finally made her move. The Welshman always let it out of the cage and onto the perch as soon as they stopped. But this time she had distracted him from it, and she could not bear to think it might suffer for its confinement. He was forever fretting that the cage was too small as they journeyed, lowering the side of it so the bird might stretch its wings and carrying the falcon on his arm for hours at a time.

“Tiffany,” she said, before she opened the cage. He always talked to it, murmuring in that soothing way. But Nan found words to be more useless than soothing, and so she could think of nothing to say beyond its name.

She knew enough not to be afraid, but was nervous of doing it any harm. If she had more courage, she would fashion a gauntlet and try to transfer the bird from the cage to the perch. Instead she lowered the bars as she had seen him do and watched as the falcon moved restlessly on the block. It was not hooded, and it looked at her with interest from eyes that were the same dark, dark brown as his.

They blinked at each other for a very long time while she turned her mind to her sister and what would happen. Somewhere just outside the walls of Lincoln, Aunt Mary had said. It should not be difficult to find. And that’s what she would do. Find the place and circle over it and then swoop in, like she had seen the falcon do. Catch her sister and carry her away. Or dive and miss, as she had seen the falcon do even more often.

Would her sister be starving still? Would she look as the Welshman had looked, hungry and haunted and grateful to be found? Nan prayed not. But then she tried to imagine her sister fat and happy, content with her lot, and failed at that.

The only way was to be like the falcon: wait for the moment, react to the circumstance. Do not anticipate beforehand. Never forget that all is potential, until it is truth.