“Our household,” he corrected automatically, following her out to the bedroom and the wardrobe where she kept her gowns. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he awaited her reaction. She deserved a happy surprise for once.

She flung open the doors, reached in, then stopped. Whirled around. “Gabriel!”

He grinned in the face of her astonished delight. “Sometime between arguing with Jadren and firing wizards, I managed to squeeze in cornering Wizard Dahlia into making you some new gowns.”

She whirled around again, touching the different fabrics with reverence. “Oh, you didn’t have to do this. It really wasn’t a high priority. I shouldn’t have made snotty remarks about my dearth of gowns.”

He went to her, stroking light fingers down her arms. “The care and feeding of familiars,” he reminded her softly. “You told me from the beginning that you were high maintenance, so I’m acting accordingly.”

She craned her neck to look up at him in chagrin. “I hope I’m not, really. Probably that’s another way in which I need to evolve.”

“If you were, really,” he returned, gravely mimicking her, “it wouldn’t be nearly so fun to give you presents. Now pick one out and get dressed, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.” He smacked her nearly naked bottom lightly, pleased by her gasp and the immediate heating of her magic.

“That’s not exactly a threat,” she taunted as he removed himself a safe distance from the temptation she represented.

“Hmm. Good point. How about: pick one out and get dressed or no arcanium sex after we get home?”

“That will do it,” she agreed cheerfully, immediately selecting a gown.

They rode the horses to his parents’ cottage, Vale and Salve pleased for the outing in the balmy evening, dark as it was, the days still short. Gabriel had barely dismounted, turning to help Nic down, when his mother burst out of the illuminated doorway. “Did you find Selly?” she demanded breathlessly.

“Not yet,” he answered, irritated by both his failure to bring Selly home and that she was his mother’s first concern. Nic squeezed his arm in sympathy, then breezed over to his mother, kissing her cheek.

“We brought you some ginger cake,” she said, pressing the package into Daisy’s hands, then putting an arm around her to steer her into the cottage. “We had so much left over from dinner, and it’s best fresh, you know.”

His father rose from his chair by the fire where he nursed a cup of tea, holding out a hand to shake, then pulling Gabriel into back-pounding embrace. “Thank you,” he murmured in Gabriel’s ear.

“GF, do you want cake?” Nic asked brightly.

“I do,” his father answered. “And I’ll show you how to make my special whiskey sauce to put on it.”

“I can do that,” Daisy inserted, moving to do so.

“Nothing doing,” GF declared, affectionately nudging her aside and pointing Nic to the kitchen. “It’s my secret recipe that I’m sharing with my daughter-in-law. No spies allowed.”