“You’re fitty enough for me,” he assured her with a wink, the Cornish word feeling amusing on his tongue. Though he’d been born and raised in Cornwall, the common dialect had never been permitted in the home, apparently being too coarse for his parents.

With Emblyn, however, it seemed more like music.

“What do I do, Em?” he asked, sighing and folding his arms on the table. “She’s miserable. I’m less miserable, but hardly cheery, and we’re either bickering like children or we’re bringing the roof down.”

“And ee be abed a’times.”

His eyes shot to hers. “How do you know about that?”

One trim brow rose. “I’m no iggit. Ee be married proper, and t’ain’t no mistake.”

He had no intention of pressing the issue, nor of inquiring just how his sister might even know such details, let alone what they meant. “Yes, occasionally. But she’s so different there, and I…” He trailed off, looking down at his hands. “I take better care of her there.”

“‘Tis no mumchance, that.” She patted one of his hands fondly. “Ee need to find sommat to enjoy together. Do ee like music?”

“Of course.” He slid back in his chair, relaxing as much as he dared. “I think she does as well. I’ve no idea of her accomplishments, but I certainly cannot play.”

“Have ee ever tried?”

He shook his head. “Father did not believe gentlemen played or sang, though it did not stop his drunken tunes.”

“Faather,” Emblyn spat, drawing the word out in the Cornish way, “be dead. Ee should learn to play. And them tunes be jaunty ‘nough, asides.”

Harrison playfully glared in her direction. “You should not know them.”

“I know more than ee’d care to think!” she shot back. “Ask Julia to teach ee both to play, Harry. An’ when Lily returns in the spring, she can teach ee too. Playin’ duets might be what ee need.”

The idea made him smile just a little. “In life? Or being forced to sit next to each other and play together?”

“Whichever fills your desh o’ tay,” Emblyn said, shrugging her shoulders. “Per’aps both.”

He nodded at the wisdom, though he’d no idea how his wife would take to the idea. It did make him wonder something, however, and he looked at his sister again. “Do you play, Emblyn?”

Her look made him laugh out loud. “Now where’d ee think I’d be learnin’ such a thing?”

He reached for her hand, relieved when she set it in his. “Do you want to learn with us? Separately, but if we’re doing this, you might as well join. If you’d like to.”

Emblyn smiled slowly, and he’d never seen his sister look quite so shy. “Ee mean it?”

“Of course I mean it.” He squeezed her hand, his heart warming. “Would you like to?”