“At times I feel her there, or catch the scent of her hair or her skin. But not once in a hundred years times three have I been able to see or to touch or so much as speak my heart to her.”

“You cast a harsh spell on the both of you,” Brenna commented.

“I did, yes, and I have paid for that rash moment of temper. You know of such things,” he said.

“I do, indeed. And fortunate it is I haven’t the power to conjure or cast.”

“Mortals.” Amusement softened his face. “You’ve no concept of what powers you hold, and so you use what you have most carelessly on yourselves and each other.”

“That’s pot calling kettle.”

“As you see it,” he agreed with a nod. “But there was no faerie magic in what began between me and Gwen. I neither tricked nor lured her to me, as some tell the tale. She came to me willing, until her father forbade her. Until he promised her to another for fear of me.”

“I believe the truth of that.” Because she did, she laid a comforting hand on his arm. “A maid had less say in such choices then.”

Carrick tossed his leg over the horse, slid down. “Then make yours.”

“I have.” She mirrored his move, watched his mouth twitch. “But I’ll follow through in my own way.”

“Listen,” was all he said.

The music drifted out on the air, wove around her like a silk net. “It’s Shawn playing. The song he gave me. Oh!” She closed her eyes. “It fills the heart right up. There’s nothing in your raft lovelier than that,” she said, reaching down to open the gate.

But it held fast, no matter how she pushed or pulled.“I can’t open it.” Panicked, she whirled around, but horse and rider were gone. She turned back, gripping the gate with both hands, shoved.

“Shawn!”

“There, now.” She was in his arms, and there was a chuckle in his voice. “You were dreaming. An excitable one.”

“Dreaming.” Her mind was full of mists and stars and music. “I couldn’t open the gate. I couldn’t get in.”

“You are in.”

“I am in. God, I’m fuzzy-brained yet. I must’ve dropped off like a rock.” She pushed at her hair. “Give me a minute to wake up.”

“I’ve some news that might clear the cobwebs.”

“What is it?”

“Aidan’s taken with your drawings of the theater.”

As he’d suspected they would, the clouds in her eyes cleared immediately. “Really? Is he?”

“He is, yes. So pleased, in fact, he’s already spoken of them to the Magee.”

“What did he say?”

“Which of them?”

“Both, either.” She gripped his arms and shook. “Don’t play with me, Shawn, or I’ll have to hurt you.”

“Sure and that’s a frightening thought, so I’ll tell you. I can’t relay exactly what Magee said, as it was Aidan who spoke with him, but it seems that the man’s interested enough to want to take a look at what you’ve drawn up.” Shawn toyed with her hair as he spoke, a new habit he was enjoying. “So they’re going off to New York City, and we’ll see what we see.”