“No, it’s just”—he let out a gusty sigh, and winced again—“the selkies sometimes fear the sea, too, with good reason. But that doesn’t keep them away from it. As for Murtagh…well, his visits to my sick bed weren’t just to keep me company.”

“Then why was he there?”

“He hedged a bit—and I got the impression Murtagh rarely hedges about anything—but the gist of the talk was to find out if I’d have any objections to his visiting us to become better acquainted. And before you say anything that makes you sound dim-witted, I’ll tell you now he really isn’t interested in becoming better acquainted with me.”

Jenny turned away and frowned at the sea. “He hasn’t come to his grandmother’s cottage in the past two days. Not even to visit you.”

“That’s because he’s gone to the mainland across the bay to talk to the young baron who rules there, and also to purchase a mainsail for Sweet Selkie. They’ve canvas enough to replace the smaller sails that were damaged, but he’ll bring the mainsail back with him.”

“You gave him the coins to pay for it?”

Chuckling, Mihail slipped his arm through hers and started walking back to the village. “Craig gave him the coins for it—and the commission for acting as the family’s agent in the purchase.”

Jenny blinked. “The Lord of the Selkies had to barter with Craig to pay for the mainsail and get a commission?” She pitied anyone who had to barter with her cousin.

“Murtagh was ready to pull his own hair out by the time it was done, then insisted that he’d given in only because Craig was still recovering from his injuries.”

Jenny frowned. “Craig didn’t barter well?”

“He bartered as he always does.”

“Oh, dear. Poor Murtagh.” She laughed, but the laughter faded quickly. “Craig will heal, won’t he?”

Mihail looked sad and grim. “He was badly burned, Jenny. His face will always be scarred. But the healers are hopeful that he’ll regain the use of his hand, and there’s nothing wrong with his wits. Time will heal the body, and work will heal the rest. In a few days, we’ll be able to go on to Sealand, and he can set up the stock we have and start to rebuild the family business.”

He didn’t call it home, she noticed. Sealand wasn’t home for him. Not yet. But it was safe harbor. She knew he would wait anxiously for the day when his wife and daughter would be able to leave Willowsbrook and join him there. Then Sealand would be home.