The House Of Gaian

bed, feeling awkward as she watched Fiona pack. “You’re welcome to stay. You know that.”
    Fiona joined her on the bed and rested a hand on Breanna’s cheek. “I know, darling Breanna. We all know that. But the Hunter knows where Jennyfer and Mihail found safe harbor,, so his wife and daughter will travel with her as far as the western bay and take a ship from there. And the rest of us ... We have to go back.”
    “You don’t know what you’ll find there. You don’t know if there’s anything left.”
    “Then we’ll start again. Build again. And one day our ships will sail down the Una River and out to sea again. But whatever we find there, it’s still home. We need to reclaim what was ours.”
    “I understand.”
    Fiona’s brows drew together in a worried frown. “You’re welcome to come with us. You don’t have to stay here alone.”
    Breanna forced herself to smile. “I won’t be alone. Clay, Edgar, and Glynis will still be here.” Neither of them mentioned Falco, who had made a fumbling excuse about needing to do something before riding away an hour ago.
    Fiona went back to her packing. “You’ll write to me on a regular basis, just to let me know how things are going.”
    “Yes, I will.” Breanna stood up and hugged her cousin. “I’m glad you were here.”
    When she went outside a little while later, she found Falco sitting on the bench beside the kitchen door.
    He sprang up as soon as he saw her.
    “Breanna? Could we talk?”
    Why not ? she thought, suddenly weary. She sank down on the bench. He sat on the other end—the polite distance required between strangers. Were there some standard phrases gentry women used when a lover was trying to say he was leaving? She’d have to ask Elinore so she’d be prepared next time. If her heart was ever willing to risk a next time.
    “Breanna, maybe it’s too soon, all things considered, but...” He reached down, picked up a basket, and set it between them. “I got this for you.”
    She lifted the cloth folded over the top of the basket—and stared at the sleeping black puppy. She wanted to run her fingers over that soft fur, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to touch him.
    “Squire Thurston’s bitch had a litter,” Falco said. “He wasn’t going to keep them. And since he’s pretty sure the wild oats the bitch got into came from here, I thought...”
    “Wild oats?” Breanna asked, bewildered. “From here? What kind of... Oh .” She looked at the puppy again, and her throat tightened. But she still hesitated to pet him.
    “I thought he’d be company for you, once winter sets in. And I thought you’d like him better than a salmon.”
     
    “Better than—” Remembering the condition of the salmon he’d brought her, she grabbed the puppy out of the basket and cradled him against her chest. “Falco! You didn’t fly over there and snatch him, did you?”
    “Fly? Snatch?” Falco’s eyes widened. “No. I rode over with the basket. Just got back a little while ago.”
    “Oh.” It wasn’t so hard to cuddle the puppy, who was content to be petted back to sleep. “I thought...
    after everything that’s happened, I thought you’d grown tired of this world and were going back to Tir Alainn.” Where it’s peaceful. . . and safe .
    After a long silence, he asked quietly, “Do you want to live in Tir Alainn?”
    She didn’t have to think about it. “No.”
    “Then I’m staying. I love you, Breanna. And I think... I think Willowsbrook needs us.”
    She heard it again. The same hesitation and uncertainty she’d heard when he’d finally shown himself to her in human form. He was looking for some assurance that he had a place in the world.
    Smiling, she held out her hand. “Yes, Falco. Willowsbrook needs us. Both of us.”
    The following morning Aiden set two fresh stacks of paper at one end of the dining room table at Liam’s house, made sure the quills were sharpened and the ink bottles filled. He and Lyrra would make notes of this barons’ council, then combine them into one document for Liam’s review and approval.
    He looked at Donovan, who sat in a cushioned chair to his left. “Are you sure you should be out of bed?
    ”
    “If I didn’t get out of that cursed bed, I’d either have to strangle Gwenny or have an affair with the cook.
    The woman has taken a fiendish delight is serving me chicken soup for two out of three meals.”
    “The cook?”
    “No,” Donovan growled. “My wife.”
    Aiden