covers around him. “But Gregor says not as big as his.”
“I should hope not.” Marianna smiled down at him. “You would need to stand on the top rim of the fountain to mount him.” She brushed his hair back from his face. “But you mustn’t be disappointed if you have to keep your pony. Horses cost a good deal of money, and we have no right to ask anything of these people.”
“We don’t have to ask; they just give to us.” Alex yawned. “And Jordan won’t mind. He told me he got his first horse when he was five, but he still rode his pony until he was too heavy for it.”
“Why did he do that?”
“He said you don’t desert your old friends when new ones come.” Alex smiled sleepily. “So I won’t have to give up Keely. I’ll just make a new friend.”
“You’re making a good many friends here, aren’t you?”
Alex nodded. “They like us.” He frowned. “But I worry a little. Mama always said not to take unless you could give. I’ve been taking, Marianna.”
She had been taking, too, she realized suddenly. Jordan had promised her protection for Alex, but he had also given kindness. He had brought them here to safety and treated Alex like an indulged younger brother.
But he had done it only because of the Jedalar.
No, he could have merely supplied her with a place to work. He had sensed she would not be able to resist the opportunity to create, to perfect her craft. He didn’t have to be either kind or generous to them.
Perhaps he had been kind because he wanted her in
But there had been nothing calculated in his lust; it had been as swift rising as a summer storm. When he had realized the storm would hurt her, he had sent it away.
“Marianna, what can I give him?” Alex asked. “He has so much…”
“Take your time. He won’t return until spring. You’ll think of something,” she said gently. She bent and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Surprises are always best. Good night, Alex.”
She blew out the candle and moved toward the door.
Alex was far wiser than she, she thought resignedly. She had told Jordan she would accept everything and give nothing in return, but she should have known she wouldn’t be able to do it. It would have destroyed something within her. Gifts, no matter for what reason they were given, must be returned. It would have been so much easier if Jordan had remained the enemy who was trying to steal the Window to Heaven. Instead, he had begun to weave himself into their lives until he was now part of the fabric.
If she was to start anew here, she must learn to deal with that truth. He had said they could be friends. It could be that by offering her friendship, he only thought to persuade her to give him the Jedalar. It was far more difficult to refuse a friend than an enemy.
But wouldn’t that also be true of Jordan? Wasn’t he far less likely to use coercion toward her if their relationship were more harmonious?
Harmonious? The word was ludicrous used in connection with Jordan Draken. From the moment she had met him, her life had been fraught with conflict and uncertainty.
Yet on board the
It might be possible.
Well, what news? Have you found her?” Nebrov asked.
“Not precisely.” Costain hesitated. “But I think I may know where she is.”
“Then why isn’t she here?”
“It may be difficult-”
“I don’t want to hear about difficulties. I want to hear about how you conquered them.”
“I had to come to ask if I should broach this particular difficulty.” He paused. “I believe the children may be under the protection of the duke of Cambaron.”
“Draken?” He frowned. He cursed viciously. “Why not? It should come as no surprise, what with the bad fortune that’s plagued me. Are you certain?”
Costain shook his head. “But the duke sailed from Domajo only a few months ago. I made inquiries on the dock, and I was told he had come directly from Talenka.”
“The Window to Heaven.” Nebrov’s lips curled. “Well, at least he didn’t get it either.”
“But he may have gotten the children, if they fled to Talenka after we killed the mother. Draken’s man, Gregor Damek, scoured the shops before he left to buy clothing for a little boy and a young girl. He was in a great hurry because they were sailing at midnight for England.”
“Then he does have them,” Nebrov muttered.
“But does he know what he has?”
“Of course, he knows. He has a connection with Kazan. I’d wager he was sent to Talenka to get the Window to Heaven before I did.” He smiled unpleasantly. “I would have liked to have seen his face when he saw it lying in pieces on the floor.”
“But, if the girl knows the pattern, there’s a possibility she could create another one.”
“No!” Nebrov’s hand clenched on the table. England. Why did Draken have to take the bitch to England, where he could not touch her?
But who said he could not touch her? he thought suddenly. Every stronghold could be breached if one was clever enough, patient enough. Draken was a formidable man, but Nebrov had detected a certain weakness in his character. He would have no compunction about killing an enemy, but he would hesitate in torturing the girl to get information about the Jedalar. He would not force the pace if patience would carry the day, and that weakness might give Nebrov the opportunity he needed.
Nebrov could be patient, too, if the stakes were high enough. Why not let Draken invest the time and effort and then take the prize away from him when the time was ripe?
“I think you must pay a visit to England, Marcus,” he told Costain. “I believe we must learn what’s happening at Cambaron.”
CHAPTER 7
It’s just like you to give us so little notice, Jordan. A house party of seventy-five? Do you expect miracles?” Dorothy asked as she stood on the castle steps and watched Jordan get out of the phaeton. “Didn’t it occur to you that not everyone in the world is waiting to rush to do your bidding?”
“No, I’ve found if you expect miracles, they have a tendency to occur.” He smiled. “Particularly if you’re here to provide them, Dorothy. I was at a masked ball last night, and I suddenly decided it was time to come home. Since you forbid me to come without a bevy of chaperons, I invited the entire party.”
“Your sudden wish to come home is a bit surprising considering you were supposed to be home in the spring, and it’s summer already.”
“Did you miss me?” he teased.
“When have I had time to miss you? I’m far too busy with my own concerns to bother with thoughts of you.” She searched his face. “You look tired.”
“Dissipation.”
“Do you think I don’t know the difference? Have you been ill?”
“Of course not. Perhaps I’m a little tired. I just got back from France yesterday afternoon.”
“That Corsican again.” She waved a hand. “I don’t want to hear about him. When are we to expect these guests?”
“They should be arriving today and tomorrow. The first are probably a few hours behind me.” He started up the
