blindly and reporting back to its master when it found something suspicious…like a house that it could not enter?
The fog thickened and assaulted the windows again. Alasdair was sure he could see the glass deforming under its pressure, but it held firm. Were they of better quality than the glass in other houses or was something else keeping it out? He couldn’t be sure, but he could guess. This was the dwelling of a magic wielder. Nothing could enter it without her permission.
He smiled grimly and settled himself more comfortably in the chair to watch the fog curl uncertainly around the house. It had to be something of Mahtahdou’s who was master of the insubstantial and ghostly, of images and shadows. Let it search all night if it wanted. It would never find him. And when Garland came home—
He sat up quickly, ignoring the pain in his sides. Lir’s breath! Garland was out somewhere in this. It could not touch her house, but to be out there in the very thick of it, surrounded by Mahtahdou’s foul air…
He looked at Conn, still sleeping peacefully under Garland’s cloth picture. Then, step by painful step, he left the room and inched his way down the stairs to the front door. Garland had saved him. The least he could do was try to help her.
* * *
To Garland’s relief, the rest of their dinner went smoothly. Since they showed no signs of doing anything more titillating than talking a great deal, the other diners finally seemed to forget they were there. Garland kept her concern for Alasdair under control though she very nearly called him from her cell phone in the ladies’ room. The food was delicious, far better now than in summer when the chefs were more rushed. Likewise, the noise level was more tolerable and the service friendlier and more relaxed.
“I can begin to see why the year-round population has such a love-hate relationship with the summer people,” Garland commented as they walked back to Rob’s car. It was a warm evening for March. She lifted her head and took a deep breath of the soft, moist air. A faint mist swirled in the glare of the parking lot’s lights.
“It’s true. They bring lots of money, but they bring themselves too. Most businesses on Cape Cod earn three-quarters of their income between mid-June and early September. But we get the best to ourselves during spring and fall. There’s nothing more beautiful than September in Mattaquason. I can’t wait to show you.” He smiled that slow smile again as he opened the car door for her, and Garland felt a flutter of anticipation.
The mist thickened into fog as they rolled out of downtown and toward Eldredge Point. Her house shimmered as Rob pulled into her driveway, every window spilling light into the moist night air so that it looked like it had a halo.
“I promised Alasdair I’d leave all the lights on,” she explained. How had he and Conn done without her? Had they gone to sleep the way she’d told them to?
“Oh. Well.” Rob put the car into park and turned to her, his face half-lit from the bright post lights on either side of the front walk. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“Thank you, Rob. It—” She suddenly felt tongue-tied.
He made a small move toward her—just a small one—and she realized he was letting her decide if she wanted to kiss him goodnight.
Of course she did. Why else had she ordered sesame-crusted tuna instead of garlicky shrimp scampi at dinner? She leaned toward him, and his hand reached up to cradle her cheek. His quick kiss the other day had been a promissory note for this one, she knew. It was going to be good.
It was good. Rob’s lips took hers gently but eagerly, with just enough heat to let her know what he wanted from her some day. Garland closed her eyes, waiting for the warm glow of anticipation in her midsection to build into excitement.
But nothing happened.
“Wow,” Rob murmured a few minutes later, coming up for air. “That was even better than I’d dreamed
The fog thickened and assaulted the windows again. Alasdair was sure he could see the glass deforming under its pressure, but it held firm. Were they of better quality than the glass in other houses or was something else keeping it out? He couldn’t be sure, but he could guess. This was the dwelling of a magic wielder. Nothing could enter it without her permission.
He smiled grimly and settled himself more comfortably in the chair to watch the fog curl uncertainly around the house. It had to be something of Mahtahdou’s who was master of the insubstantial and ghostly, of images and shadows. Let it search all night if it wanted. It would never find him. And when Garland came home—
He sat up quickly, ignoring the pain in his sides. Lir’s breath! Garland was out somewhere in this. It could not touch her house, but to be out there in the very thick of it, surrounded by Mahtahdou’s foul air…
He looked at Conn, still sleeping peacefully under Garland’s cloth picture. Then, step by painful step, he left the room and inched his way down the stairs to the front door. Garland had saved him. The least he could do was try to help her.
* * *
To Garland’s relief, the rest of their dinner went smoothly. Since they showed no signs of doing anything more titillating than talking a great deal, the other diners finally seemed to forget they were there. Garland kept her concern for Alasdair under control though she very nearly called him from her cell phone in the ladies’ room. The food was delicious, far better now than in summer when the chefs were more rushed. Likewise, the noise level was more tolerable and the service friendlier and more relaxed.
“I can begin to see why the year-round population has such a love-hate relationship with the summer people,” Garland commented as they walked back to Rob’s car. It was a warm evening for March. She lifted her head and took a deep breath of the soft, moist air. A faint mist swirled in the glare of the parking lot’s lights.
“It’s true. They bring lots of money, but they bring themselves too. Most businesses on Cape Cod earn three-quarters of their income between mid-June and early September. But we get the best to ourselves during spring and fall. There’s nothing more beautiful than September in Mattaquason. I can’t wait to show you.” He smiled that slow smile again as he opened the car door for her, and Garland felt a flutter of anticipation.
The mist thickened into fog as they rolled out of downtown and toward Eldredge Point. Her house shimmered as Rob pulled into her driveway, every window spilling light into the moist night air so that it looked like it had a halo.
“I promised Alasdair I’d leave all the lights on,” she explained. How had he and Conn done without her? Had they gone to sleep the way she’d told them to?
“Oh. Well.” Rob put the car into park and turned to her, his face half-lit from the bright post lights on either side of the front walk. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“Thank you, Rob. It—” She suddenly felt tongue-tied.
He made a small move toward her—just a small one—and she realized he was letting her decide if she wanted to kiss him goodnight.
Of course she did. Why else had she ordered sesame-crusted tuna instead of garlicky shrimp scampi at dinner? She leaned toward him, and his hand reached up to cradle her cheek. His quick kiss the other day had been a promissory note for this one, she knew. It was going to be good.
It was good. Rob’s lips took hers gently but eagerly, with just enough heat to let her know what he wanted from her some day. Garland closed her eyes, waiting for the warm glow of anticipation in her midsection to build into excitement.
But nothing happened.
“Wow,” Rob murmured a few minutes later, coming up for air. “That was even better than I’d dreamed
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