Siofra woke early the next morning, as the sun was just painting ribbons of orange and yellow across the sky. If they returned to London, she would have to keep ton hours again, up until dawn, sleep until noon. She abhorred that lifestyle. Another reason to remain in the country.

After turning her room upside down, she could find her trousers nowhere. She rang the bell pull and waited.

When Kelley saw the state of her room, drawers turned out, closet wide open, she gasped. “Miss, what happened?”

“I cannot find my trousers, and I wish to go for a walk. It’s most uncomfortable traipsing about with wet dress hems.”

Kelley chuckled. “Now, Miss, you are no more worried about those dresses than I am that me mum will meet Prinny.” She reached to the top of the closet and pulled down a hat box. “With you dead asleep, we thought it best to hide those trousers from anyone visitin’ your room. Here you go and a long shirt as well.”

“Thank you. Have you seen my boots?”

“Down in the pantry, polished and free of mud.”

“Hopefully, they will stay that way today. Has it rained while I was sleeping?”

“Not much. It’s a good day for a walkabout…but don’t overdo on yer first day out.”

“Promise.”

Kelley was coming along nicely as well. A month ago, Siofra couldn’t say boo without the young woman trembling with nerves. Now, look at her, telling her mistress not to over-exert herself. Positively brimming with self-fortitude. Had Siofra’s own recent show of courage emboldened her retainers?

How would they feel if she up and moved the household to London? The fey wouldn’t accompany them. Siofra had always thought it odd that Mama’s favorite cook refused to care for the family in London. Now she knew. Brownies did not travel.

Siofra neatly avoided an outcropping of rocks that would scuff her newly shined boots. Why make extra work for the servants if she could avoid it?

She breathed deeply of the crisp country air. Thank the Lord, her throat and lungs no longer pained her. It was such a joy to walk briskly and strengthen one’s body. She chuckled to no one but a few birds. Not one young lady of her acquaintance would welcome physical activity for the sole purpose of being strong enough for more physical activity. And yet, she loved it!

How could she ever consider the idea of London when she’d just found so many reasons to enjoy her home in the country? And that brought her to the most vexing conundrum. Her parentage. After nearly choking to death on a mouthful of iron-fortified cake, she could safely accept the notion that she had fey blood. Were her parents of fey heritage as well? Was she a changeling? It was a mystery.

She reached for a stout stick and waved it about as if jousting. What if her solicitor had the answers she needed? Surely her parents would have left a communique with him to be passed to Siofra upon her twentieth birthday. She could but ask him. He may withhold the information for four months, but she wouldn’t know if she didn’t ask. She would pen a letter this very evening.

When she wandered out of the trees to find the clearing where she expected to meet Lysander, a soft cry of wonder broke out of her mouth. He had arranged brightly colored blankets and pillows on the ground near the stream. Vivid hues of blue, green, violet, and pink offered a cheery venue.

She walked forward, removed her boots, and settled on the ground against a mound of cushions. “Mmm, how luxurious this feels.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Lysander materialized beside her, holding a cup of water. “Are you thirsty? How’s your throat?”

Siofra laughed. “Yes, and fine. How did you know I was coming?”

“You projected your intentions.”

“I did what!”

“I felt your concentrated attention toward me, that you’d soon see me.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure I like that. Are you saying you read my mind?”

“Not at all. It’s like when you call for me. Even though I can’t see you because you’re far away, I hear you because I’m listening. I knew you were coming today because I felt…heard…your intentions.”

That sounded an awful lot like the soul friend Maeve had mentioned. Anam cara. Were she and Lysander somehow connected?

She kept her gaze fixed on the water tumbling over rocks, not at all sure how to respond.

“Siofra?”

“Yes?”

“A wall suddenly coalesced in your mind. Which is somewhat troubling, as you are the most forthcoming young woman I’ve ever met.”

Her head jerked to meet his gaze. “A lady does not reveal her—” She laughed. “Sorry, I often hear Lady Gretchen in my head.” She lifted one shoulder. “There is no wall. I am merely attempting to digest the news that my thoughts are so…available to you. Although, what does it matter? I owe you so many favors already I could never repay. Pray, do not haul me before the fey courts and demand recompense.” Could he do that? Her laugh sounded nervous, even to her.

“What need have I of courts when I have your name? Siofra Blàrach, tell me the names of your parents.”

“Lemuel and Emelia Blàrach.” Siofra’s eyes rounded, and her hand rose to cover her mouth. “I replied without thinking. Why did I do that?”

“You gave me your name the first day we met.” His eyes twinkled with dark lights as he leaned close. “Must not give the fey your name. Must not give the fey your thanks. Must not accept fey gifts. Must not accept fey food or drink. Must not ever EVER dance with the fey. Siofra Blàrach, would you care to dance?”

“Must not. But I feel strangely motivated to accept your request. Is that because you used my name?”

“You’re learning.”

“Lysander, take off your shoes.”

“Must not give the fey your shoes.” He winked at her then nudged her boots, lying next to her.

“Two things. You did not do as I commanded…so Lysander is not your name. Why would the fey want my shoes?”

“The right shoes help you find true love, which the fey could use against you in oh, so many ways. Lysander is truly my name. But it’s not my proper name. When I give you my name, it will be yours.”

“That makes no sense whatsoever.”

He merely stared blankly at her.

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I guess you’ve answered enough riddles for one day. What’s my tally?”

“I stopped counting the day I saved you from the wolf.”

“I suppose someday I’ll have to save you.”

“May our encounters never come to that end.”

“True.”

She collapsed against the cushions and drank in the deep blue sky, made only more beautiful by the wispy white clouds that floated past them as if they had all the time in the world. That’s how she felt today. She had all the time in the world. The troll was gone. She had reached an accord with Lady Gretchen. She need not return to London until time for the release of her inheritance. She was in the most magical place she’d ever seen. Truly magical.

“Show me.”

He waved a hand, and she gasped as the bridge suddenly filled with several creatures and the colorful medieval town manifested on the other side. “Is that all it takes? You gesture with your hand, and the realm appears?”

“Not at all. I waved my hand merely for you. I need do nothing but think it into existence.”

“Could I do that?”

“I thought you weren’t racking up any more tallies.” He snapped his fingers, and the fey world vanished.

“I could never match you anyway. Why do the fey speak in riddles?”

“They can’t lie, so they protect themselves by couching the truth in ways that obscure facts they would rather not relate.”

“You can tell me anything. Obviously, I’m harmless.”

“Says the woman who destroyed a troll on her own. That alone would earn you many favors in the Seelie court.”

Siofra flipped over on her side. “Truly? What about my origin?”

His eyes took on that hooded look she so despised. Obviously, her origin was taboo today.

“Can you not be satisfied with what you have?”

“Are you?” she asked, sitting up. She waved her hand where the bridge should be. “What do you do over there? Do you have a house? A family?” She gasped. “Are you married? Do you have children?”

Lysander held up his hand, extending one finger at a time. “Work. Yes. No. No. No.”

Siofra laughed. “Sorry…Oops! I mean…I wasn’t thinking about how many questions I asked. Do you want to ask me something?”

“No.”

She laughed again. It seemed to be her day for laughter, a welcome change. “Remember the concept of polite conversation I mentioned? You are still sadly lacking.”

“Why speak only to speak?”

“It has a purpose. One discovers whether or not one suits members of the opposite sex. Is someone a trite bore or capable of interesting ondits? Personally, I would prefer not to marry a man who loves his hounds and horse more than he would love his wife. Or a man who wishes to marry me only to further his own estate because his pockets are to let. Or worse, a man who has continuous affairs.”

“You’ve given the matter of marriage a great deal of thought.”

“Wrong again. I have endured countless lectures from Lady Gretchen on the desirability of a suitable match. Women are like possessions. When you marry, you are owned. It’s much better to get along with one’s owner.”

“And you wish to marry?”

The intimate question felt completely natural, coming from him, and she didn’t mind answering. “I did. Then my parents died and I realized I don’t have to. I will have enough income to maintain a genteel lifestyle.” She shrugged. “There is always Rob Redgrave. His father, the earl, feels I should be repaid for saving Rob by marrying into the family. I declined his kind offer.”

“You are firmly entrenched in the human world. Why would you seek your…origins?”

First, he refused to speak of it, and now he brings it up. There is no understanding men…or elves.

“I feel anchorless. Less so, since I met you. But knowing that I might belong…I don’t know how to explain it. I have an insatiable curiosity.”

“A dangerous commodity in the fey world, particularly in the Seelie Court, where motives are obscured.”

“Then I suppose the fey are exactly like humans. No one ever says what they really think.”

“And you do?”

“Ha!” she blurted out then covered her mouth with her hand. “Of course not, lest I get another lecture from Lady Gretchen. What of you?”

“When I speak, I say exactly what I think.”

She shook her finger at him. “But not all of what you think or I would know much more than I do.” She held out her hand. “Let us make a pact to always say what we think…to each other.”

He stared at her hand as if it were a viper. “That is a dangerous pact. Are you certain you understand the significance of a pact to the fey? There are dire repercussions for breaking one.”

“But, it’s me. What could go wrong? Can we not have just one person in the world that we truly trust?”

His head jerked. “You trust me? Ah, Siofra, your innocence has undone me in one fell stroke.”

Her hand dropped to the blanket. “I don’t understand. You make sure I always arrive home safely. You saved my life from the wolf. You explained the danger of Mr. Paorach, the troll. You come when I call you. You let me speak and do things that society prevents, of unparalleled importance to me.” She spread her hand over the blanket. “You make my time with you comfortable. Lysander, you are a true friend. Why would I not trust you?”

“You speak of things you don’t understand. The greatest gift you can give the fey is your trust. Now, I am beholden to you. I must accept your pact, though I fear where it will take us. Consider carefully before you answer. I know your name. Already, I can compel you to my will, to a small degree. If you add this pact to the power I already have over you…” He shook his head. “You will be at my mercy, and you know nothing of my motives in this life or the world from which I come.”

His words stirred a fear she’d never known. Was he the manipulative figure he painted himself? To use her for his own ends? Was her judgment so warped?

“You’re right. I was incredibly naïve. I guess I’m always naïve. Lady Gretchen certainly thinks so.” She reached for her boots, shoes that could help her find true love. What a fool, she was.

“Siofra, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Leave? I’ve been here long enough. It will be dark soon.”

“Don’t leave…broken.”

He reached for her, and Siofra fell into his arms, unable to halt the instant flow of tears. Why was life so disappointing?

“I will be your champion, your confidant.” His hands comforted, running through her long hair, down her back, patting uncertainly. “Please?”

At that, she stilled then laughed, pulling back to look into his eyes. “You know better.”

He said it again. “Please…be my confidant?”

“I will agree to think on it. You made a strong point.” She removed herself from his arms and wiped her eyes. “And you think on this. I want to visit that world.” She pointed toward the bridge.

“I will agree to think on it.”