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Lily had gone gladly to her betrothed's warm, accepting household.
    "You've become smaller, Miss Jean," Jemmy said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"You're just a little bit of a thing."
    "You're not so very tall yourself, Mr. King," she retorted.
"But Breeda wrote that you're the most sought-after jockey in the south of
France."
    "I am that," he said with great satisfaction. "And turning into a
fair trainer, too."
    Moses, always the leader of the quartet, gestured toward the two carriages waiting behind them.
"Come, Miss Jean, we will take you home."
    His lanky frame had filled out into the solid muscles of a man. Moses had been born in Zanzibar as the eldest son of a shrewd merchant who had moved his family and the headquarters of his trading empire to France when Moses was six.
    As acknowledged heir to the business, Moses had been given a first-class education and spoke several languages. Then he had been kidnapped into thralldom. After Moses's release, he and his family had taken in the other thralls, who had nowhere else to go. The four young people had flourished, recovering from their enslavement as they matured to full adulthood.
    The rest of the day passed quickly as they traveled to Moses's family compound and settled in. The sprawling Fontaine household had multiple courtyards that contained fountains and gardens. Moses said it was modeled after the family compound in Zanzibar. Jean was entranced by the way inside and outside flowed together. Not like Scotland, where a house's main purpose was to keep the weather safely outside.
    Moses's parents greeted Jean as if she had personally saved their son's life instead of merely being his tutor. The Falconers were the true rescuers; if Meg and Simon ever came to Marseilles, they would be treated like royalty. In the meantime, the Fontaines lavished their gratitude on Jean.
    After a sumptuous dinner that combined the best of French cooking with some African dishes spiced differently from anything Jean had ever tasted, the elders tactfully withdrew so that Jean and her four friends could talk in private. The salon where they gathered had a balcony open to the mild night air. As Jean sipped excellent sherry, she thought she could become very fond of Mediterranean living.
    The weddings were still weeks away, but the three women discussed the details until Jemmy and Moses looked ready to flee. Taking pity on the men, Jean turned the topic to magic.
"I see a shimmer of energy connecting you. Do you still feel as closely linked
as when you were in England?"
    The four exchanged glances. "Yes, though it's different from when Lord Drayton had us enthralled," Lily said.
    "And God be thanked for that!" Breeda added.
    "We are always aware of one another's feeling and presence," Moses said,
"but we've had no need to meld our powers."
    "So we've not killed anyone lately," Jemmy finished with acid humor.
    "I'm glad to hear that." Jean took another sip of sherry, knowing that wasn't a joke.
"But you've become most adept at finishing one another's sentences."
    Moses shrugged. "We are part of one another, Miss Jean. Marriage is the logical next step." His warm gaze went to Lily.
    Breeda reached out to take Jemmy's hand. "We would wither
if separated."
    Power made it possible for mates to join with special intensity. Jean had seen that among the Guardian families, most closely with her parents and now her brother and his wife. She had loved Robbie, and his death had left a hole in her heart that no other man had ever filled. Losing him had devastated her, so perhaps it was just as well that marriage to a Guardian wasn't in her future. If the closeness was greater than she'd known with him, loss would be beyond bearing.
    "Have you studied magic since coming here?" Though individually none of them but Moses had unusual power, when they worked together they were rather terrifying.
"I've wondered, but, of course, it's not the sort of thing one can ask in a
letter."
    "Several