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bit?”
    Kate nodded eagerly and leaned towards Morgan as he read from the book. It was one of her favorites. She knew it somehow, just as she knew Morgan’s rich, deep voice was suited to reading aloud:
    I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
    Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
    Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
    With sweet musk-roses with eglantine:
    There sleeps Titania sometime of the night
    Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight
    For an hour, she sat mesmerized as he recreated the scene of Shakespeare’s fairy kingdom. Its queen, Titania, chose a flowery woodland bank for her bed, whereupon she seduced her lover, Nick. It mattered not that fairy magic transformed Nick into a lower creature; the same blissful magic blinded Titania to her lover’s defects.
    Bedecking Nick’s crown with flowers, Titania murmurs love words in his ear. Kate imagined two twining vines, the pair of entangled lovers on their grassy bank beneath a swaying canopy. Her heart beat faster, as Morgan leaned close and murmured Titania’s words from another time, another place:
    “Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms ... so doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle gently entwist.”
    She closed her eyes, wishing she might confess her growing feelings for Morgan, praying he might somehow sense her need and thus respond. She heard him shut the book.
    “You must get some sleep. I didn’t mean to keep you up overly late.”
    “Oh, I loved every moment. I wished we didn’t have to stop,” she said wistfully. “I dread the thought of going to sleep again. Whenever I do, I have the same nightmare.”
    “The fire?” His voice held obvious concern.
    “Aye, and something more. There’s cold water rising around me. I’m trying to swim, yet I can’t. I’m too tired. I keep thinking ’twould be so easy to slip under the waves and find peace ...”
    Morgan drew the blankets up around her shoulders. “You’re tired, is all. Sleep now, and I’ll have Mrs. Carey check on you first thing in the morning.”
    He rose to leave, and she heard him pick up the taper holder from the table beside the bed.
    “Sleep well, Faeilean ,” he murmured, lulling her to sleep with his gentle Welsh burr. “Know I’ll let no harm come to you, while you’re in my care.”

Chapter Three
     
    K ATE SLEPT DEEPLY AND awoke late. Since her arrival at the homestead where Morgan and Winnie lived and worked, she felt consolation for the first time, instead of fear. Though her eyes were still wrapped, she heard well enough to ascertain that the dreary rain had stopped at last. When Winnie tiptoed into her room a short time later, Kate’s first request was to have the windows thrown open wide.
    “Mercy!” Winnie exclaimed with real surprise. “Whatever for?”
    “Why, to smell the fields after the rain, of course.” Kate was surprised when a memory of rich, loamy soil came to mind. She aimed what she hoped was a winning smile in the housekeeper’s general direction. “Please, Winnie?”
    “Well … ” Not approving, but anxious to please, the older woman bustled across the room. “Just for a moment, dear. We don’t want you catching a chill.”
    “Thank you,” Kate whispered. The moment the hinges creaked open, she slipped from the bed and fumbled her way towards the source of the cool, moist air pouring into the chamber.
    She felt each smooth, individual wooden joint beneath her bare feet and hesitated when she realized she must be on an upper floor. First levels customarily had sod floors. She didn’t know how she knew such a fact, but she did. Falcon’s Lair must be larger than she had imagined. She gripped the window ledge in both hands and leaned out, feeling her hair whip back in a sudden gust of wind.
    “Oh! ’Tis breezy out. How fresh it smells!” She drew a deep, reverent breath into her lungs. Then she also caught the tangy scent of the sea. Close. Too close. Her hands tightened on the ledge, and she made a