Bonded to the Rakian Berserker (Rakian Warrior Mates #3) - Elin Wyn Page 0,43

the heavily guarded Merchant’s ring itself, or someone else here knows that tune.”

Gavin’s face spread into a smile of comprehension. “And there’s a good change that person would be--”

Esme finished for him. “Auntie Layla or the children.”

“It’s a start,” he said, gazing thoughtfully out the window.

She shook her head. “It would be if I was sure I had heard it. But it was just a few notes. Maybe I was wishing, wanting so hard, my mind so desperate for any hint of information that it heard something that wasn’t there.”

He sat back on his heels. “I haven’t noticed you randomly pulling songs out of the air before,” he said. “I’ll check with Jormoi as soon as I can, see if he has any other indications that those wagons ended up here. But for now,” he stood, and then lifted her to her feet. “I’ve been informed that we have just enough time to get changed for dinner.”

Esme sighed as she thought about the other gowns that Ship had bafflingly, magically, created and now lay neatly folded in the clothes press.

She should save the fanciest of them just in case something came up. It was possible she’d be here long enough that they’d need to meet with potential business associates of Declan’s.

The remaining ones, while not as elaborately embroidered as her best, were still less comfortable than the deep blue dress she’d been wearing for travel.

She laughed. “Seriously, I can’t believe that this is comparatively practical,’’ she muttered.

Turning back from the dilemma of the gowns, she found Gavin had already changed to a fresh tunic and splashed water on his face.

“That’s just not fair,” she complained.

“It’s not my fault the women here seem to think it’s reasonable to dress up in all that…” He waved his hand, “stuff.” He finally finished for lacking any better word.

“Just for that, you get to help me change again.”

The smirk fell off his face and adorably his color rose.

And suddenly Esme realized their closeness wouldn’t just be torturing him, but a sore temptation for herself.

“No time for that now,” she chided him. And herself. “Later,” she promised.

The second best gown laced tightly down both sides, the deep red fabric hugging her figure. A heavy belt lay low on her hips, individual metal plates adjoined by links that shifted slightly with every step.

Gavin traced one finger around the lower edge of the belt, his eyes dark.

Esme took his hand, laced her fingers with his and brought it to her mouth.

“Later,” she repeated and led him out the door.

21

“And I’m sure you’ll want to get a sense of the neighborhood,” Declan finished as Mistress Beaton cleared the last of the dinner dishes from the table.

Gavin nodded, only half listening.

What he wanted was to have a minute to contact Jormoi, see how the hunt had gone.

Using an air sled, Jormoi would have had most of the day to begin the search.

If he’d found anything that might take some of the worried strain from Esme’s face.

That worried face that was now turned to him, one eyebrow raised.

A sharp pain in his ankle indicated that he had probably missed a question.

Esme rolled her eyes at him then turned to smile at Declan.

“We both would love to take a look at the neighborhood, or any of the other areas you think we might be interested in. Is the city safe enough that we could start tonight?

Mistress Beaton appeared with a tray filled with a gracefully shaped pitcher, the sweet scent of some spiced fruit drink filling the air as she came towards the table.

“This is a most respectable neighborhood,” the older woman nodded firmly as Esme hurried to help her with the tray. “Still, don’t you need to rest?”

Esme passed steaming mugs to both Gavin and Declan. “I’m far too excited to rest, I’m afraid. Just being here, knowing we’re at the start of a new life? Far, far too excited.”

Mistress Beaton patted her arm. “That’s because you’re young,’’ she explained. “Once you’re older, you’ll know not to go looking for excitement.” On that note, she took the tray and left the room.

Gavin sniffed the mug cautiously.

“It’s just cider,” Esme told him. “Try it, you’ll like it.”

He took a quick sip. “It’s sweet,” he said, nose wrinkled.

“More for me then,” she reached for his mug, but he held it out of her way, took another cautious taste.

“Didn’t say I didn’t like it,” he muttered.

“Are you really coming with us?” Declan asked Esme, as he sipped from his own mug. “Wouldn’t it