Vinni nodded.

"-with your tutors, you might be able to read the boys a little, evade faster, take glancing blows."

Wincing, Vinni nodded. "Duck and roll," he said gloomily and marched through the door that led to a corridor to the courtyard.

A piercing, girlish shriek met them as they stepped into the inner rectangle. A young woman was bouncing with excitement as she tore open Antenn's gift. When the model appeared she squealed again. "Come look!" A small crowd gathered.

"Very good work, son," said one of the beefy Clover men.

"See the detail!" Trif said, pointing out tiny gla.s.s lanterns that held equally tiny lightspells. Antenn stood tall. He smirked at Straif and Vinni.

"I'm bigger than he is," Vinni muttered. "I have more Flair."

"He's in the midst of Family, and he's older," Straif said.

Vinni sighed. "I am an only child. My cuzes are a lot older than me, too. And they're girls."

Straif patted his shoulder again. "Then your sight told you true. These boys can be very good for you." A bunch of them stood a couple of meters away, studying Straif and Vinni. Their clothes looked dusty as if they'd already had a tussle or two.

"Fresh meat," Vinni muttered, shifted his shoulders again. "Duck and roll." Then he glanced up at Straif. "These Clovers could be very good for you, too. The difference between us is that I'll let them be my friends. Will you?" He shrugged out from under Straif's hand and went to meet his fate.

Mitch.e.l.la separated herself from those around Trif and walked back to Straif, hooking her arm in his. He thought he'd met his fate, too.

"Don't be concerned." Mitch.e.l.la leaned against him, and thoughts of Vinni's plight would have faded from his mind if he hadn't been watching the boy. Mitch.e.l.la nearby was always a distraction.

She nibbled at his earlobe, and his blood heated to racing speed. "We Clovers aren't mean, and the battle won't be all against one, see?"

Sure enough, the boys had split into two teams and walked to a corner of the yard where a large patch of dirt showed a gamefield. Though small and of different coloring, Antenn looked like he belonged. Vinni was dressed casually-for a GreatLord-but his tunic and trous didn't look anything like the other boys' tough play clothes.

The mock battle began. Straif tensed with every blow Vinni took, flinched when the whole bunch of boys piled on each other, with him near the bottom. Straif and Mitch.e.l.la were the only adults truly watching the engagement; the others concentrated on their own concerns.

Slowly the boys untangled. Vinni's team had obviously lost. Antenn grinned and shrieked in glee, hopping up and down.

"Nothing like a gracious winner," Straif muttered.

Mitch.e.l.la chuckled.

Vinni lay on the ground, bleeding from a cut lip. The biggest Clover boy, who'd been on the opposite team, held out a hand. Vinni clasped it and was hauled to his feet. The Clover wiped blood from his nose with his palm, spit on it, and said, "Friends." Vinni stared at the boy's palm, swiped his hand across his lip, spit in it, and grabbed the boy's hand. "Friends," he said.

"That is so disgusting," Mitch.e.l.la said, then turned to Straif and said, "Let's go converse, have fun. We'll eat and drink, and later we will be very, very merry." She towed him off to a crowd of relatives.

Once word spread that Straif was donating trees "from an ancient FirstFamily estate" for the Clover's grove, any wariness the Clovers had vanished. He was thanked more than once, with sincere grat.i.tude. The Clover Family observed him and Mitch.e.l.la, but no one seemed to warn her against him. Even her parents were warm and welcoming.

As the party wound down, Antenn decided to stay overnight. The Clovers invited Vinni to stay, too. A glider from the T'Vines arrived with two bodyguards who were made welcome.

Straif stared at the Clovers disappearing into different houses. They obviously enjoyed life-and each other. The number of people who had filled the courtyard was incredible. Straif had never seen so many people all belonging to one Family. True, other Family reunions would be large, but they would consist of nine or ten branches that had grown incrementally over four centuries. To his knowledge, this was only four lines, others were flourishing in Wales and Brittany.

He caught his breath. Mitch.e.l.la came from this Family. Mitch.e.l.la, the woman he cared for deeply.

A wonderful, warm feeling started at his center and moved outward-hope, something he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Maybe he'd found his cure in this woman, this wonderful Commoner who came from such substantial genes. If any group of genes could dominate his own, could fight the virus, he'd bet it would be the Clovers'. Children with Mitch.e.l.la's blood might be safe.

He was nearly giddy with the thought. Then she walked to him, smiling, hips swaying, invitation in her eyes and body, and all he could think about was the woman herself.

Twenty-one.

During the next week, Mitch.e.l.la had never been happier in her life. Refurbishing the Residence continued to be a dream come true.

Every day the Residence's mental voice came clearer. To her amazement she found that restoring the house on a tiny budget was more fun as well as more of a challenge than if she'd had unlimited funds. Any designer could have returned the Residence to uncommon beauty with no expense spared, but she didn't think that anyone could have done better than she with such budget constraints. Further, it was her best project. Straif's obvious comfort and pleasure in his home touched her heart.

Then there were the gifts from Straif's allies that trickled in-usually exquisite pieces from the FirstFamilies, many new, some antique. From these, she got the idea that most of the highest n.o.bles in the land were supporting him-or at least keeping the appearance of doing so. Danith informed Mitch.e.l.la that many of the sn.o.bbish were appalled at the thought of a lower-cla.s.s man trying to take Straif's t.i.tle away.

Antenn seemed happy. He helped her with the Residence, and she made sure the Cang Zhus counted it as part of his apprenticeship hours. Every morning that he went to the CZs she sent a holo of the work he'd done. She believed the architectural firm was getting vicarious pleasure looking at the Residence, and knew gossip was spreading that they had holos . . . excellent for everyone's business.

Even Drina was easier to work with. The little cat made her preferences known in no uncertain terms, but Mitch.e.l.la managed to eke out a compromise or two. The Fam spent most of her time with Straif, demanding petting, curling to nap on his lap when he worked in his ResidenceDen, sometimes sneaking into the bed during the middle of the night and sleeping next to Straif. He relaxed under her and Drina's affection.

Her love affair with Straif kept her dizzy with delight-her body in a state of aching awareness or well-pleasured vitality. Their loving ran the gamut of slow and tender hours on her bedsponge to fast and hard in a large closet. She knew she was far too in love with him to keep her heart safe and unbroken, so she concentrated on wringing the pleasure out of every moment she spent with him, whether it was in breakfast conversation or running her hands over his long, lean body. He acted differently-bringing her flowers, taking her on an impromptu picnic, and to her knowledge he hadn't pursued any other avenues to find a remedy for his flawed gene. She didn't know what to think of that, but was grateful his quest wasn't a difficulty between them.

One morning she was working in the parlor she used as her office, inventorying art pieces Straif could sell if necessary. Straif had spent a lot of gilt lately. He walked in, eyes narrowed and stride as wary as if he were treading a forest path of untamed Celta. Drina was hunkered down on his shoulder, hissing lowly.

"Bad news," he said as he sat in a chair opposite her desk.

Mitch.e.l.la glanced at the wall timer. "I deduce that your morning talk with T'Reed didn't go well. I know the budgets and progress reports we've been sending to the man have been excellent."

Straif grunted. "Too excellent, I'm afraid. We've made incredible progress, kept within my budget. They've moved the date for the open house up on us."

Her fingers clutching the writestick began to shake, and she hid her hands under the desk. "When?"

"Spring equinox."

"That's in two weeks!" Her voice was so shrill it hurt her own ears.

Drina yowled.

Nodding grimly, Straif said, "Right. The grounds are still a mess. All the structural problems of the estate have been addressed, but-"

"-we still have a lot of cosmetic work to do. Not to mention the ballroom."

"No, we won't mention it."

"I'd planned on using that room for the refreshments, a buffet and tables. We've started remodeling, but there's still a lot of negativity there, we need a priest and priestess . . ." She'd lost him. He was staring out the window behind her. She'd given Antenn the ballroom project. He seemed less affected by the chamber and knew exactly what she planned.

Drina walked down Straif's chest to his lap then back and forth across his thighs, rubbing against him. Absently he lifted his hand to stroke her. The cat purred loudly, and Straif's expression became less strained.

Mitch.e.l.la nibbled on her bottom lip and began listing things that would have to be done, numbering them by priority. "T'Ash planned a Ritual for spring equinox."

"I contacted him. He graciously conceded the date to us."

"Oh."

Straif glanced around the room. "We'll have to concentrate more on the public rooms." His smile was wintry. "The Family Suites-Master, Mistrys and Heir-will be off-limits. The library can be a gathering place for the more introverted. A couple of the parlors for smaller groups."

They hadn't touched the library. It was a large room, full of books, holos, art, and artifacts. Mitch.e.l.la moved it to the top of her list.

"Can the Great Hall be done in two weeks?"

She smiled with more a.s.surance than she felt in the chill pit of her stomach. "I'll do it myself. Have you told the cook?"

Straif laughed, and his expression lightened even more. "He went pale. I think he wanted to pa.s.s out, but he said he could make a tasty spread and started muttering to himself. He'll be fine. I'm going to walk the estate again, see what can be done in the time allowed. The gliderdrive must be trimmed. I know we planned gardens in the large area behind the Residence, but we'll only have time enough to develop a gra.s.syard."

"That can be beautiful, and well decorated. It's large enough to hold everyone you'd care to invite. If the day is good."

"I'll have to inst.i.tute a weathershield if it's cold or rainy. That expanse, and the view of the Residence from there, is the most well-known part of the estate. It must be as perfect as possible. The wall supporting the terrace and the terrace itself must look to be completely restored as well as the steps down to the river."

Mitch.e.l.la rose and walked behind Straif. She kissed the top of his head, set her hands on his shoulders, and worked at his knotted muscles.

There was a moment of humming silence, then Straif said, "Thank you. You've already made the Residence so much more a home, as well as a show place. We'll win my t.i.tle back."

Drina meowed.

"Drina will help."

"Of course," Mitch.e.l.la choked at the thought of the Fam's "help." "I'd like to use Antenn more, if that's all right."

"Fine."

The scrybowl on Mitch.e.l.la's desk played a melodious tune. She brushed another kiss against Straif's temple, then went to the bowl and circled her finger around the rim, accepting the call. "Here," she said.

T'Reed's sour face projected above the bowl. He blinked, then focused on Straif, who sat slightly behind and to one side of Mitch.e.l.la.

"Greetyou, GentleLady. Blackthorn, there's a new condition that just came up."

"What now? I know the other claimant is behind this, what more of a burden does he place on my back?"

T'Reed's lips thinned, his eyes flickered, his nostrils pinched. "Think of this from another perspective, if you manage to address every concern AllCla.s.s Council has-and I agree they are more than many Lords and Ladies antic.i.p.ated-you will be completely validated."

"Right. What next?"

The sound of shuffling papyrus came over the scrybowl. "It has been brought to the Councils' attention that the first structure ever erected on the Blackthorn estate was the little Summer Folly, halfway down the path to the river. AllCla.s.s Council is most particular that this structure be available for inspection during the open house."

Straif's face set in granite. "I hear you."

Drina leapt from his lap to land on Mitch.e.l.la's desk. She slapped the surface of the water in the scrybowl with her paw, breaking the call, then stalked the desk, hissing.

"I don't recall a folly," Mitch.e.l.la said. She'd seen no small decorative building in the grounds.

Smiling bleakly, Straif said, "It fell to ruin in my FatherSire's time." He stood. "I'll go look at it now. My father once said it would need specialists to restore." He jerked a nod to Mitch.e.l.la. "I'd be grateful if you mapped a strategy to address the additional demands upon us, please."

His body was stiff, he didn't want to be touched. Best for him was sheer professionalism. "I'll do that."

He gave a little half bow. "My thanks."

Mitch.e.l.la worked through the morning, making lists, examining the library. With a molecular cleaning, a little rearranging, and a bit of a glisten-glamour spell, it could look comfortably shabby-a style she could make seem deliberate-as if it had been in use and loved for its ambience for centuries. That could definitely save time.

When Straif arrived for midday meal, his demeanor wasn't nearly as somber as Mitch.e.l.la expected, and the very steadiness of the man quieted her own frantic nerves. She explained her idea about the library to Straif and received a penetrating gaze and a quiet smile.

"I have an idea about the folly," he said. "But I want to do some research with the ResidenceLibrary and the city GreatLibrary before I-ah-present it to you."

Intrigued, Mitch.e.l.la raised her brows.

Straif shrugged, but his complexion turned ruddy. "I'll be back in two hours. Can you be here?"

"Yes, I haven't finished organizing and inventorying the storerooms. The Residence and I have lists of what is in the first couple of rooms, and anything in the last two centuries, but not what is contained inside the fields of the oldest preservation spells. I'll be in the attic."

"It's not too hot up there?"

"No, not yet."

He nodded, then excused himself.

Midafternoon, Mitch.e.l.la was back at her desk. She'd stood under the waterfall and changed her heavy working clothes for a soft short-tunic and trous in teal. She felt the heat of Straif's gaze and looked up to see him standing at the threshold of the room. He, too, had changed. He wore a robe of bronze that made his tanned skin golden. He looked like a G.o.d.

Her heart thudded hard in her chest. How easily he stirred her. A glance, a thought.

Instinctively she smiled, believed all her love showed in her face and hoped he would not understand how much she cared. When she met his eyes, they held a banked wildness that ignited a flash of desire.

He wet his lips, and she clenched inside; her b.r.e.a.s.t.s grew heavy.

When he spoke, his voice was rough. "I found a ritual that will restore the Summer Folly. I need you to perform it with me as Lady to my Lord."

She swallowed. "Just the two of us?"

"Yes," he whispered. His gaze dropped to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"I don't have great Flair."