Free Whistle Down the Wind (Mystic Moon) by Sibelle Stone

and the crease between her eyes grew deeper.
“It was far too dangerous, and you could have, well, it might have . . .” She
didn’t finish the sentence, but the bleak look she threw in Morgan’s direction
belied the dire consequences.
    “But
everything turned out fine,” Catlin assured her. “Lord Cranbourne is in
excellent health today, despite all the doomsday predictions of what could have
happened.” She gave her sister a peeved look. “Quit fussing about all that and
let’s go home.”
    “That would
be a dangerous mistake,” Griffin interjected. The two women watched him, waiting
for him to continue like sleek, shiny ravens perched upon a limb studying their
quarry. Feeling their eyes upon him, the hair on the back of his neck prickled
a warning. A shudder of alarm crept up his spine. Why did these women bestir
him so much?
    “Pray tell
us why my sister would be in danger were she to return home with me?” Aelwyd
asked.
    Griffin
stood up. “There is more to this tale then a healing.”
    He took a
few steps to face Catlin. Her complexion had blanched. Did she think he
intended to betray her to Morgan? Despite his vow to keep her actions a secret,
he sensed she still didn't trust him.
    He turned
back to face Aelwyd. “There was a disturbance in the gaol last night. Doors
were somehow opened and a powerful wind swept through the lower cells.”
    He watched
Aelwyd’s face carefully for a reaction and was surprised that she displayed
only mild interest.
    “The rushes
and candles were doused, there was a terrible howling sound and it greatly
disturbed the inmates.” He added.
    Morgan
leaned forward. His friend had confided he had no memory of anything that
happened before waking up feeling healthy and refreshed this morning. If Morgan
had truly forgotten what had transpired at the gaol, perhaps it could be used
in Catlin’s favor.
    Griffin
motioned toward Morgan. “Lord Cranbourne has been suffering from an illness,
and when the dust and filth was disturbed, he was overcome by an attack of lung
fever.”
    “That’s why
I’m so grateful to Miss Glyndwr, because if not for her sudden appearance—”
Morgan frowned. “Although I confess, I cannot seem to remember exactly how she
happened to appear in the coach with us.”
    “I was
waiting for Sir Griffin.” Catlin moved to Griffin’s side and entwined her arm
with his.
    The intimate
gesture pushed the blood from his brain to his nether regions, and a rush of
intense heat suffused his body.
    “He
intervened when that horrid man, Bodwell, attacked me.” She looked up at
Griffin, a blissful smile painted on her lips. “He chased my attacker away, and
we discovered we had mutual acquaintances in London. He told me to wait in the
carriage while he fetched you for dinner, and then he would take me home on the
way to the Inn.”
    The easy way
Catlin Glyndwr composed the tale astonished Griffin, yet he admired her quick
thinking at the same time.
    “It was most
fortunate that when she observed your condition, she felt she could be of some
assistance,” Griffin added.
    “Of course,
and bloody right she was.” Crimson color rose from Morgan’s neck to turn his
entire face red. “I apologize, ladies.”
    Aelwyd
tapped her fingers on the table as she watched Catlin and Griffin.
    “I’m pleased
my sister could be of service to you, my lord, but now it’s time she returned
home to her family.”
    “No!” Catlin
objected.
    Griffin
stared at Catlin, amazed at her outburst. While they shared the same sentiment,
he wondered at her motives for suddenly protesting her release, especially since
she’d been so concerned about being able to leave earlier in the day.
    “You have
been invited to stay here at Mabley Hall, but if you feel you must, you may
leave.” Morgan blushed deeper as Aelwyd stood and put her hands on her hips.
    Before she
could speak, Morgan held up one hand to silence her. “I would like to extend my
hospitality to all of your family