“Better.” She tugged Hecate inside, leaving Edmund and Finn staring at each other.
“Well then.” Edmund cleared his throat.
“Ah, yes. Um…very good of you to have us, my Lord.”
Edmund sighed and rolled his eyes. “Come on in. And it’s Edmund, lad. Hecate wouldn’t have brought you if you weren’t someone special in her life. So let’s start as we mean to go on.” He held out his hand. “Welcome to Ridlington Chase, Finn Casey. And I hope you’re ready for the chaos within.”
Finn, fighting the cowardly urge to turn tail and run back to Doireann Vale, nodded his thanks. “I survived Waterloo. What could be worse?”
“Good point,” answered Edmund, leading him through an impressive hall.
A yell, a thundering of feet on the grand staircase and a yelp as a puppy arrived at the bottom, skidding on the tiles, closely followed by a young lad, obviously the source of the yell.
Behind him came a little girl, yelling just as loudly, and waving a wooden sword. “I caught, you Hugh. You my pwisoner.”
“Am not,” insisted Hugh. “My trusty wizard turned you into a sheep before you picked up your sword.”
“Don’t want to be a sheep. Sheep smell nasty.”
“But then again,” observed the Baron as he calmly watched the trio gallop away into another room, “children are a unique battle all their own.”
All Finn could do was nod and follow his host.
