"I couldn't even manage basic small talk." Harper's fingers fidgeted with the teacup handle. "Every time I tried to focus on what he was saying, Reyna would start up again with the 'mate' business, and I'd lose my train of thought. I must have looked like such an idiot."
Not idiots,Reyna huffed indignantly.Just excited. Mate smiled lots. He liked seeing us happy.
"Some humans have natural gifts they're not even aware of." Renee nodded thoughtfully. "Given his connection to music, and the way this Jill, did you say her name is? The way the jackalopecame to him, I'd say Nathan has a touch of wild magic. Animal magic, specifically. The subtle kind that draws creatures to him, makes them trust him."
Magic,Reyna agreed.Mate special.
The revelation settled over Harper like a warm blanket. It explained so much - how comfortable she'd felt around him despite her usual shyness, how naturally Reyna had connected with him, how content Jill seemed in his care.
"So, how did you two meet?" Renee asked, settling back in her chair. "It doesn't sound like it was a chance encounter, given you were at his home. I'm guessing Katerina had something to do with it?"
Harper laughed, the warmth from the tea spreading through her chest. "Actually, it was Becca. She insisted on introducing us since we're both musicians. When she found out I play the harp, she practically dragged me off to his house."
"A harpist and a..." Renee trailed off, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Cellist," Harper supplied, smiling at the memory of Nathan's studio. "He comes from a musical family - both his parents are professional musicians."
Beautiful music,Reyna sighed contentedly in her mind.Like his soul.
Harper's cheeks warmed at her fox's poetic observation. "He has this gorgeous Steinway baby grand that belonged to his great-grandmother. Early 1900s, he said. The tone is incredible - rich and mellow, like honey." She traced the rim of her teacup. "Music runs deep in his blood. You can tell by the way he talks about it, how his whole face lights up when he mentions his students or discusses different composers."
"Seems like quite the artistic legacy," Renee observed, her dark eyes twinkling.
"It is. The piano's been in his family for four generations now." Harper remembered the reverent way Nathan had touched the instrument's polished surface.
A thunderous crash echoed from the kitchen, followed by the distinct sound of metal pans clattering across the floor. Harper jumped in her seat, her heart racing. She glanced at Renee, who stood with one hand covering her face, shoulders slumped.
"It's the brownies." Renee's voice carried a mix of fondness and frustration.
"What?" Harper blinked rapidly. "Becca mentioned them, but... she told me brownies only worked at night when everyone was sleeping? And nobody ever heard them?"
"That's what the stories say, and certainly until a couple of weeks ago, no one ever heard ours." Renee lowered her hand and gave a rueful smile. "Apparently it's a bit different when you have two of them."
Another crash rang out, accompanied by high-pitched giggling.
"Are they fighting?" Harper's eyes widened as she heard what sounded like a whisk being dragged across the tile floor.
"Territorial dispute." Renee sighed. "One's been here since we took over the inn, then another showed up recently. They're still sorting out their respective domains. It's… not going well. Brownies are solitary creatures by nature." Renee drummed her fingers on the counter as another clatter rang out. "In all my years, I've never heard of a house having more than one. It's unheard of."
Harper leaned forward. "So how did you end up with two?"
"We think one hitched a ride with Ethan and Kelly when they came over from England." Renee shook her head. "Brownies get attached to families, you see. They'll follow their chosen household anywhere."
A high-pitched squeal pierced the air, followed by what sounded like a wooden spoon being repeatedly smacked against a pot.
"And now we have... territorial disputes?" Harper winced at particularly loud clang.
"That's putting it mildly." Renee walked to the kitchen door and peered through. "The original brownie claims the entire kitchen as their domain. The new one insists on maintaining 'proper British standards' in food preparation areas. Despite the fact that, traditionally, brownies are Scottish." She made air quotes with her fingers. "It's led to some interesting... disagreements."
"UNHAND THAT SPATULA THIS INSTANT!" A tiny voice shrieked from behind the door.
"MAKE ME, YOU COLONIAL SAVAGE!"
Renee pressed her lips together, clearly trying not to laugh. "They've been having these little kerfuffles for two weeks now. Nothing gets damaged - they're too house-proud for that. But the noise..." She gestured helplessly as what sounded like every pot in the kitchen began a percussion symphony.
Harper grinned. "Kerfuffle, huh?"
A small voice squeaked from the kitchen. "This is MY mixing bowl!"
