"That's why I keep at asking you, what can you do? You can't stop the wedding, you can't make her not in love with him. If you spirit him away, he'll find a way back. You could have done something back this summer, and you didn't." He pointed out, and pulled his hand back, looking sheepish. "Back was starting to twinge. But I'm serious. There's no reason to spurt blood, because there's nothing to be done but drink to their health and happiness."

"Gods, you and your back." She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Ain't me this time, mate. He weren't jokin' about mourning the death of his family line. Don't worry, I've got an eye on him."

"All right." He replied, and glanced over at where Neely had faded too. He then looked back at her. "He wouldn't do anything..." He trailed off, considering. "Well, he would. And he's glammed." He looked back. "I'll help you watch him."

She sighed. "Ain't your job, Bonet. I bought him; he's mine. I hope he heard that, wherever he's bugged off to." She looked morosely into her empty glass. "Never buy anyone. You're stuck with them afterwards."

Davide looked her over again, and then at the door. "So... do you need to watch him all night?" He asked curiously.

She gave him a look. "Well, I have to feed him every two hours, change his bottom, and then he's been so fussy about his teeth lately . . . "

Davide blushed. "It was just a question. What if he sneaks off? I don't want to be the reason for him causing trouble."

"I told you. We have an understanding. He ain't here to cause trouble." She slipped off the stool. "At least not yet."

He stayed in place, still looking worried. "What does that mean?" He asked. "Are you planning something?"

She raised an eyebrow and deliberately thickened her Aquitainean accent until it was almost a parody of itself. "Can you keep a secret? Fiona of Knockma is supposed to be here."