Jerrode looked like he had been to a Christmas party, in a bright red tunic heavily embroidered in gold, with emeralds winking green at her from the epaulets, and tightly-fitted black slacks. His expression, too, was unusually bright -- he was grinning broadly, his arms open wide, as he walked into the music room where Inara had been practicing her lute, using one from Jerrode's collection. A Butterfield lute, of palisander, unless she missed her guess; a collector's piece from Earth-that-Was, lovely both to look at and to play. Inara laid it aside with a twinge of regret.

"Inara!" Jerrode was positively ebullient as he drew her to her feet and embraced her. "I've located some of your friends!"

He pushed her to arms' length, grinning, watching for her reaction. She smiled broadly back at him. "Jerrode, that's wonderful!"

"They're not here," he said, in a cautionary tone. "We'll have to go and fetch them. But I happen to be at leisure now, and it won't take long. I thought we could go together!"

She laughed at his unaccustomed display. "Of course! I would like that very much!"

"I have a ship waiting!" he said, offering her his arm as he turned to leave the room. "You could even bring the Butterfield, to entertain us both while we are en route!"

Shaking her head, Inara placed the lute carefully back in its case. She slipped one hand into Jerrode's proffered elbow, and picking up the lute with her other. "I would love to," she said. She felt lighter. Whatever mess Mal had made, it was finally on the way to being fixed.

***

"Not dinner," River said, as Brother Matthew drew her out of the winery and into the abbey's sunlit courtyard.

"No," Brother Matthew agreed. The bells sounded frantic; the brothers were running across the courtyard with unseemly haste, their robes hiked up over their knees, heading straight across the tended grass, heedless of the paths they normally followed with such deliberate care.

River tried to think, tried to feel what the e