An Indecent Proposal

by Jaleta Clegg

  "Because she offered to help. I needed someone with access to people and she offered. Lowell wants me to find Tayvis."

  "Do I dare ask what connection they have?"

  "Tayvis worked for Lowell until recently," Scholar said. "Look, I could lie. I could tell you stories that you would have a very hard time disproving, but I don't have time. I checked your files and you seem to be genuine. I'm going to trust you."

  "And what if I don't trust you?"

  "Then turn me in." Scholar waited, watching Olin.

  Deena pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. She stared down at the table.

  Olin drummed his fingers on the table. "Do you cheat at cards?"

  "What?" Scholar asked in surprise.

  "Do you cheat at cards?"

  "Only if I really want to win," Scholar said.

  "And how badly do you want to win?"

  "I can't afford to lose."

  "Then I think we may be able to help each other," Olin said.

  "I just wanted to meet her, to see for myself what she was like," Deena said.

  "She's a better person than Vance deserves," Olin said.

  She studied him for a long moment, searching for the truth behind his words. She smiled finally. "Thank you," she said simply.

  "It is a pleasure to meet you," Olin said. "I've been a fan of yours for years. I can truthfully say you are as lovely now as you ever were."

  "He's almost better at flattery than you are," Deena said to Scholar.

  "Almost?" Olin said. Scholar just grinned.

  The door to the kitchen opened. Deena jumped. Hester looked in.

  "I didn't realize you had visitors, Olin. I was just letting you know I'm going out. I won't be back until late." She turned to leave.

  "Hester," Olin said, "come sit with us. Please." His voice left little room for argument, it was an order, not a request.

  She stiffened, her fingers tightening on the door.

  "Your report can wait a few minutes," Olin said. "And don't deny it. I know where you go and who you talk to."

  She shook her head. "You can't possibly know the truth, Olin."

  "Rutherford, Sulamin, and Oxford."

  She went white. She crossed the room and meekly sat at the table. "What are you going to do about it?"

  "Nothing, as long as you're willing to work with me," Olin said.

  "The legal firm?" Scholar asked. "What do they have to do with anything here?"

  "I suspect they planted her here to keep an eye on Iniuri Shiropi. Who's paying the bills, Hester? Lady Candyce?"

  She nodded. "I give her reports on everything that happens inside. She likes to be kept appraised of her husband's doings."

  "And I suspect she pays you well," Olin said.

  Hester shrugged, a delicate lifting of her shoulders. "It hurts no one."

  "Dace was right to be suspicious about you," Olin said.

  "Wait a minute," Scholar interrupted. "Are you saying that the Speaker's wife pays you to spy on him?" He stared at Hester, waiting for her answer.

  "She hasn't lived with her husband for a dozen years. She likes to know what he's doing. After Vance disappeared for over a year, she was very concerned. He hasn't been home to visit her. She wants to know about the woman he has chosen to marry. She suspects it isn't entirely his choice."

  "And you're going to tell her what, that Dace forced him into it?" Scholar asked.

  "Not hardly," Hester answered. "Tell me, cousin Henry, are you really Dace's secret lover?"

  "And if I was?"

  "It would give Lady Candyce a reason to nullify the engagement."

  "And what of Vance?"

  "What of him?"

  "Why am I here?" Deena asked Scholar. "Why did you really ask me to come?"

  "I'm wondering myself. Do you trust her?" he asked Olin, pointing at Hester.

  "Yes, but only to a point," Olin answered.

  "Good, that settles that question." Scholar stood. "It's been a pleasure meeting you," he told Hester. "I'll be in touch," he added to Olin. He held out a hand to Deena.

  She took his hand, standing up from the table.

  "We'll let ourselves out," Scholar told Olin. "I suspect you still have a lot to discuss and we're only in the way."

  Olin and Hester stayed at the table, eying each other. Scholar hustled Deena out of the kitchen and down the long hallway.

  "That was a waste of time," she said when they were outside the front door. Their flitter was still parked in front.

  "Not completely," Scholar said as he opened the door for her. He got in beside her and started the flitter. It rose into the air, merging with the traffic flying through the city.

  "What do you want me to do now?" she asked.

  "Find Tayvis," he said. "If you need anything, money, contacts, whatever, call these people." He scribbled a name and number on a card he pulled from his pocket. "You can trust them."

  "And what are you going to do?"

  "Track down a new lead."

  "What do I tell Tayvis when I find him?"

  "Tell him I said he's an idiot," Scholar said. "And then tell him to get back here as fast as he can. I have the feeling Dace is going to need his help."

  The flitter circled, landing near her apartment. She got out.

  "Deena," Scholar said, stopping her before she could close the door. "Be careful. And it may be safer if you left Linas-Drias for a while."

  "Looking for my son should take me offworld. I was thinking of leaving anyway."

  "Go sooner rather than later."

  "I will. And Henry, you be careful. I've become rather fond of you."

  She shut the door. He watched her walk into her building. He hoped he wasn't marking her as a target. He punched in a number on his com, scrambling it through his own circuits.

  "Yes?"

  "I've got a problem for you," Scholar said. "I need you to help a friend of mine move."

  "New identity?"

  "Just surveillance for now." He rattled off Deena's address. "She's leaving soon. Keep an eye on her for me, will you?"

  "Sure thing. You want those files you asked for?"

  "I'll pick them up before I leave. I've got a new lead to track down."

  "See you soon, then."

  "Soon." Scholar broke the connection.

  He sent the flitter up into traffic. Finally, something had rattled loose. He knew if he shook things around long enough, something was bound to break free. He just hoped it was something useful this time.

  Rutherford, Sulamin, and Oxford. He punched the names into his datapad. The information scrolled in front of him, floating in the air. He read through it quickly and frowned. It was somewhere to start, but it was going to take a lot of work to find anything in the piles of legitimate information. If there was anything to find.

  His comp pad vibrated suddenly, a specific series of buzzes that only meant one thing. He keyed in a code and waited while the pad sorted through the other bits of information, extracting the message. When it finished, he stared at the single word for a long time.

  Lowell had risked a lot to warn him. The name hung in the air above his pad. A single name, he thought, nothing else. It was a warning and a direction. It made too much sense.

  "High Commander Theodys," he murmured to himself.

  Life had just gotten even more dangerous.

  Chapter 32

  I put the finishing touches on my hair and face. Another day of tedious luncheons and boring dinners, and I would go stark, raving mad. We'd been back on Linas-Drias only a day and already the invitations were stacking up. Rumors of my actions at the reception on Perlion proliferated rapidly. Everyone wanted to know the truth. I refused to talk about it.

  I walked down the stairs, towards the library. I heard voices. I stopped outside the door, listening. It was a bad habit, but a useful one.

  "You can't possibly be serious," a woman said.

  "We've been over this before," Vance answered. "My answer still has
n't changed."

  "You did this," the woman said accusingly.

  A soft murmur, too far from the door and too quiet for me to hear. There was a clink of glass on glass.

  "I don't believe you're as innocent as you pretend," the woman said.

  I had to lean close to the door to catch it. The latch wasn't quite tight. The door swung open. I stepped in, smiling and pretending I hadn't been listening at the door.

  Vance stood to one side, a glass in his hand. He looked as if the drink was bitter, his mouth pinched tight. He smiled when he saw me but the bitterness was still in his eyes.

  A woman stood near Iniuri, a tall woman with dark hair swept up in an elegant swirl. She turned to face me. Her presence commanded attention. She studied me and I studied her back. Her face had a classic beauty, oval with smooth skin and well defined bone structure. Her eyes were large, an odd shade of olive green. Her lips were too thin. They were currently curved in a frown. Her eyes were cold and calculating.

  "Dace," Vance said, "may I introduce the Lady Candyce de Meajhrui, my mother."

  "Charmed," I said and held out my perfectly manicured hand. I smiled just the right degree of warmth. I'd been practicing.

  "I have heard much about you." She ignored my hand.

  I lowered it, trying not to feel like an idiot. She made me feel incompetent and crude just by looking at me.

  "I have heard about your little demonstration at Perlion," she said to Iniuri. "What were you thinking? You treat her as a common servant. This will not do, Iniuri."

  "Not for you, no," Iniuri said.

  "No," she agreed. "I insist that you shall be my guest." She turned on me with a smile. "We shall see if we can correct misconceptions. Come, Vance, you will pack and leave within the hour. I insist."

  Olin was in the far corner, shaking his head at me. Iniuri looked blankly at the wall. Vance swirled his drink in his glass, waiting for my answer.

  "I'm not sure what I'm being invited to," I said, stalling for time and information.

  "You will be my guest, at my home," she said. "I wish to become acquainted before I'm expected to welcome you into the family."

  It was an insult, but one I chose to ignore. I also chose to ignore the warning look Olin gave me. I knew with a sudden certainty that this was the direction I needed to look. How bad could it be, really?

  "I'd love to," I said and smiled.

  Iniuri's face tightened. Olin looked pained. Vance smiled blandly. His eyes were dead, giving nothing away.

  "We'll leave as soon as you can pack," Lady Candyce announced.

  I nodded and left the room. No one tried to stop me.

  Hester was pulling suitcases from under my bed.

  "Do you listen at doors?" I asked.

  "Do you?"

  I watched as she packed my things. Dress after dress, tunics and leggings, I wondered how I'd managed to accumulate so much in so little time. She worked quickly, much faster than I could have. Everything I owned was packed and ready to go within the hour.

  "Do you expect me to come back?" I asked, half teasing.

  She sighed and pulled the last piece of luggage into line with the others. "To be honest, Dace, I wouldn't go if I were you. Lady Candyce looks on things a bit differently than the Speaker. She won't be as tolerant."

  "I'm marrying Vance, not her."

  "That won't matter. Who her son marries will reflect on her. That matters to her."

  "Are you saying I'm not good enough, Hester?"

  She turned away abruptly. That was answer enough for me. I pulled open the door. Olin waited outside, Vance's mother right behind him.

  "Take them to the flitter," Lady Candyce ordered him.

  Olin mutely obeyed, picking up two of the cases and hauling them away.

  Lady Candyce walked slowly around me, eying me closely. "I detect your hand in the clothes, Hester," she said, treating me as if I were only an object, not a person. "And I assume you had Madame Yosefie's help with the rest. Am I correct?"

  "Yes, lady," Hester said.

  "She is almost good enough. Perhaps I can finish the polishing." She stopped in front of me, looking down into my face. "What my son sees in you is a mystery to me, but if he is determined, then I shall have to adjust."

  I had never felt so humiliated in my life. I made myself smile instead of smacking her face.

  "Thank you, Lady Candyce," I said as graciously as I could manage.

  "I detect a frontier accent. That will never do. You would do well to keep your mouth shut." She turned her back on me and walked out.

  I snapped my mouth shut over the names I wanted to call her. Someone close to Vance was the source of the treason and the only person left I knew about was his mother. I had to go. I lifted my chin and walked after her.

  Vance waited by the flitter. Olin was slow fetching my luggage. I knew it was on purpose. He didn't want me to go. After the way she'd insulted me, I didn't want to go either. We stood in awkward silence while Olin carried the bags out and piled them in the cargo bin at the back of the flitter.

  "Why haven't you come to see me?" Vance's mother said suddenly, ripping the silence open. She was talking to him, not me.

  "I haven't had time, Mother. I've been rather busy."

  "So I see." She shot a venomous look at me.

  "It isn't what you think. I've been busy working with Father. They confirmed me as Second Speaker."

  "Which is only what you deserve." She smiled fondly at him. "But this whole engagement, shouldn't you have at least talked it over with me first?"

  "I'm sure you'll love her, just as I do." Vance pulled my hand onto his arm and smiled at me. There was a warning in his eyes, and a reluctance I didn't understand.

  I said nothing. I didn't want to offend her upper class ears with my crude accent. Play the game, I told myself. Even if the lines were blurring between fantasy and reality, I had to play and keep playing.

  Olin finally finished. "Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

  "No, that will be quite enough," she told him.

  "Then I wish you a pleasant journey," he said stiffly and backed away.

  Last chance to run, I thought to myself. I let Vance hand me into the flitter.

  I expected to go somewhere on Linas-Drias. We went to the spaceport instead. The flitter settled next to a sleek yacht, not an Archer but close. The door to the flitter was opened by a uniformed man. Vance's mother climbed out, I followed, Vance on my heels.

  We boarded the yacht. It was expensively fitted.

  "Your cabin," Vance's mother informed me as we paused in the doorway. "And may I make it quite clear that you are not crew. You are not a servant, you will not behave in such a common way. I heard about your escapades. It is not seemly. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Very." She made me feel about three inches high and stupid besides.

  "Good. Bryan will fetch your things. You must be tired."

  I took her hint and went into the cabin. I almost expected to hear the door lock behind me. She had too much class to do that. I sank onto the bunk and swore at myself. What was I getting into this time?

  The crewman, Bryan, brought in my luggage and stowed it for me. I lay back on the bed after he was through and stared at the expensive paint job on the ceiling. The ship vibrated when the engines started. I stayed on the bunk during liftoff and through the acceleration to jump wishing I were in the cockpit flying.

  I was trapped by my own choices. I had to finish this soon. I had to find the traitors. I twisted the engagement ring on my finger, wanting to pull it off and throw it back at Vance. Except I didn't want to hurt him. I liked him, at least when he lowered his mask and let me see the real person behind it. The pretending was becoming too real.

  I pressed my hands against my face. I had to stay in control. I had to not let his mother drive me crazy. That had to be her main reason for the way she treated me. I had to play better than she did.

  I got up off the bed and washed my face in the t
iny bathroom attached to my cabin. I sorted through my luggage and found a dress that not even she could find fault with. I spent a careful hour doing my hair and makeup. I slipped my feet into the matching heels and studied the effect in my mirror.

  I looked like a doll, a perfect doll dressed up for a party. I hated it. But it was what was expected.

  There was a discreet knock at the door. I opened it. Bryan was outside. He showed no surprise to find me dressed up.

  "Dinner is in one hour, miss," he informed me. He glanced down at my dress then turned away.

  "Thank you," I called after him. He gave no sign he heard me.

  I shut the door. I paced for as long as I could, kicking off the shoes. The carpet was very soft on my feet. I waited, my stomach in knots. Could I show up early? Or should I show up late? I didn't know the rules to the social game I was playing. I watched my clock until an hour had passed. I put my shoes back on and opened the door.

  I followed the sound of soft music to the ship's lounge. I heard laughter, soft and sweet, as I approached. Maybe I'd been imagining things. Maybe Vance's mother wasn't so bad. And maybe I was really going to marry Vance. The thought left me cold. I stopped outside the lounge and took a deep breath. It was showtime.

  Vance sat on a low sofa beside his mother. They were talking and laughing together. His mother stopped when she saw me. Her eyes were cold as they swept over me. Vance's look was also appraising, but it was much more approving. He stood and took my hand.

  "You look lovely, as always," he said and kissed me on the cheek.

  His mother cleared her throat, quietly and discreetly. Vance stepped away from me.

  "I believe we are ready," Vance's mother told someone outside of my view.

  Vance led me to a long table at one side of the lounge. He left me standing behind a chair while he helped his mother sit at one end of the table. He returned and pulled out my chair. I sat. He sat between us. The crew quietly and unobtrusively served an elaborate meal.

  Vance's mother made it look effortless to eat gracefully and daintily. I'd never been so utterly aware of my own clumsiness and lack of manners. I kept my head down as much as I thought I could. Vance and his mother talked, touching lightly on topics I knew nothing about, mostly about people I'd never heard of.