Page 234
Story: The Liveship Traders Trilogy
A slight movement of the lace over his face told her she had scored.
That quick little intake of breath said he was both shocked and delighted at her boldness.
But even better, past his shoulder, she glimpsed the dark scowl on Cerwin Trell’s face.
She had given a throaty little trill of laughter, contriving that her whole attention seemed focused on Reyn as she watched for Cerwin’s reaction.
Cerwin had snatched up a bottle of wine from a passing servant’s tray and refilled his own glass.
He was far too well-bred to slam the bottle down on the table at his elbow, but it had made an audible thud.
Delo had leaned over to rebuke him, but he had brushed his sister’s remark away.
What had he thought then? That he had been too timid in his suit?
That he had missed his opportunity to have such a rare creature as Malta Haven smile at him like that?
Malta certainly hoped so. She thought of the simmering tension between the two men and a shiver ran over her.
She was so glad she had been able to talk her mother into the farewell party before Reyn left.
She had begged a chance to introduce her friends to him, saying she needed to see for herself if they could accept her Rain Wild suitor.
It had been more successful than she had ever dared dream.
One and all, the girls had been eaten up with jealousy to see her pampered so.
She had found a moment to slip aside with Delo and show her all the ‘small trinkets’ that Reyn had managed to slip in with her approved gifts.
The dragonfly perched motionless upon the flowers sent to her bedchamber had been artfully fashioned from precious metals and tiny gems. A tiny perfect deep blue flame-gem had been inside a bottle of scent.
A little basket of candied violets had been lined with what at first glance appeared to be a handkerchief.
Shaken out, the fine sheer fabric was large enough to drape her bed.
An unsigned note in its folds told her that Rain Wild women used such cloth to fashion their night garments for their bridal trousseau.
An apple in a basket of fruit proved to be a clever deception.
At a touch, it unfolded to present a string of water-opals and a tiny packet of silver-grey powder.
The note with that directed her to place the powder in the dream-box ten days after his departure.
When Delo had asked her what the dream-box did, Malta told her it sent her dreams that she and Reyn could share.
Asked what sort of dreams, Malta had turned aside and managed a blush.
‘It would not be proper to speak of them,’ she had whispered breathily.
No sooner had they returned to the festivities than Delo excused herself.
A short time later Malta saw her in excited conversation with Kitten.
The gossip had spread swiftly as a rising tide after that.
Malta had seen it engulf Cerwin. She had refused to meet his eyes today, save for one glance.
He had not hesitated to let her see the heartbreak in his gaze.
She had sent him a stricken look of appeal.
After that, she had feigned ignoring him.
Enrapt in Reyn’s conversation, she had left it to her mother to make her farewells to the departing guests.
It was so delicious to wonder what Cerwin would do next.
She was broken from her musings by the soft working of the kitchen door.
Her mother and grandmother exchanged a glance.
‘I left it unlatched for her,’ Grandma Vestrit said quietly.
They both got to their feet, but before they could move, a man entered the room.
Keffria gave a gasp and stepped back in horror.
‘I’m home,’ Althea announced. She took off the ragged coat she was wearing and smiled at them all.
Her hair was disgusting, bound flat to her head and then swinging behind her in a boy’s plait.
The skin of her face was red and wind-chapped.
She strode into the room and held her hands out to the fire as if she were perfectly at home here. She smelled of tar, oakum and beer.
‘God of Fishes!’ Keffria said, startling them all with the coarseness of the oath.
She shook her head as she stared in dismay at her sister.
‘Althea. How can you do this to us? How can you do this to yourself? Have you no pride, no care at all for your family name?’ She sat down heavily in her chair.
‘Don’t worry about it. No one who saw me recognized me,’ Althea retorted. She moved around the room like a stray dog sniffing. ‘You’ve moved Father’s desk,’ she accused them all.
‘The light is better by the window,’ Grandmother said mildly. ‘The older I get, the harder it is to see fine lettering. It takes me four or five efforts to thread a needle now.’
Althea started to speak, then stopped. Her features changed slightly. ‘I am sorry to hear that,’ she said sincerely. She shook her head. ‘It must be hard, to lose things you have always taken for granted.’
Malta was trying to watch them all at once.
She saw her mother fold her lips tightly and guessed she was angered at how her complaint had been ignored.
In contrast, Grandmother met Althea’s eyes without anger, only a grave sadness.
Malta ventured a move. ‘You can’t know that no one recognized you.
All you know is that no one showed that they had recognized you.
Perhaps they were too ashamed for you to react. ’
For an instant, Althea looked shocked that Malta had spoken at all. She narrowed her eyes. ‘I think you should remember your manners when you speak to your elders, Malta. When I was your age, I was not encouraged to speak out of turn when adults were conversing.’
It was like a spark to well-laid tinder.
Malta’s mother surged to her feet and stepped between them.
‘When you were Malta’s age, as I recall clearly, you were a bare-foot hoyden climbing around in the ship’s rigging and conversing freely with all kinds of people.
And sometimes doing more than conversing. ’
Althea’s face paled, making the smudges on it stand out more clearly. Malta smelled a secret there. Her mother knew something about Aunt Althea, something dirty. Secrets were power.
‘Stop it.’ Grandmother spoke in a low voice.
‘You two have been apart for almost a year, and the first time you are in a room together, all you do is spit at each other like cats. I haven’t stayed up all night to listen to you squabble.
Sit down, all of you, and keep silent for a moment. I intend that you should listen to me.’
Her mother returned slowly to her chair and her grandmother sat down with a sigh.
As if to pique her sister, Althea sank down to sit on the hearthstones.
She crossed her legs like a sailor; for a woman in trousers to sit like that struck Malta as obscene.
She caught Malta staring at her and smiled back.
Malta caught her mother’s eye and gave a small shake of her head.
Keffria gave a small sigh. Grandmother ignored it all.
‘Instead of criticizing each other, we all need to look at our family’s situation and do what we can to improve it,’ Grandmother began.
‘Aren’t you even going to ask her where she’s been all this time and what she has been doing? We were worried to death about her! Now she comes in casually, all dirty and dressed like a man, and ’
‘My niece is dressed like a woman, and is evidently being used as a lure to attract Rain Wild money. Why don’t we talk about family pride and the morality of that first?’ Althea demanded tartly.
Grandmother stood up and walked between them.
‘I said it was my turn to speak. I am trying to talk about what is most important first, before we engage in bickering. We all have questions. Those questions will keep until we have determined if we can act as a family. If we cannot, then there is no point to asking the questions.’
‘If Althea had been here, as she should have been, she would know what we face,’ Keffria put in quietly. ‘But, I am sorry to interrupt. I will hear you out, Mother.’
‘Thank you. I will be brief. Some of this, Althea, I told you about earlier today, but not in detail. I think all of us need to consider our family’s situation, rather than our own individual concerns.
We need to set aside our differences. Or at least conceal them.
We must decide where this family stands, and then we must show that image to Bingtown.
We can show no trace of dissent. We could not weather the slightest breath of scandal.
’ Grandmother turned slightly so that her words were addressed more to Aunt Althea.
‘Althea, we are beset by our creditors. Our reputation is the only thing that keeps them at bay. Right now, they still believe that we will eventually pay them off, interest and all. Keffria and I and Malta, I should add have made many sacrifices to maintain an image of stability. We are living very simply. I have let go the servants, save for Rache. We have been doing for ourselves. We are not the only Bingtown Traders who have had to make this compromise, though few find themselves as straitened as we are. In some ways, it makes our situation worse. Many of our creditors are pinched; some who would have extended us understanding cannot afford to do so, for the sake of their own families.’
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