“How silly of me, to forget my slippers. Thank you.” She took the shoes and slipped them on.
“Good morning, Lady.” There was amusement in the Reeve’s voice. “I will be only a few moments, then we can break our fast.”
“Thank you. Kerim ... My Lord.”
Shamera approached him and kissed him on the cheek before sinking to the floor beside him and gazing up at his face. A slight flush rose on his cheekbone. She wasn’t sure whether it was suppressed amusement, embarrassment, or something else. The silence echoed in the room for an uncomfortably long time before one of the men began speaking. When the others left the room at last, Shamera was thankful that none of them looked back to see Kerim dissolve into laughter.
“That dress ...” he gasped when he could.
She widened her eyes at him in mock innocence. “Whatever do you mean? Is there something wrong?”
He was still laughing too hard to make speech easy. “Did you see Corad’s face when you came into the room? He’s a Kerlaner. They keep their women confined to their houses and veiled. I thought that his eyes were going to join his feet on the floor.” He relaxed into his chair, his shoulders still shaking and pointed a finger at her. “And you were no help at all, Mistress Adoration. Every time I looked away from Corad’s sweating face, I had to look at you.”
“Self-control—” Shamera smirked, “—is good for you.”
5
“It might be more circumspect to wait until the next evening session,” he explained as he led her rapidly through the corridors, “but then there will be so many people that you can’t hear yourself think. Besides I wouldn’t want to waste the effect of that dress.”
Sham didn’t have to look at him to know that he was smiling. “I hope you’ll remember how much you like it when you get the dressmaker’s bill.”
He laughed. “Usually there’s some form of entertainment at the court—music for dancing, a minstrel, or something.” He paused, and his chair slowed briefly as he cast her a wicked glance. “I was told there was a magic act this afternoon.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” replied Sham dryly, and Kerim laughed again.
As they neared the public area, the halls widened and became more expensively furbished. Kerim nodded at the footmen who opened a set of wide doors. When Sham and Kerim entered the room, people began to converge on him. Keeping a steady forward progress, he acknowledged each person who approached, introducing them to Sham. She nodded and smiled blindingly as her eye found the place where she’d found her mother’s dead body.
Shamera placed her hand on the Reeve’s strong shoulder and gripped it tightly against the tide of memories, hoping he would ascribe it to stage fright. After a moment, the immediacy of her memories faded and the hall became merely a highly polished room full of brightly clad people.
As the Reeve’s mistress, she represented an unknown force in politics of the court, one that threatened to upset the established influences. She was careful to act stupid, and concentrate on Kerim —which did much to add to the amusement that lingered in his eyes.
“Kerim,” announced Lady Tirra, coming upon them from behind. “You told me that you would see to it that the Lady Sky’s lands and property would be released to her. She tells me that her husband’s brother still refuses her the right to the manor house at Fahill.”
Kerim nodded. Much of the enjoyment left his face as he turned to look at his mother, though his expression was carefully pleasant. “I have been negotiating with him. It would have helped matters greatly if you hadn’t sent a message to Johar yourself. He is so irate now it may take a full-scale siege to get him to relinquish the estate. He’s even trumped up a charge that Lady Sky murdered Fahill.”
“Ridiculous,” Lady Tirra responded immediately. “He is merely being greedy, and you are too worried about upsetting his cronies to curtail him properly.”
The Reeve leaned back against his chair. “I agree that Lady Sky had nothing to do with Fahill’s death, Mother—it’s an obvious attempt to hold the lands. We are not going to get her all the land, but if you quit ‘helping’ me I can come up with a reasonable compromise.”
“With her estates and yours joined, you would have the wealth to make your position unassailable,” suggested Lady Tirra aggressively, leading Sham to the conclusion that this was something she’d proposed before.
The Reeve bridled visibly. “The only one who can relieve me of my duties is the Prophet of Altis, Mother. He is not affected by the wealth and power of those who object to my rule. Moreover, I am not marrying Lady Sky. She was the wife of my dearest friend—”
“Who has been dead these eight months,” she pointed out briskly. “It is time that I have grandchildren. I would not mind accepting Lady Sky’s child as my first.”
“Then marry her to my brother,” he snapped impatiently. “She and he have been lovers for some time. If he’d offered for her, she’d have married him three months ago.” Taking a deep breath, he dropped his voice so he wouldn’t be overheard by anyone not concerned. “You know Ven and Johar have always gotten on well. Ven asked me to seek a settlement based on his marriage to Sky.”
The level of noise in the room had dropped as the conversation progressed. Sham had the impression that everyone in the room was intent on overhearing the exchange between the Reeve and his mother—an impression that was confirmed as silence abruptly descended in the room when a young woman entered through a nearby door. From the reactions of the courtiers, she could only be the Lady Sky that the Reeve had been discussing with his mother.
Like Sham, the woman had typical Southwoodsman coloration, but where Shamera owed her attractiveness to dress and cosmetics, this woman was beautiful. She was tiny, fragile, and very pregnant.
Ah, thought Sham, that explained the “first grandchild” remark. Ven hadn’t struck her as the type of man who would find a pregnant woman attractive; his involvement with her hinted at depths she had not expected from her first meeting. Or, more probably, he was a fortune hunter after her estates.
Lady Sky kept a pleasant smile on her face as she made her way to where the Reeve sat. Ignoring Sham, the Lady kissed the Reeve’s cheek and said, in unaccented Cybellian, “Good morning, Kerim. I take it you and Tirra were discussing Fahill again?”
The Reeve smiled, but there was a subtle reserve in his expression. It was odd, considering that Lady Sky was the only one beside Lady Tirra who she’d heard address the Reeve by his first name. She wondered if there had been something between Kerim and his friend’s widow.
“We were discussing Fahill,” he replied, not untruthfully. “My mother has taken it upon herself to berate your brother-by-marriage for his unnatural hatred of womankind.”
Lady Tirra’s lips tightened with anger. “I merely implied that if he had any respect for the woman who bore him, he would not turn an expectant mother out of her own house.”
Lady Sky laughed and shook her head, “Thank you for that, Lady, but my brother-in-law knows I can always depend upon your generosity for a place to stay. He is only claiming property, not harming me.” She turned back to the Reeve and said in a gently chiding voice, “But we are being impolite. Would you introduce me to your companion, Lord Kerim?”
Kerim had enjoyed shocking the court and his mother, but Sham could hear the reluctance in his voice when he introduced her to Lady Sky. Sham nodded at the other woman and began toying with a seam in the tunic that Kerim wore.
“I heard of Lord Ervan’s death, several years ago,” said Lady Sky, obviously trying to make Sham feel welcome. “I knew him only by name, but he was reputed to be a kind man. I had not heard that he was married.”
Sham lowered her gaze modestly, but spoiled it by moving her hand off the material of Kerim’s velvet tunic and onto the skin over his collarbone. She could almost hear Kerim’s mother, who had been steadfastly ignoring her, tremble in outrage. Kerim took her hand firmly in his, bringing it to his lips before he set it safely on the back of his chair.