“Didn’t I? I would have sent it with the post this afternoon, but since we were going out, I thought I’d drop it off if we had the chance.”
“Rother told me you’ve sent quite a few of these letters to your father’s people. I’m not sure I approve of something so vindictive.”
“It’s a good lesson for old Arthur,” Rother said with pride. “He should learn to treat his son better.”
I cringed, praying Blythe wouldn’t take the obvious opening. Thankfully, he stayed silent. Alexandra ignored him as well, making it much easier for me to continue.
“The letter campaign is nearly finished. I promise it won’t change me too much.”
Alexandra gave off a displeased exhale, but said no more.
I wished I could make Alexandra understand. It was a rare thing for me to see disappointment in her rich eyes. I wanted to find a way to confide in her, but one thing stopped me. Alexandra had defended me on more than one occasion, and I owed her more loyalty than I was giving. But she was talking to Rother about the letters. Delaga House was her home, and she’d been attached to Rother in some fashion for far longer than I. How deep did that go? Could I offer my absolute trust? If only I were more certain. Until I could say yes without doubt, I would have to allow her to continue with a flawed understanding.
The secrets were piling high.
There wasn’t much to do but follow Rother, wherever he was taking us. Our path would appear random to most, but I sensed a purpose behind it. Alexandra tried to stay ahead of us, but had to shift each time he took a sudden turn. She clearly had no idea where we were going either.
If the threat of Avaston wasn’t enough, my pulse had sped up at the postal box and had yet to slow. Not much more was said as we walked, but I found Rother’s cheerful humming to be aggravating my already frayed nerves. Did he see all the milling hordes as potential customers? Were they all fresh coin to add to his coffers? The rest of us scanned everywhere, not willing to be taken by surprise a second time.
Who knew the surprise would come from Rother. Each livened step drew us closer to a café whose outdoor tables were empty during the busy lunch hour except for one lone diner shadowed by a dark man to the side.
Without warning, my breaths shortened into ineffectual sucks of air. Alarm festered in my chest, growing in volume with each step forward. I tried to slow my feet, but Rother’s grip on my arm prevented it and the cobblestones had no purchase. Didn’t Alexandra and Blythe notice whom we were approaching? Or were they not paying attention because he was seated?
Rother was far too amused for my liking. “What a coincidence finding you here, Avaston.”
All the other tables sat empty despite the hour, leaving me wondering how much influence Mr. Avaston held for a restaurant to give up prime seating. He barely registered Rother’s comment, refusing to be interrupted from his meal. The swarthy man standing near the wall, yet not leaning against it, had to be a guard of sorts.
“I always have lunch here. It’s no secret.” The speed of his cut stayed constant as he carved a bite off his blood-rare steak, even as he met Rother’s gaze. Mr. Avaston speared the piece of meat with his fork and swirled it through the sanguine pool on his plate. The bite included a classless show of teeth and slow, openmouthed chewing I believed was for our benefit. He blotted his mouth with the stained napkin aproned over his chest, tucked snug into his collar. “Your boy looks awfully spry.”
“He’s the pinnacle of health.”
Mr. Avaston glanced at me and returned his view to his steak. “Looks like he nicked himself shaving. He should learn to be more careful.”
My jacket tightened and I felt Blythe’s presence at my back. With a fistful of my garment, he stood quiet. I prepared at any moment for him to jerk me backward and away from Avaston. It didn’t stop the chill fighting off the summer warmth.
I didn’t need to see the sly grin on my husband’s face. I could hear it. “I don’t think he has anything to worry about anymore. We threw his old razor in the rubbish. It was broken and lacked the edge to do the job right. So tell me, how’s your assistant David doing these days?”
Mr. Avaston stopped in midbite, his coarse face darkening. His guard slipped a hand into his waistcoat, halting when Mr. Avaston raised his hand. My lungs stalled. Was Rother insane? Did he believe the public location would protect us if he provoked the bear enough?
I placed my shaking hand on Rother’s arm, hoping he might see how dangerous goading the man could be through my touch. “Rother, perhaps we should leave the man to his meal.”
“Of course. How rude of me.” Rother gave a nod, simmering with confidence at gaining a reaction. “I apologize for interrupting. I’d hate to ruin such a rich meal. One never knows how long we can afford these kinds of indulgences.”
Mr. Avaston’s eyes flashed, and the grim line of his mouth curled at the edges. “That’s right kind of you, Rother. I’m not worried. I won’t be poor anytime soon. There was some talk I was running into trouble, but it all ended after what happened to Chief Magistrate Saux.”
“What happened?”
With a renewed interest in his meal, Avaston began carving off a new bite. “I heard he was helping someone try to pull off some kind of shady deal and got found out. Some kind of inflated debt scheme that would wind the guy he was after up in prison. Looks like Saux pissed off the wrong people. His husband—well, widower, really—came home the other night and found him in pieces. Poor guy’s a mess, ’cause they didn’t catch the guy who did it.” Mr. Avaston shook his head, frowning without an ounce of conviction. “A real shame. I hate when bad things happen to good people, don’t you?”
I gasped at word of Magistrate Saux’s murder, knowing full well the man responsible was only separated from us by a single café table. The muscles in Rother’s arm tensed under my hand. I checked his face, which hadn’t lost its calm, but I could feel his furor boiling beneath his skin. His plan to protect Delaga House by ruining Mr. Avaston had crumbled and Rother had lost one of his most important and influential servants in one strike. Spying in Rother’s office, I’d caught a glimpse of the outrageous debt statement he’d sent to Mr. Avaston. The balance would bankrupt several rich families. However, without Saux’s support, the debt would never stand under legal scrutiny. Rother’s gambit had shredded into useless tatters of parchment and ink.
This assumed the news of the Chief Magistrate’s death was true, and given the gleam in Mr. Avaston’s eye, there could be no doubt.
“Yes. How horrible,” Rother said.
Mr. Avaston returned to his bovine chewing with a renewed vigor. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. I thought you two were kinda close.”
“He was a business associate.”
I was impressed how Rother shrugged off the information with a casual disregard, but I knew better. With the balance of power shifted in the conversation, I wanted to fly far away and drag our group with me, but I knew Rother would never allow such visible weakness. His pride would be the death of us all.
“Yeah, well. I think you better find something fresh. That bank’s closed.”
“I see. Thank you for the advice.”
“I’ve been thinking about my own business ventures lately. With what happened to Saux, none of us can be too careful. I’ve been rethinking my interest in Delaga House.”
“Really. How so?”
Mr. Avaston took a large swallow of wine, barely pausing his speech. “I’m not sure it’s a smart business venture right now. Not with one of your high-profile clients ending up like that. It’s a bad association. Doesn’t make for good profits.”
“Yes, I imagine the risk of being connected to such things would be dangerous for some people.”
“For some people, yes.”
Taking a larger inhale than normal, Rother gave his opponent a gracious, yet counterfeit smile. “Well, I think we’ve encroached on your lunch for long enough. Enjoy your meal and give your people our regards.” Rother gave a slight bow
and started our path away from the restaurant. It couldn’t happen soon enough for my taste.
Mr. Avaston called out after us as we walked away. “I sure will. Have a good day, Rother, and good luck with Delaga House. Don’t want all this ugliness to spill over on it. I’d hate to see all your hard work go up in smoke.”
We left as a group, keeping Mr. Avaston and his henchman in our sight over our shoulders. Only once he was too small to see in the distance did I allowed myself to breathe.
THE NEXT day, tension in Delaga House held a solid presence. Rother’s temperament was surly at best, and most of the staff saw fit to avoid him if possible. If only we all had such opportunities.
The summer blossoms were spectacular this afternoon. I sat in the cozy gazebo enjoying the foliage, my tea long since cooled. The sturdy structure was well crafted and attractive. A crude yet deliberate artistry lined the careful planks of wood, one I’d come to appreciate since moving to Marisol. Knowing it had been completed for my benefit warmed my chest more than the sunshine.
Unfortunately, I knew I couldn’t stay outside in the garden forever. The last thing I wanted was for Rother to come searching for me here and ruining my corner of paradise. So far he’d allowed me this refuge and not stepped over the threshold since I claimed it for myself. I knew better than to believe the boundary would stay sacred if Rother found just cause. Or a fleeting cause.
I spent a lot of time working to not giving him the reason.
After collecting my tea set, I dropped it onto the kitchen counter to save Dahvra or someone else the effort of retrieving it. I wasn’t sure whether I’d grown enough to not require constant care from others, or if the gesture was to reduce intruders into my sanctuary. Either option left me content.
Afterward, I wasn’t sure how to spend my afternoon. I could go upstairs and work toward finishing the music box, but a glimmer of rebellion made me procrastinate. Rother did say I could take my time, and I felt obliged to honor his request.
Staff were cleaning and primping for tomorrow evening’s rush of carnal clientele. I was amazed the business could thrive being open only a few days a week, but thankful for the schedule as well. Delaga House was always well maintained, almost to the standard I would have expected in Deilia. For the most part, the employees took pride in their establishment, their home. As it succeeded, so did they. Rother may have been a glorified pimp, but their wages and working conditions were above reproach, considering the nature of the work. There was good reason for their attachment. I could understand. Every member worked hard regardless of how they earned their keep. If you discarded the more sordid aspects of their earnings, the honor they found in being part of Delaga House equaled any cadre of servants back home.
The more time I spent observing them without judgment, the more I set aside old, antiquated notions of right and wrong. Delaga House might have been born on the back of sinful men, but the acts were not inherently evil. How strange I found a growing sense of dignity amongst the common folk, who lived freer than I ever did with all the privileges and restrictions built into my rearing.
Perhaps Delaga House wasn’t the airship to hell, even if the devil himself sat at the helm.
So I began an aimless path through the house, looking for something to occupy my time. I veered away from the hall to Rother’s office since I knew he was camped inside stewing over the Avaston debacle. Eventually I would need to make an appearance as a dutiful spouse, but there was no rush.
Wandering around, I came across Blythe in the main hallway carrying a roll of carpet over his massive shoulder. The rug was monstrous, but he hefted it without strain. The sight made my thoughts drift back, reminding me of a more personal experience with the raw power he possessed.
He paused when he saw me and I smiled. Nothing garish, just a warm gesture. No need to give the milling staff new gossip. Blythe only kept my eye for a moment and dumped the carpet to the floor with a sound thud. No dust billowed into the air. The area was in the middle of a cleaning spree.
Blythe turned to the other staff, who were giving the walls a furious scrubbing. “This where you want it?”
One maid, a hardworking brunette, peered over at the rug, then winked at Blythe. “We can take it from there, big boy.”
With a soft grunt, he caught my gaze for a brief moment. Shrugging to square his rumpled shirt, Blythe gave me nothing more than his stoic expression. Without a word, he walked off deeper into the house and out of my presence.
My stomach soured at his departure. I knew it was necessary. No way existed to hide what he wanted if he stayed too close. Judging by the churn in my insides, I was no better off than him.
The frustration angered me. My face felt flushed, and I made a point of leaving the hall before anyone noticed. I didn’t want anyone asking questions I couldn’t answer, no matter how well-intentioned.
Trying to stay out of people’s way, I continued touring the house, not catching sight of Blythe on any floor. His avoidance was so complete, I couldn’t see if he still roamed the house, let alone the grounds. All the peace I’d gathered in the garden melted in an uncomfortable vibration. The more I missed my interaction with Blythe, the more I found myself fidgeting. Any object not nailed down found its way into my hand. A quill. A brush. A serving spoon. I palmed them, spun them between my restless fingers, and deposited them wherever my boredom found the next target.
An hour or so later, the agitation brought me back down to the ground floor. The hall to Rother’s office was empty, yet a pair of voices caught my ear. Tedium wove itself into curiosity. I crept closer, making a point not to be noticed. The office door was ajar, and Rother could be heard along with a woman. If they hadn’t taken the time to close the door, I couldn’t be accused of eavesdropping, could I?
I shook my head at myself. The antics of a spoiled debutante searching for luscious secrets didn’t suit me at all. I turned to leave until I recognized Vivian’s voice.
“… every night keeps me busy. I want more money.”
“You’re already the highest-paid employee I have.”
Peeking through the crack, I spotted Rother seated while Vivian leaned forward with her hands on his desk. “I deserve better. Without me, Delaga House would be just another whorehouse.”
“You may be a prized asset, but this business wasn’t built on your skills.”
“I bring in more money that anyone else here. That’s a fact.”
Her presumption annoyed me. Everyone else toiled day and night while I rarely saw her help without direct instruction. Diva behavior should be left to those who earned the right.
A better opportunity couldn’t have presented itself, so I invaded the room. “Does that include Mr. Avaston’s unpaid balance?”
“This is a private conversation.” Vivian acted as if her scathing glare could order me out.
“Not with the door wide open it isn’t.”
Rother wasn’t pleased before I arrived, and my appearance hadn’t changed his mood. “Do you have something to add, Nathan?”
“Yes I do.” I stepped closer to Vivian, making sure I had her full focus. “Every employee in this house does their part and more, except you. I hear their complaints every day when they think I’m not close enough to hear. You take no pride in your work beyond what you earn. Delaga House is all about the honor it bestows on you, not the other way around. You should take a page from the rest of the staff. It might enlighten you.”
“I earn more, I deserve more. You can’t dispute that.”
I turned to my husband. “Rother, you told me currently a large part of Vivian’s job is to cater to Mr. Avaston. Is that correct?”
Impatient as ever, Vivian cut in. “And I have.”
“Yes. In abundance. The ledger of his services are proof of that.” Rother narrowed his eyes at Vivian over the interruption.
“That’s largely unpaid. Who’s covering that debt?” I took on an obvious, condescending air. My father would have been proud. “Are you, Vi
vian?”
“It’s not my fault—”
“On top of that, you’re supposed to be providing useful intelligence we can use to protect the house. Where are we with that? Are we any less vulnerable?”
Vivian’s fists were tight as she tried to control her temper. “I’ve told you everything I know.”
“And Alexandra and I were still surprised by the ambush.”
“I didn’t hear anything about that.”
I stepped in close, and even though we were matched in height, I aimed to lord over her. “Would you have told us if you had? You seem to be awfully concerned with advancing your status inside Delaga House. It would be quite convenient if Alexandra and I were gone. You could maneuver yourself into the hostess position, and I can only imagine how few hours you’d wait to try and get back into Rother’s bed.”
She gave me a vicious grin. “Jealous?”
“I could care less what acts of pity he’s performed in the past.”
“I’d be a better partner to him any day.”
Rolling my eyes, I stepped back and paced a circle in the room while Rother watched. His opinion of the scene might have stayed the same, but my satisfaction grew with each word. I shouldn’t have been enjoying myself, but I’d waited months for this, and I wasn’t going to back down now.
“So on top of your insubordinate behavior, and after your extensive bedding down of Mr. Avaston on our behalf, we’re left with nothing useful and a giant debt we can’t collect. And you want a salary rise.” I turned to Rother. “Am I reading this scenario correctly?”
Rother’s voice stayed flat and unimpressed. “Yes, you are.”
“I don’t see why we need her. As I told you before, any one of a number of women could fill her role and be less trouble. She’s a streetwalker with delusions of grandeur. Who knows how much information she’s been feeding Mr. Avaston in the other direction.”
Vivian started to rant. “You think you’re so special waltzing in here and—”
“That’s not a denial.” There was no way I was letting her argue into any form of an upper hand. “Rother, she needs to go. It’s time to make a decision.”
Innocence and Carnality Page 31