A Brother's Price
Page 21
“No, we can't!” Ren snapped. “Do you want it to end here, with us? After twenty generations, our family ends with us? The entire country thrown into the same chaos of Wakecliff's estate, with no clear heirs?”
“You're being melodramatic, Ren.”
“I am not. We're only ten in number. If something happened to any one of us, our daughters could be even fewer. We have to marry and start having children.”
“Why not this violent outcry last year? Or the year before? Or any time in the last six years?”
“Halley hadn't gone missing last year. Odelia hadn't been attacked last year. I hadn't had a few narrow calls myself. And yes, this opportunity hadn't presented itself.”
“Opportunity? Let's call things as they are. You've met a pretty boy and you want to be serviced like a cat in heat. This is no different than with Eldest and Keifer.”
“Jerin is nothing like Keifer. This isn't like our first marriage. The Porters poured a fortune into Keifer's dress; they kept him under our elder sisters' nose, and gave full liberties to him prior to the wedding.”
“And this differs how from the Whistlers? It seems he's here, under our noses, well dressed, and, from what Barnes tells me, well tousled.”
“If Odelia and I hadn't gone north, we would have never met them. I caught Jerin alone at night and seduced him. I brought the Whistlers here. And if I hadn't begged Eldest Whistler to wait for our offer, they would have already accepted Kij Porter's generous offer a week ago and left.”
Trini whirled around. “What? No one's told the Whistlers what a monster Keifer was?”
“Kij is not her brother.” Ren waved it tiredly aside. “Besides, it would seem as if we were just poisoning the well to keep the water for ourselves.”
“All bad apples come from apple trees.”
“You can't say Keifer is a fair representation of his sisters, any more than Cullen is like his sisters.”
“I find Cullen exactly like his sisters—intelligent, fair-minded, openhearted, charming, and headstrong. I wouldn't mind marrying Cullen.”
“Cullen is too close in blood.” Ren rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “I like him too. He would be a safe choice; we know him well and there'd be no surprises, but we can't marry him.”
“I know. I know.”
“Trini, do you remember how Keifer was with you and Lylia? He could barely be civil even with Eldest watching. I've seen Jerin with his youngest sisters while trying to cook for forty people. There's no way he could have faked being so patient, gentle, and caring with them.”
“I've seen Jerin with Zelie and the youngest,” Trini admitted. “He seemed very good with them, but it could have been an act. All of it could be an act.”
“If you don't trust him, at least trust me to know the difference between genuine goodness and fake. I've resisted a second marriage this long because Keifer hurt me too. Of all the men paraded before us, Jerin's the only one I've trusted.”
Trini stared out over the rosebushes for several minutes. “And if we don't take Jerin, Kij gets him?”
“Most likely.”
“I wouldn't give a dog to the Porters,” Trini growled.
Was it too soon to ask for her support? Ren hesitated, afraid that Trini might construe the next question as her being bullied into a decision. But it made no sense to avoid the issue after pushing it to a head. “Can I tell Mother Elder that you support a marriage to Jerin?”
Several minutes passed, and then, quietly, Trini murmured, “Yes.”
Ren went to her Mother Elder. “The Porters have offered for Jerin. Let me make an offer too.”
“Have you spoken with your sisters about this?” Mother Elder asked quietly.
“Odelia and Lylia are eager for the marriage. Trini has agreed.”
“And Halley?”
Ren bit down on a bolt of anger. She mustn't lose her temper. “There hasn't been any word from Halley. Mother. I am beginning to doubt she is alive; I would have expected her to surface when the Herald reported the attack on Odelia. In that light, I do not think it's reasonable to wait for her. We have a majority.”
“With another man, a brother of a well-established noble house, I would agree with you. While Jerin is a charming man, there will be many objections to him fathering the next generation of rulers. We are the daughters of the Holy Mothers, unsullied by common blood for twenty generations.”
“All the noble houses were commoners at one time, from the Keepers on down.”
“With the exception of the Porters, the nobles have all taken royal princes as husbands.”
“If the Porters were acceptable, why not the Whistlers? They at least married a royal prince. In fact, in many ways, they are more noble than all the noble houses, since their royal blood has been less diluted by successive generations.”
“Truly, Ren, how can you compare the Porters, landowners for twenty generations, to thieves fathered out of cribs?”
“Landowners? The Porters were not much more than river pirates cutting the throats of those who failed to pay for portage around the falls. They claimed to be neutral during the War of the False Eldest, but everyone knew they played both sides, and yet we married them. ”
“This is not about the Porters; it's about the Whistlers.”
Ren realized that her mother was going to hold to her impossible demand. “If you hadn't planned on giving your permission all along, why did you allow me to hope? You've made losing him all the more bitter now.”
Her mother shook her head. “I told you that you shouldn't engage your heart.”
Ren stood, feeling hollow, betrayed.
Her mother reached out and took her hand. “Ren, I was willing to allow the marriage if Halley agreed to it. In such an unequal marriage, you're asking your sisters to take a huge risk, a risk a normal marriage wouldn't entail. If you wished to marry the brother of a noble family, a majority would be enough. This isn't the case. You must all be willing to take Jerin as husband.”
“Halley is dead!” Ren snapped. “Dead! She went out and got herself quietly killed!”
Her mother slapped her hard. “Shut your mouth! Until her body is buried in the family crypt, she is alive! The answer is no. You cannot marry without Halley's agreement. That was the case from the very start. Do not whine, child. It does not become you.”
“I am not whining. I believe your grief has made you unreasonable. Even if Halley is alive, she's passed all responsibilities of her duties to us, her sisters. Choosing a husband is just one more duty she's neglecting. We have not stopped the courts. We have not stopped the balls. We will not stop choosing a husband.”
“You will! I am still the Queen Mother Elder. You are my subject. I say you will not marry Jerin Whistler without your sister's approval. Push me any further Ren, and I will refuse the marriage totally.”
Ren clenched her teeth together, balling her hands into fists, trying to keep her anger in. Her mother meant it. It had been years since she'd heard such a decree, since she had lost favorite toys and been barred from outings as a child with such rulings.
“I'm sorry you've set your heart on this boy,” her mother said in a softer tone. “But our line can ill afford discord between husband and wife again. Trini tried to block the marriage to Keifer, and no one listened. This time, we will listen to everyone.”
Eldest Moorland cracked the door to Ren's study and peered in. “Have you seen Cullen?”
Ren waved her in. “He's usually either with Lylia or Jerin.”
Ren's cousin sat, shaking her head and sighing. “The younger Whistlers are in the billiard room with Lylia and Odelia. Eldest Whistler is apparently trying to track me down, so I assume it's safe to say that he's not with her.”
An unmarried Eldest sister looking for the Eldest sister of a marriageable man—it wasn't difficult to guess what Whistler wanted. “What are you going to say?”
Moorland sighed again. “Are you going to offer for Jerin? It makes a difference for us.”
In oth
er words, would the Whistlers continue to be poor landed gentry or would they be sisters-in-law to the princesses? Commoners might sell their brothers to the highest monetary bidder, but noble brothers went to the most powerful political tie.
Ren sighed. She owed it to her cousin to be truthful on the matter. In sketchy details, she told Moorland where negotiations stood. “Not a word of this, though, should leave this room. I don't want to raise Jerin's hopes, only to disappoint him. If he has to marry someone else, I would rather he be ignorant that we love him.”
“So that's the way the wind blows? Well, yes, let him start with his wives with a clean slate, so to speak.”
Ren flinched at the idea of another family being Jerin's wives. A knock at the door saved her from having to reply. “Yes?”
Eldest Whistler opened the door and stood in the doorway. “Eldest Moorland, I would like to speak with you.”
Moorland made a gesture to indicate that now was as good a time as any. “It would spare me having to repeat it all to my cousin anyhow.”
“We wish to marry Cullen.”
There was a shout from behind the heavy drapes and Cullen tumbled out from his velvet hiding spot. He gave another whoop of delight and flung himself into Eldest Whistler's arms. Whistler shook her head, smiling indulgently, and was soundly kissed. Ren had never thought of Cullen as a sexual creature—in that moment of frank passion, she realized he was as mature in that matter as Jerin. Her heart went out to Eldest Whistler and Cullen.
“Cullen!” Moorland growled. “We haven't accepted. We haven't even heard terms.”
“I want to marry them! Things will work out for Ren. I know they will. It's not like any of those other fusspots would ever offer for me, anyhow. They want a biddable, beautiful man.”
“You are beautiful.” Whistler didn't address biddable, but Ren had no doubt that Eldest Whistler could keep Cullen in line. “But Moorland is right. We need to discuss terms. We're not nobles with deep pockets. We might not be able to afford your brother's price.”
Cullen clung to Whistler, throwing his sister a tragic, pleading look. “I want to marry them. They would be good to me; I've seen them with Jerin. They have little brothers; I'd have other men around. They would teach me how to ri—” Cullen broke off at the word “ride” before it escaped completely, and changed it to “—write and read.”
“We can only afford two thousand crowns for the scamp,” Eldest Whistler said. “Payable on Jerin's betrothal. We might be able to work up more, but we'll have to take futures out on our little brothers. It would take time to raise more money.”
Moorland looked from Cullen to Eldest Whistler and then to Ren. The woman who loved her brother warred with the woman responsible for her family's best interests. Ren could offer nothing, and waited, sure that Cullen would lose out.
Amazingly, though, Moorland said, “You won't have to work up more. We'll settle on the two thousand. It doesn't pay to beggar your sisters-in-law.”
Whistler had been braced for a no and looked as stunned as Ren felt. Shouting, Cullen leaped to hug his sister, then mauled Ren in a hasty, exuberant hug, kissed Eldest Whistler again, and dragged her off in search of Lylia, Jerin, and the others to break the news.
The office seemed bare after they were gone, like someone had plucked the sun from the sky, leaving vast emptiness behind.
“Why did you say yes?” Ren asked Moorland. “You know it's unlikely we'll be able to marry Jerin.”
“Mother calls your father her sacrificial lamb sometimes. He bought us a lot of power, at the cost of being poisoned at the age of thirty-five. I don't want to spend the rest of my life with the same guilt my mother carries.”
Ren woke the next morning from another night of horrific dreams. The worst nightmare started in the garden, where she talked to Trini as her sister deadheaded the roses. Ren realized suddenly that the wilted flowers had Halley's face, and the cut stems seeped blood. Ren pulled up the rosebushes to find Halley buried underneath, but then her mothers wouldn't come to the garden to see the body. Every time she gripped their hands, they would slide away like a bar of wet soap. She woke in the dark, crying in frustration and fear. Other dreams plagued her after she went back to sleep, none as vivid, but all filled with pain and the sense of loss.
She was still in bed when Raven came in.
“I received this via regular post.” Raven held out a battered envelope.
Ren took it. It was addressed to “R. Tern” at Raven's town house address; the captain had torn the canceled stamps in opening the envelope. Inside was a common sheet of foolscap, folded once. Ren pulled it free, and the word “Eldest” in Halley's bold script made her catch her breath.
So you've lost your heart to the son of landed gentry? Well done. No need for a formal meeting for me. I approve your choice. Proceed with the wedding plans. I'll be there. Now, call off the dogs!
Your little sister.
Ren turned the paper, knowing that there was no more, but feeling as if there should be. “Where is she? How does she know about Jerin? Why hasn't she put any names on this? Why address it to you?”
“She sent it to me so only you and I would see it, instead of the whole palace staff. By the amount of the postage, I'd say she's close by, though.”
“And no names so if someone was to see it, they'd be none the wiser of who it was from and who it was for.”
“Aye,” Raven said.
Ren sighed, and then, as reality dawned on her, smiled. “She's approved of Jerin! We can make an offer! She's approved!”
Chapter 12
Jerin's face was starting to hurt from smiling so much, but he couldn't stop.
I'm betrothed to Ren and Odelia and Lyüa.
All was not perfect, of course.
Princess Trini stayed on the edges of his awareness, watching him, wary like a horse broken with a heavy hand and now distrustful. Princess Halley remained a complete unknown; no one seemed willing even to talk about her. All he knew about her was that she, like all her sisters, was red-haired and strong-willed.
Summer sulked because, with Jerin fetching the hoped-for four thousand crowns, the family would definitely split at Corelle. Cullen would be the older sisters' husband. Eldest and Corelle had already fought often over using futures on Doric to purchase a husband for the middle sisters. Worst of all, once Jerin's brother's price was in their hands, his sisters needed to buy Cullen and leave immediately; they had tickets for passage upriver on a boat that left at noon.
Still, he couldn't stop smiling.
It was decided to sign both contracts at the same time. Ren came in the morning, while he was still damp from his bath, for the prenuptial inspection. It was difficult to tell which of them was more embarrassed—Ren, he, or Eldest. Despite her blush. Ren's eyes glowed with an excitement that sent his heart racing and other parts of his body reacting.
“I'm satisfied.” With a grin, Ren picked up his dressing gown and helped him into it. “Everything seems to be in good working order.”
“But you knew that,” Eldest said.
“I would not be so cavalier,” Ren warned. “You have Cullen's inspection yet, and you are more guilty of dalliance than I am.”
Eldest faked innocence. “Oh, I was talking about the sperm test.”
That only made Ren smile wider and Jerin blush more. Cullen's report indicated that Jerin's elder sisters could expect the normal number of boys from their new husband. The doctor hand-delivered Jerin's report, fortunately hours later, just to see “the amazing specimen of male virility” herself. His sisters had been exceedingly smug about the report; one would think they had filled the small glass jar themselves. Cullen, thankfully, did not take it as a personal slight on himself.
Ren apparently already had all the originals noted on his birth certificate researched and double-checked, so this visual check for inbred deformities was the last formality.
Betrothals are for women; marriages are for gods. While solemn, there was no mistaki
ng the betrothal for anything but what it was: a purchase. Ren handed over Jerin's brother's price in four small strongboxes, and signed the betrothal contract. Eldest Whistler counted through the boxes separately, verifying that each contained a thousand crowns, then countersigned the contract. Eldest took Jerin's hand, led him to Ren's side, and gave his hand over to the princess. Ren clasped his hand tight, taking ownership.
Then it was time for Cullen's betrothal. The Moorlands received two of the four boxes. Eldest Whistler and Eldest Moorland signed as the heads of their families. Eldest Moorland gave Eldest Whistler Cullen's hand.
It was done. Cullen's wedding would be in a month at Heron Landing. Jerin's royal marriage would need an additional two months to plan. Hopefully, Princess Halley would reappear in time for the wedding.
They had a betrothal lunch, and then, with lots of hugging and kissing, Cullen and the Whistlers said good-bye.
“Take good care of my little brother,” Moorland said.
“We will,” Whistler promised.
“These are the husbands' quarters.” Ren said, unlocking the doors and pushing them open.
His new family stood around him, waiting for his reaction, and Jerin could only gasp. All previous splendor of the palace paled to this. His first impression was of vaulting ceilings, the flood of sunlight from a wall of windows across the room, the soft murmur of water, the smell of roses, a splash of cool green to his far left.
“Go on.” Lylia slipped around to the front to tug his hand gently. “From the balcony you can see forever.”
He entered the room, not sure where to look first, feeling doll-sized against the scale of the room. There was a fireplace he could stand inside. A massive grand piano sat dwarfed in one corner. Settees and lounges that would have crowded any room in the Whistler home littered the room like chains of islands, surrounded by great expanses of polished marble and shoals of carpets.
“There's a private rose garden with a fountain,” Trini murmured from behind him.
“Over there is the bedroom!” Odelia pointed out double doors opened to expose another vast chamber and a huge bed on a raised dais.