by Jayne Castle
"Be careful," Melanie yelled after her. "And don't forget you've got an appointment at the salon later this afternoon."
Lydia waved reassuringly, gripped the strap of her shoulder bag, and plunged into the crowd. When she reached the entrance of the high-rise office tower that housed the offices of the Guild she had to wriggle through a knot of office workers who had come outside to watch the parade. No one tried to stop her from entering the building.
She raced into the lobby only to find her path blocked by a guard dressed in khaki and leather.
She assumed what she hoped was an air of authority and prepared to use Emmett's name once again as a talisman. "I'm Mrs. London. I'm here to see my husband."
The guard grinned. "Yes, ma'am. I recognize you from the pictures in the papers. Private elevator on the left, ma'am. I'll rez the key code for you."
"Thank you."
She stepped into the hushed confines of the paneled elevator and was whisked to the top of the tower so quickly her ears popped.
When she stepped out a moment later she found herself in a plush, carpeted lobby.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. London." A small, tidy little man rose from behind a vast desk. "The guard informed me that you were on the way up here."
"Hello," she said. "Who are you?"
"I'm Perkins." He bobbed his head. "How may I assist you?"
"I'm here to see my husband."
"I'm so sorry." Perkins appeared genuinely distraught. "Mr. London is in a very important meeting of the entire Council at the moment. I couldn't possibly interrupt."
Oh, damn. She might already be too late. "When did it start?"
"Just a few minutes ago. It won't last long. There's only one item on the agenda."
"Where is this meeting held?"
"In the Council chambers, of course." Perkins angled his head in the direction of a closed door. "If you don't mind waiting—"
"No problem."
"If you'll follow me, there's a nice sitting area in here." Perkins turned to lead the way. "You'll have a wonderful view of the parade. Can I get you some rez-tea?"
"That would be great, Perkins. Thanks."
When he turned his back to her, she spun around and sprinted in the opposite direction, intent on reaching the closed door of the Council chambers before Perkins realized he'd been duped.
She actually had her hand on the gleaming doorknob before he comprehended that she had not followed him.
"Mrs. London," he squawked, appalled. "Wait. You can't go in there. You mustn't—"
She turned the knob, yanked open the door, and walked smartly into the chamber.
Chapter 18
Emmett and ten other men, most of them much older than him, were seated at a great semicircular table. They were all dressed in modern business suits that looked oddly out of place. She realized that the popular images of the ghost-hunters' Council came from the historical films and photos that dated from the Era of Discord. In the old movies and pictures the members of the Council were always shown wearing the traditional robes of office that dated from that time.
But aside from the modern attire, she had a hunch that very little had changed. You could feel the power in the room, she thought. Not just the low-level buzz of psi power that was palpable when so many strong para-rezes were gathered together in a small space, but another kind, the sort that clung to a group that had operated under its own secret rules and codes for decades.
The Guild had functioned outside the mainstream legal system from inception. It accorded superficial deference and polite respect to the civil authorities and the courts but everyone knew in reality it was immune to them. The old-fashioned hierarchical system had worked reasonably well down through the years because there was a fair amount of truth in the old saying the Guild polices its own.
You had to hand it to the ghost-hunters, she thought. They had been able to maintain their traditional ways and clean up financially at the same time because they'd always had a knack for selecting strong, savvy leadership.
For the first time it struck her quite forcibly just how strong and savvy Emmett had to be if he had, in fact, managed to mainstream the Resonance Guild, as the media claimed. It meant that he had had to control and steer a bunch of tough, powerful men like these into a future that none of them would have welcomed.
She recognized the ten members of the Cadence Guild Council from photos that she had seen in the news over the years. All but one, Foster Dorning, were longtime members. In front of each man sat a chunk of solid amber carved in an octagonal design.
Tamara Wyatt was also present, looking elegant and very tense. She was not seated at the great council table but rather in a chair that Lydia suspected was designed for an honored guest.
Everyone turned to look at Lydia when she moved into the room. A shocked silence fell. With the exception of Emmett, everyone wore expressions of blank-faced astonishment. Clearly the members of the Cadence Guild Council were not accustomed to having their meetings interrupted.
Emmett's hard face and eyes gave no indication of his reaction to her presence but she did not need to be a mind reader to figure out that he was not thrilled.
"Gentlemen," he said, rising deliberately from his position of authority at the head of the table, "allow me to introduce my wife, Lydia."
The men all stood politely, nodded brusquely, and murmured an acknowledgment of the introduction.
"Mrs. Wyatt, you've already met my wife," Emmett added, still speaking in that cold, formal tone.
"Yes, of course. A pleasure to see you again, Lydia."
Yeah, right, Lydia thought. She and Tamara had met on only one previous occasion, a small dinner party at Mercer Wyatt's mansion. She was pretty sure that both of them had known from the get-go that they were not fated to be great buddies.
She was a little taken aback by the signs of strain that marked Tamara's patrician profile. But the woman had been under a lot of stress lately, she reminded herself.
She inclined her head, once. "Mrs. Wyatt."
Perkins hovered anxiously in the doorway. "Mr. London?"
"It's all right, Perkins," Emmett said. "I'll handle this."
"Yes, sir." Clearly relieved, Perkins backed out of the room and closed the heavy door.
Emmett fixed Lydia with a look that would have frozen a ghost. "I'm a little busy at the moment, my dear. Perhaps you would be more comfortable waiting in my office."
She swallowed heavily and collected her nerve. "I'll be quite comfortable right here, thank you." She walked quickly across the chamber and sat down next to Tamara. "Mrs. Wyatt and I have so much in common." She gave all of the men at the table a cool smile. "What with both of us being Guild wives and all."
To Lydia's amazement it was Tamara who backed her up.
"As the wife of the acting head of the Cadence Guild, Mrs. London has as much right to be here at this meeting as I do," Tamara said with icy authority.
Lydia was not sure why Tamara was leaping to her defense but she decided she had better not waste the opportunity.
"Just another Guild wife right," Lydia said, crossing her legs very deliberately. She gave the Council members a blazingly bright smile. "You know what they say about rights, use 'em or lose 'em. I'm here to make sure mine get used. All of them."
At the table, ten jaws dropped. Emmett's went rigid. Veiled respect and something that might have been gratitude lit Tamara's eyes.
Understanding had dawned in the Council chamber. Lydia saw relief on the faces of most of the men. Only one of the council members looked angry.
"I'm delighted to see that, as a new Guild wife, you are aware of our traditions," Tamara said smoothly.
"You bet." Lydia regarded the table full of men. "Don't mind me, gentlemen. I'll just sit here very quietly and not bother anyone. Unless, of course, I feel I need to speak up in order to defend my Guild wife rights."
Emmett's eyes were ice cold but he turned his attention back to the meeting.
"We will return to
the business at hand, gentlemen." He nodded at an older man at the far end of the table. "Mr. Chao, please call for a vote."
Chao rose quickly. "All those in favor of accepting the appointment of Emmett London as acting Guild Chief until Mercer Wyatt is able to resume his duties, please so signify with amber."
One by one each of the ten Council members moved his chunk of amber out toward the center of the table. The last to vote was the youngest member of the council. Lydia estimated that he was in his mid-thirties.
Foster Dorning, she thought.
Dorning hesitated before casting his vote. He stared straight at Lydia. She was shaken by the rage that flashed across his face. But he recovered quickly and pushed his amber octagon toward the center of the table.
She could have sworn that, with the notable exceptions of Dorning and Emmett, everyone else breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"There being no objections to the appointment, it is hereby confirmed," Chao announced. He sat down, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and mopped his brow. "This Council looks forward to advising you, Mr. London."
"Thank you, gentlemen." Emmett got to his feet. "The confirmation vote being the only item on the agenda today, this meeting is hereby adjourned."
One by one the members of the Council filed out of the chamber.
When the last of the men had departed Lydia took one look at Emmett and sucked in a deep breath.
She had never seen him look so angry.
She glanced at the door and considered a run for the elevator. That would be the coward's way out, she chided herself. She wasn't afraid of Emmett's wrath. Then again there was that Old Earth saying about discretion being the better part of valor.
"Thank you, Lydia." Tamara rose from her chair. "I must say, your timing was excellent. I warned Emmett that Dorning was planning to issue a formal challenge. That was the very last thing we needed right now." She frowned curiously. "How did you find out about it?"
"I heard a rumor," Lydia said. "At lunch."
"If you don't mind, Tamara." Emmett's voice was much too soft. "I'd like to talk to my wife in private."
Annoyance glittered in Tamara's eyes but she nodded calmly. "If you'll excuse me, Lydia, I'll be on my way back to the hospital."
Lydia told herself that some sort of polite inquiry was probably in order. "How is Mr. Wyatt doing?"
"He's in stable condition but he's still heavily sedated." Tamara sounded abruptly weary. "The doctors say that the most serious concern now is the psi burn he got from the ghost he used to stop the bleeding. It took a lot out of him." She hesitated. "He's not a young man anymore."
She walked out the door and closed it behind her.
A heavy silence descended on the chamber. Lydia braced herself.
Emmett circled the long table, halted in front of it, leaned back, and folded his arms.
"When did you first hear about the tradition of Guild wife rights?" he asked as if he was merely curious.
She cleared her throat. "Quite recently, as a matter of fact."
"I see. Who told you?"
"A friend of Melanie's mentioned it in passing."
"A hunter friend, I assume?"
"Uh-huh. Look, Emmett, I can see you're angry about this but I was only trying to help. When Jack told me that there were rumors of a possible Council challenge brewing and that there was a simple way to stop it, I figured, what the heck, why not just pull the plug on it before it got off the ground."
"I see."
"I knew you would never ask me to help you because you wouldn't want me to think that you were just using me. But we're pretty good friends now and I don't mind, honest."
"Good friends," he repeated neutrally.
"Okay, more than friends," she said cautiously.
"Yeah, I'd say that, seeing as how we're married and all."
She gripped the arms of the chair. "Please don't twist my words. I told you, I was only trying to help."
"That's the real reason for our MC, isn't it? You were just trying to help."
This was not going well. "Jack made it clear that the only way I could protect you from a challenge was if I was legally married to you."
"So your little slip of the tongue to the media yesterday didn't happen because you felt cornered or because you didn't want everyone referring to you as my mystery mistress. It was a calculated move designed to push me into marriage."
She sighed. "You're really pissed, aren't you?"
"Can I assume that the headlines in the Tattler about my Mystery Mistress were not an accident, either?"
She drew a deep breath. "I did sort of pick up the phone and give the paper an anonymous tip."
"Knowing it would lead to us getting married?"
"No." She spread her hands. "Back at the start of this thing I just wanted the media to stop hinting that you had shot Mercer Wyatt because you and he and Tamara were all part of a lovers' triangle. I was afraid that the police might take the gossip seriously. I mean, let's face it, you don't have a very good alibi for the period of time when Wyatt was shot."
"So you figured that if it got out that I had a secret mistress the media would stop implying that I had a motive to shoot Wyatt?"
"Yeah, that's pretty much it." She sagged against the back of the chair. "And then Jack told me about the possible Council challenge and Guild wife rights and this big meeting today. One thing led to another. I just kept getting in deeper and deeper."
"And now we're married."
"Only for a year." She heaved another sigh. "Like I said, I was only trying to help."
He straightened away from the table and went to stand at the window overlooking the parade route far below.
"I don't suppose it occurred to you that I might have wanted Dorning to make a formal challenge?" he said neutrally.
She stared at his broad shoulders, dumbfounded. "For heaven's sake, why?"
"To get the opposition out into the open. In my experience, it's always a lot easier to deal with it that way."
"You mean you intended to give Dorning an opening to make a formal challenge?"
"Yes."
"Oh, lord." A terrible sense of doom descended on her. "I screwed things up for you, didn't I?"
"Yes."
She wished the floor would open up beneath her so that she could sink into a catacomb. "I'm sorry."
"Uh-huh."
"How was I supposed to know what was going on?" she demanded. "You never bothered to tell me your plans."
"Don't you get it?" He turned his head to look at her. "I've been doing my best to keep you at arm's length from Guild politics."
"You can't keep me out of this." She shot to her feet, thoroughly incensed now. "I'm your wife. I've got a right to help protect you."
He swung fully around to face her. "I ran the Cadence Guild for six years without the benefit of having a wife to shield me from a formal challenge. I can deal with the likes of Dorning. I don't need your protection, Lydia. Stay out of this."
She pulled herself together. "Of course. You're absolutely right. What was I thinking? The Guild is your world, not mine. I should never have tried to interfere."
"Lydia—"
She looped the strap of her shoulder bag over her arm and went to the door. "There's one other thing you should know."
"What is that?" he asked.
"I took Jack and Melanie to lunch at the Riverside Grill today. There was a little scene with the maitre d' and I sort of tossed your name around somewhat freely in order to get a table."
"I see."
She drew a deep breath. "And I charged our meals to the Guild."
"The bill will be taken care of," he said quietly.
"Like the dress?"
"Like the dress," he agreed.
She nodded, more depressed than ever. "Just another Guild business expense."
"Yes."
Probably how he thought of their marriage, she decided. Just another business expense.
She let hersel
f out into the reception area and closed the door of the Council chamber very quietly behind her.
He watched the closed door for a long time thinking about how much had gone wrong in the past couple of days. The derailing of his plans to force Dorning's hand was the least of the lengthy string of disasters, he thought. He was a lot more worried about his marriage, which appeared to be on the rocks after less than twenty-four hours.
After a while he opened the door and went out into the hushed lobby. Perkins watched him uneasily.
"I apologize for not handling that well, sir. I regret to say that I did not know what to do with Mrs. London when she arrived. I was completely unprepared—"
"Never mind, Perkins. Few people are ever prepared to deal with Mrs. London."
Perkins relaxed slightly. "She is rather unusual, isn't she? I recall Mr. Wyatt saying something similar when he instructed me to open the file on her."
"File? What the hell are you talking about?"
Perkins trembled in alarm when Emmett advanced toward his desk. "The file on Lydia Smith, sir."
"Wyatt had you open a file on her?"
"Yes, sir."
Emmett planted both hands on the polished surface and leaned toward Perkins. "When?"
"There was a formal inquiry following an unfortunate incident in the catacombs a few months ago. Miss Smith maintained that two Guild members had failed to carry out their assignments properly and as a result she very nearly died underground. The charges were quite serious so naturally Mr. Wyatt was apprised of the situation."
"Where is that file?"
"I'll get it for you, sir." Perkins leaped nimbly to his feet and went to unlock the heavily secured door of the file room.
Emmett watched him open a long, metal drawer and pluck out a yellow folder.
"The results of the inquiry were satisfactory." Perkins handed the folder to Emmett. "The two Guild men were completely exonerated of all charges. But Mr. Wyatt had some lingering concerns about that pair of hunters. He spoke with their commanders and instructed them to watch both men for a while. But in the end, the problem, if there was one, went away."
Emmett opened the file. "What do you mean, it went away?"
"The two hunters resigned from the Guild a couple of months after the inquiry. They said they wanted to pursue other careers." Perkins's shoulders moved in an elegant shrug. "As you are well aware, sir, it is not at all uncommon for hunters who have worked for several years and who have been financially successful to retire from excavation work."