The musicians in the gallery struck up a lively swirl, and Lera took an involuntary step back. Even in Denalay, when she’d attended celebrations hosted by the Admiralty, she hadn’t danced, partly because she’d never felt she had much to celebrate and partly because it drew too much attention. Besides, she stood out too much already in her uniform, whereas every other woman was in a dress.
She felt a little better when she saw Charlotte in a gown plain except for bare branches embroidered on the skirts. Then Charlotte came to greet her and Jason, which was enough time for the branches to sprout to her waistline and burst into leaf. She left before Lera could get a closer look, and Jason said the dress was from Lunacy—expensive, naturally, but employees of the Science Institute could afford it.
Alyster was on the floor with a dark-haired woman in a red gown, but Lera needed a moment to recognize Miri, the woman he’d brought from home for some reason. Not just a civilian, but only half-Denalait, or so rumor had it. Still, she looked very pretty with her hair up and crimson roses in it. Lera briefly considered doing something similar, but all the flowers in sight would have clashed with her hair.
Oh well. Jason kept her company and told her what he knew about the different guests as they sipped champagne and watched everyone. Though he fell silent when a crutch thudded on the floor, and Garser limped up to them with a woman at his side. He looked imposing in full-dress uniform, and the woman was a willowy blonde in green silk, whom he introduced as his wife Katherine.
He was perfectly cordial, and Katherine Garser thanked them both for their invaluable assistance in her husband’s mission, but it took an effort for Lera to look the woman in the eye and say something appropriate in reply. They finally left, and she drank all the rest of her champagne in a gulp.
Jason grinned. “Let’s go outside for a while,” he said. “No one will miss us.”
Lera was quite agreeable, so they went out to a balcony. She could still enjoy the music drifting from inside, but the night seemed larger and much more peaceful than the glittering, busy ballroom. Pushing herself up to the rail, she sat on it—that was something no lady would have done, or could have done in some of those skirts—while Jason said he would get them both more champagne.
He disappeared into the ballroom. Lera waited, but it seemed to be taking him a much longer time to refill their glasses than she expected.
“Lord Kevin?”
If he hadn’t been sitting alone on the velvet-upholstered couch, and if the servant hadn’t looked directly at him, Kovir wouldn’t have taken any notice, because obviously someone else was being addressed. “Me?” he said. “Kovir.”
The servant apologized. “Lord Kovir?” He held out a silver tray.
The food was tasty, though Kovir wondered why it was all in such small portions. Perhaps Dagrans didn’t have much in the way of appetite. He selected bread cut in two slivers with smoked salmon between them, and thanked the servant, who looked a little confused and went away.
Kovir ate the morsel and still felt hungry, although another servant came by with game sausages the size of his smallest finger, and he took two. For the first time that night, he relaxed. Not only was the couch comfortable, it was in the perfect spot—out of the way, yet giving him a good enough view of the ballroom floor. Just the kind of location a scout wanted, now that he came to think about it.
His feet ached slightly, but that was only because he’d been standing on ceremony. The swelling was gone, and he could wear shoes again, though those felt as uncomfortably foreign as the rest of his clothes. He thought of slipping into his shark’s mind, hunting with her, but if he did that he might not notice anyone else trying to get his attention. Oh well, it was only for one night and then he could go home.
A woman left the ballroom floor and came to sit on the couch beside him, skirts rustling as she smoothed them out of the way. “Kovir, I hope you’re enjoying yourself.” She beckoned a servant closer. “Would you like some more champagne?”
“Thank you, Lady Alexis.” Kovir took one of the misty-cold glasses. His left arm twinged if he moved it, so he set the glass down and helped himself to a chilled oyster. That was covered with a lemon-vinegar sauce that stung his mouth pleasantly.
Lady Alexis looked him over from head to heel. Since she had chosen his clothes, he supposed she wanted to be sure he’d put them on correctly. He must have passed muster, because she smiled and said, “I noticed you watching the other guests. Would you like me to introduce you to anyone?”
Kovir took a long swallow of champagne to give himself time to think. He couldn’t dance or flirt, that was for sure, but it would be nice to just talk with someone whose company he would enjoy. Except he’d already seen how young men socialized at a ball: they were either in a group, or they paired off with attractive girls. They didn’t sit down for a chat with another man.
“No, thank you.” He decided to change the topic, hopefully without her noticing he’d done that too. “But there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask your advice about.”
“Oh?” She looked pleased. “Go ahead.”
“Are there any specific duties I have as the Earl of Loftmark?” When Kovir had first heard about an honorary rank, back on Checkmate, it had been meaningless and he hadn’t paid it any attention because his priority had been the new assignment. Now, though, it was suddenly brought home to him that he’d been given custody of land on which people might live.
Would he have to look after those people or make decisions about their lives? He didn’t look forward to that at all, and he could only hope the earlship wasn’t another responsibility the Dagrans had saddled him with.
When Lady Alexis smiled again, it wasn’t with the practiced charm she’d shown earlier, but with genuine warmth. “It’s rare that one finds people who ask what they need to do, rather than what they’ll get out of being made a peer of the realm.”
“Well, I already know I won’t get anything out of it,” Kovir said, and for some reason she laughed. He tried to explain. “It’s an inland province. What good is that to a Seawatch operative?” Even a province on the coast wouldn’t have been much use, though that he could have visited every few years or so.
“That’s probably why you received it.” She tilted her head and looked at him out of slightly narrowed eyes, her gaze shrewd. “Don’t worry about anything being expected of you. But I’m curious. Is there anything in particular you want?”
“To go home.”
“Other than that. Money?” She raised her brows. “Recognition? Love?”
Money? Kovir didn’t know what he’d be supposed to buy that he didn’t already have—food and clothes and a home. He’d need a new watersuit and mask, but Seawatch would provide those. And he’d have recognition enough once he was back in Whetstone, from the people whose opinions of him actually affected his life. His parents would be amazed to hear he’d gone all the way to Dagre, too.
As for love, when he thought of that, his shark came to mind at once. But he knew he was wrong. The first lesson trainees learned was that sharks weren’t dogs, but the second was what sharks were—feral predators under no obligation to love the operatives they worked with. Decades might go into training, but that would still be just a veneer over the inherent wildness.
No, much as he cared about his shark, he couldn’t expect the feeling to be returned, especially given her bad habit of snapping at him every now and then, often when he least expected it. Perhaps it was a good thing he didn’t need love either, though when he looked at the other Denalaits who had been invited to the celebration, he thought of what it might be like to have someone who would walk down to the water’s edge with him.
But the prospect of walking brought a twinge to his feet, reminding him of who he was—a Seawatch operative, not someone who could afford having such fancies, much less giving in to them.
He shook his head. “All I want
is something to eat, and maybe more champagne.” At least those he could be certain of getting.
Lady Alexis called three servants with laden trays over, then got up and told him her husband had claimed her for the waltz. Kovir didn’t have much time to enjoy the solitude, though, because Jason joined him.
“Kovir,” he said without preamble, “I have a business proposition for you.”
That was unexpected. “I don’t have any money.”
Jason looked as though he was trying not to laugh. Did I say something funny again? Kovir wondered, but before he could ask, Jason said, “Let me tell you what I have in mind.”
Kovir ate a stuffed mushroom cap and listened.
Lera was about to return to the ballroom to see what had happened to Jason when he came back out to the balcony with two glasses of champagne. He handed her one and clinked the rim with his.
“You look splendid, by the way,” he said. “Everything below the neck is ready for a warship. Everything above is asking for a bed.”
Lera considered that, then reached up and undid the top button of her uniform coat. It was an unexpected compliment, and what she liked even more was the way he glanced over his shoulder as if to check whether they were visible from inside the ballroom. That made her wonder if there was some place they could be alone. Maybe she’d drunk too much champagne. Better change the subject.
“You’re not going to be in trouble with your superiors, are you?” She remembered rather belatedly what he had told her about his work being in jeopardy. “I mean, you saved people’s lives as much as Captain Garser did. That has to count for something.”
Jason leaned against the rail beside her. “Whether it does or not, I’m resigning.”
“What?” She might have considered resigning, since she had enough money to support herself for a long time, but surely that didn’t apply to him. He hadn’t been able to afford a meal when she’d seen him sitting on the dockside bench that night.
And now that she came to think about it, she’d be better off continuing to work. She didn’t have a ship any longer, but the Admiralty could still find a post for her, and it would be better than doing nothing.
Jason shrugged. “I was good at my profession, but that’s not the same as wanting to spend the rest of my life doing it. Although one meets the most interesting people in brothels. So I always saved my pay with another future in mind.” He sipped his champagne. “The odd thing was, until all this happened, I was reluctant to give up a steady pay and all the security of being employed by the government.”
Lera had felt the same way. Working for the Council of Eyes and Voices had certainly been safer than making them suspicious of her.
He looked out over the balcony as if he saw something other than formal gardens laid out geometrically and a fountain gleaming in the moonlight. “But I won’t waste any more time—or be too hesitant to take a considered risk again. There’s a plot of land near the Mountains of Thunder. It borders a riverbank and there’s a good road to the nearest city, plus more than enough space for a farm. Chilly in winter, warm in summer, perfect for apple orchards. And there’d be pastures for cows.”
For a moment Lera couldn’t speak. The music and laughter and tap of feet faded, and instead she heard the wind through mountain passes, the lowing of calves and the drip of rain from leaves. Each time memories—good or bad—of her parents’ farm intruded, she’d pushed them ruthlessly down, but while her mind had been well trained, her senses apparently weren’t. When she managed to breathe again, she could smell the apples in autumn.
She swallowed. “Sounds very…”
Jason’s hand covered hers where it rested on the rail, warm fingers tightening slightly, as if he’d heard the change in her voice. “Bucolic?”
Whatever that means. “I was going to say peaceful.” She closed her free hand into a fist until her palm hurt enough to remind her where she was, until she heard the harps inside. “But—”
She stopped, aware she’d been about to say something potentially rude, because she hadn’t been thinking as she struggled to return to the present day. Jason raised his brows.
“Say it.” He lifted her hand to his face and held her fingers to his cheek. “You know I can take anything from you.”
“Can you afford it?” she said bluntly.
“Well, I have my savings from my work. My former work. But as it turns out, I know the Earl of Loftmark.”
Lera couldn’t help smiling, though it was odd how quickly she’d recovered from the unwanted recollections. She’d known from the start that he had a shrewd calculating streak, but now she was aware that was tempered by a solid moral compass. He’d pull all the strings he could, but he would never be unfair or cruel about it.
“You have friends in high places,” she said.
He grinned. “Yes, apparently I move in more exalted circles than I realized. That land is part of Loftmark Province, so I stopped to speak with the earl a little while ago, and told him I’d put it to good use. He wasn’t sure at first, but after he heard about how I grew up on a farm, and what my plans were for orchards, he was happy to sell me the land for a most reasonable amount.”
“More than I paid for you?”
“Oh, thrice as much. I mean, this is land we’re talking about.”
Lera chuckled. It hadn’t been fair that she and Kovir got so much of the praise for their mission while Jason went unnoticed, but recognition had never mattered much to him, and now he could build a better life for himself.
“So I’ve bought that land and I’ll be a farmer.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss into her palm. “What I’ve been wondering is…would you care to become a farmer’s wife?”
Lera went still. She was suddenly aware of nothing but air behind her back, how far away the white cobblestones and the geometric lawn were, but she also knew Jason would never let her fall.
“I know as proposals go, that one was…” He frowned, as if even he was lost for words. “Well, presumptuous. Because you want to go back to Denalay. But I had to take the chance.”
She needed to feel solid ground beneath her feet. Pushing off from the rail, she stood on the balcony, her thoughts in a whirl. Her hand still cupped his jaw, held there by his palm, and she felt the throb of his pulse against her skin.
She drew her hand back, because that wasn’t helping her think clearly. It was like being caught in a crosswind, being tugged first one way and then another. She was used to obeying orders, because she knew what happened when people defied established authority. Except there was no law in Denalay which could stop her marrying Jason if she wanted to, and she would like to see anyone try.
But to be with him, she would have to resign her position. She’d lost her ship, but the Admiralty would have given her another—after all, her reputation preceded her. She’d spent half her life on a deck, between the wind and the sea. If she married Jason, she would have to give that up. It was the kind of decision she could never retract; once she made it there would be no going back.
Except it was a choice. She hadn’t decided to become a sailor; she’d joined a ship because it was either that or starvation. She had a choice now, because Jason always gave people choices. That had been clear when he’d spoken to Richard in a last attempt to persuade him to turn back from his course of destruction.
She could go back to Denalay for good, with one more unwanted memory to join the rest of her past, and sail a warship until she died or grew old. Whichever came first. She would have money and her reputation and security, and even if she never stopped searching for something just beyond the horizon, there would be contentment in that life. The wind and the tide had healed her wounds once. They might do it again.
Or she could stay in Dagre and marry Jason. She couldn’t keep one foot on land and one in the water, so she had to make her decision.
“How long do I have to
think about this?” she said.
“As long as you need. I’ll never push you to do something you’re not ready to do. I realize I just—well, sprang this on you, but I was thinking of it all the way home.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
Jason looked rueful. “Because I didn’t want to propose to you until I had a good home for us. I know, you’re Denalait and you don’t need to be supported by a man, but we’re a little behind the times here. All I have is a rented room, and my wife deserves something much better. I wanted us to have a house to ourselves, on land we own.”
“You mean if Kovir hadn’t sold you that land, you wouldn’t have asked me to marry you?” Lera folded her arms. “Maybe I should marry him instead.”
Jason laughed. “Provided you could get past his shark. No, if he hadn’t sold me the land, I’d have thought of some other way. Because I’ll do anything for you.”
His gaze was clear and direct where it rested on her, yet full of tenderness, and she turned towards the garden to compose herself. Something deep in her chest felt full and aching, as breathless as if she was about to cry, and she had no intention of getting so sentimental, even over a marriage proposal.
“So you’ll really give me as much time as I want?” she said, as she would have confirmed a business arrangement.
“Of course. I know Checkmate is leaving tomorrow, so you can think it over in Denalay and send me a letter.” He frowned. “In fact, that might be a better idea.”
“A better idea?” That didn’t make sense, unless he really thought she was going to refuse and had decided on a go-back-to-Denalay preemptive strike.
“Well, yes. I can build our house—I mean, a house on the land and get the farm in order. Then, if you decide to come back, it would be all ready for you.”
The Highest Tide Page 29