Moth and Spark

by Anne Leonard

  When they came to a flight of steps beside a balcony, he paused. Below, many men and women, colorful and elegant, were walking across a wide hall. She could have spent time just watching from above. Somewhere close musicians were tuning their instruments. “The entrance to the ballroom is through there,” he said, gesturing downward.

  She took a step forward, stopped. “I don’t even know what I am to call you.”

  “You’ve already made ‘Highness’ into a parody,” he said drily. “What’s left? ‘Your Gracelessness’?”

  She blushed.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, kissing her forehead. “It would matter if it were politics or diplomacy or a High Court. It’s not, it’s a ball.” He made an amused sort of noise. “You should be able to entertain yourself highly while they try to figure out what to call you. Do be nice about it, though, will you?”

  “I’ll try,” she said. “This sort of thing always makes me devilish, I don’t know why.”

  “Because you get bored with people less clever than yourself, which is most everybody,” he said. “I will do my best not to abandon you to them too much. The first dance, clearly, and I will certainly be ambushed several times by politickers. But that should be it.”

  “You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you had nothing but pleasure to think of.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “It’s an irremediable character defect. Come, let’s go in.”

  The ballroom was splendidly lit, very crowded, and insufferably hot. Tam had a moment of unreasoning panic, fear that she might get lost or sucked away. She gripped Corin’s hand and felt her palm sweating. It was hard to breathe. She understood Talia’s advice about drinking plenty of water. The sound of voices was a loud roar. She tried to ignore the people looking at them and hoped there was no one she knew.

  “Here,” he said, almost pushing her into a cushioned chair against the wall. “Sit. It should be better soon, it always crowds up by the entrance at the beginning. When music starts people thin out. I have to go find Mari, will you be all right here? Do you want to come with me? Should I find you a partner?”

  “I’ll stay here,” she said, with a forced smile. “Until you come. I’ll be fine, it was just so hot there.” He squeezed her hand, then disappeared into the press of dark-clothed men and wide-skirted ladies. It was only a ball, she had been to balls before.

  It could not have been more than a minute before a young and fairly good-looking man appeared beside her. “Are you unaccompanied, my lady? Might I have the honor of the first dance?”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, and felt the impishness begin to rise. “I am already engaged, my partner has just had to step away.”

  “A later one then?”

  “Perhaps. If you might ask me then?”

  “Of course, of course.” He kissed her hand, bowed, and walked away.

  One.

  The next man was average-looking, blond, about forty, not fat yet but headed inexorably there. He wore a heavy ring on his right hand that suggested considerable wealth. He bowed before speaking and said, “I would be most delighted if I might have the honor of your company as the ball begins, my lady.” He sounded powerful; his voice had the inflections of high rank.

  “I regretfully must decline, my lord,” she said, “as I have already been engaged for the first three dances.”

  “I will take the fourth,” he said, in the tone of one who is used to receiving what he demands. She had never heard Corin use that voice, not even to servants. It riled her.

  “I’m afraid that will not be possible, your lordship,” she said. She shouldn’t, she shouldn’t. But the words would not stay back. “I’ve just decided to give it to the first gentleman who asks me courteously.”

  His face darkened, and he turned stiffly away. Several men standing nearby laughed.

  Two.

  It was another minute or so before the third one appeared. He was so young and awkward that she felt sorry for him, and refused as gently as she could.

  The fourth man was Therry, who was clearly expecting to be turned down but said it never hurt to ask. She spoke briefly with him, then sent him on his way. He joined Darrin and Jenet farther down the hall. Jenet gave Tam a rueful smile, shrugging her shoulders. It could not have been clearer that she had told him not to bother. Tam wondered if Jenet had already seen her with Corin. Likely not.

  The fifth one was more clever, which was all that saved him from a snapped reply; she wanted to be left alone by now. She should have gone with Corin, he could have found an innocuous partner for her. If only the music would start.

  This man was handsome and obviously of high rank, but his tone was friendly and not arrogant as he said, “May I inquire as to your intentions for the sixth dance, my lady?”

  “The sixth?”

  “You have been turning away all who asked for your company, my lady. Including His Grace the Duke of Dele, who has probably not been rejected for years. I therefore assume that I would also be rejected for the first few dances, for whatever the reason. But you might not yet be engaged for the sixth one.”

  “Well . . .” she said, even as she was thinking in a panic that she had insulted the Duke of Dele, which could cause trouble for Corin. On the other hand, this man seemed to approve of it. And other men had laughed, perhaps the duke had no real power here. She knew from her brother that he had no real power in Dele either.

  Carefully, she said, “I do not have the honor of knowing your lordship by face. May I in turn inquire as to whom I would be dancing with?”

  “Or rejecting? Mattan of Harin.”

  Another duke. But considerably more polite. She said, “Sir, the truth is that I am engaged for the entire evening. But I will happily give you a dance in spite of this if you will help me fend off any other askers.”

  He laughed. “Done. If I just sit down . . .”

  “I think that would help a great deal.”

  “And your partner, why has he left you here to myself and the other wolves? Do not tell me he has been such a cad as to abandon you.”

  “I don’t believe he expected there to be quite so many,” she said honestly.

  “He must be young. A beautiful face that has not been seen before is to men as a candle-flame to moths,” he said.

  For just an instant she remembered the darkness fluttering out of Cade’s mouth. Her skin pricked. But she could not think about such things now. It was the ball, and a duke was waiting for her to introduce herself. Mattan had probably made the comment a dozen times to other women, and she thought cynically that it was the diamond necklace that really drew the men. Best to disillusion him at once.

  She said, “I hope they would not be too disappointed to learn a face is all I have to give them, my lord, whether they are wolves or moths. I’ve no title at all.”

  “That need not be a concern at a mere ball,” he said. He took her hand and kissed it, his dark eyes sparkling. Damn. “You do have a name?”

  “Tam Warin, my lord.” She said it with downcast eyes. She had trapped herself by her own request, but she could perhaps be less interesting. She hoped Corin would not see. Why had she come for the first dance at all?

  “Tam. Liddean, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed, sir.” A sustained measure of music finally came.

  “I hate to see you sitting here alone for the first dance.”

  “In truth, my lord, as this is my first ball here, I very much wish to watch. There are so many people I do not know yet. Perhaps you will tell me who is who.” Then her tongue betrayed her again. “Unless there is a lady who might think you a cad for abandoning her?”

  “I don’t have a chance with you, do I?” he said cheerfully.

  “Not a bit,” Tam said, relieved. There was no displeasure or seriousness on his face.

  “He’s a lucky man. Well
, if I can’t charm you I can at least entertain you. But I have to warn you that I don’t know all the current scandals.”

  And then there was a real swell of music, and the talking quieted, and the people standing found chairs or leaned out of the way against the wall. The ball had begun.

  It was beautiful in its way, the perfect circles each couple made as they traveled the larger circle, and the colorful wide sweeping circles of the skirts. The lights were low and golden, the music rich and resonant. Corin was a good dancer, and she would have enjoyed watching him if she had not even known him. His sister was better, but he kept up with her. They looked very much alike. Mari, much to Tam’s self-righteous pleasure, wore a deep green gown without the slightest hint of rose. She was tall also, though fair-haired. Corin kept his attention focused on his sister and did not look in Tam’s direction at all.

  Mattan turned out to be a useful companion, as he knew who almost everybody was. If he did not know all the current scandals he certainly knew many of the old ones, and he could be delightfully caustic. Now that he had stopped seducing her, she found that she liked him. He pointed out an attractive red-haired woman dancing with a much older man, smiling falsely. “There’s a scandal in the making,” he said. “Duke Simoun and his wife Seana. Now that she’s been dropped by His Highness, she’s going to have to look elsewhere, and she’s not going to find anyone else who can get around the duke so well.”

  “Dropped?” she asked, knowing she should not. She was afraid of hearing something that would taint Corin for her, even if she did not believe it.

  “With a crash. There’s Corin now, with his sister. He’s getting slipperier every year.”

  Tam changed the subject somehow, then looked for other people she knew. Cina, having an absent husband, was sitting on the other side of the room speaking with several other women. The young married women whose husbands were not present would dance later, with very carefully selected partners. Jenet and Darrin were dancing with each other as though they were the only people in the room. They both looked very young. Alina was dancing with a dark-haired, thin-faced, handsome man, who had his hand lower on her waist than he should have.

  He turned his head. Tam met his eyes. They burned into her. He hits her, she thought. She looked away quickly. “Who is that?” she asked Mattan.

  He frowned. “Arnet. A girl that young should avoid him. I hope she has a friend to warn her. He’s only a baron, but he has plenty of power.”

  Corin had warned her against him, but he had been vague. Seeing him, she had no need for the warning. She hoped he would not remember her. Alina would point her out, though, there was no chance of being ignored. “Why should she stay away from him?”

  “He’ll use her until he’s bored, then cast her off with nothing. There’s four girls I can think of without even trying who made much poorer marriages than they should have because they let him have them first.”

  She wondered how much “letting” was involved, but she was not about to argue such things with him now. Alina, that fool, would play right into his hands. That kind of girl always did; she had seen enough of them begging her father for help. Then it occurred to her that Alina might know exactly what she was doing. She looked again at Arnet and tried to imagine him in a rainy courtyard at night. Perhaps. He was tall enough. She would have to see him walk.

  She could not discuss that with Mattan, though. “What if she made that mistake with some other man?”

  “If he was a proper lover, no one would ever know. And even if it came out, he’d only need to pay for her to go abroad for a year in high style, and by the time she came back it would all have been ‘forgotten.’ That’s not Arnet’s way. He’s cruel to his tenants, too.”

  That would be why Corin had called him vicious. It did not reassure her.

  Mattan added, “His wife was found hanged a few years back. He killed her one way or the other, and everyone knows it. If she really did commit suicide, he drove her to it. Is that girl a friend of yours?”

  “Not a friend, only an acquaintance I don’t much care for. But I don’t wish her harm.”

  “Someone else will have to charm her away from him,” he remarked. “She’d probably end up with a broken heart, but that will have to happen sometime, won’t it.”

  “I’d advise you not to try it yourself, my lord,” she said. “You’d tire of her in about two minutes and it would take much longer to shake her off.”

  “Pity,” he said. “She’s got quite a nice figure.”

  Was that all men thought about? With Alina, however, that was all she wanted them to think about.

  When the dance ended, Corin was somewhere at the top of the room. She stood up. It felt too conspicuous to wait for him. “If you will excuse me, my lord,” she said. “I have enjoyed our conversation.”

  “I as well,” he said. “If your gentleman does turn out a cad, I should like to be the first to tell him so.”

  The floor was crowded enough that she was afraid the next dance would begin before she reached him. But when she had finally curtsied and smiled and excused her way through, it had not.

  He was talking to someone, and she watched a moment, enjoying looking at him when he was not aware of her. There was what she expected was a usual cluster of men around him, wineglasses in their hands, their voices confident and loud. All the worry she had felt earlier came rushing back.

  He turned, saw her. His face lit up like a boy’s, and he passed his glass off to another man without even looking at him. She felt a surge of love. When they met he moved her expertly into the dance circle; the music started before they had time to say more than a few commonplace things to each other.

  They were observed. It made her nervous and she missed a step. He said, “Don’t mind them.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Because they’re always there. Like flies, circling, buzzing close when they get a chance. Difficult to swat.”

  She took some time to answer, said, “That sounds a lot like a whine, Corin.”

  “I suppose it was.” He did not sound repentant. But after a few more beats he said, seriously, “You’re right. I will do better.” Then he smiled at her, that soft sweet smile of his, and she found herself melting.

  She was careful not to stare too long into his eyes, that was too intimate for public. His hand was firm and warm against her back. He did not say much, just looked at her.

  “You know,” she said, “I loved you from the moment I saw you, before I even knew who you were.”

  “When was that?”

  “When you came back from the north. You were very muddy. I thought you were a soldier.”

  “How long was it before you were disillusioned?”

  “Seconds. I was disappointed.”

  “You aren’t now, are you?” he asked. “If you prefer me muddy I can oblige.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said, smiling, laughing, full of wanting. They touched each other but were so far apart in the formal positions.

  Corin said, “Do you like Mattan?”

  “I didn’t know you saw.”

  “I notice most things,” he said, and there was something quite serious about it. His eyes must be busy constantly, so he was not caught by surprise, so he could adjust to the smallest changes before others did. It seemed a hard way to live.

  “He made himself very agreeable,” she said. “I liked him. But I don’t know if I would trust him with anything I cared much about. He seemed impulsive.”

  “I have that feeling too. But in all fairness to him, he’s never given me reason for it. He’s got his province well in hand and prosperous. His villagers like him, and so do his barons, which is not an easy combination to achieve.” His eyes reminded her that war was on its way. And Harin would take the first blows.

  “He’s clever. I promised him a dance.” She told
of their bargain.

  He said, “You realize he got the better of you, don’t you?”

  “How so?”

  “He would have stayed talking to you and keeping the others away even if you hadn’t said you would dance. The art of power, my love, is making people give you something for nothing and think they are being rewarded in the process. He’s quite good at it.”

  It sounded very cold. She remembered again that she had seen only the gentler side of him.

  “And you haven’t learned yet how much power you have,” he added. “You are so astonishingly beautiful that he would easily have given you something for nothing.”

  “I’m not going to manipulate people like that!”

  “No. You’re direct and forthright. You would rather win with logic than anything else. But if you stay with me, people will try to manipulate you, and you have to be able to defend yourself. You’re going to have to behave in ways you don’t like, Tam.”

  She knew he was right. That was what he meant about her having political value. It would have been better to stay hidden. They were already past the freedom of just loving. “You don’t mind about it, do you?” she asked uncertainly.

  “About the dance? No. And if I did, it wouldn’t signify. I’m not your master, Tam. You make your own choices. I don’t need to be jealous.” He smiled his own most sly smile and said, “Besides, I’ll enjoy watching you.”

  “I’m sure you won’t be the only one,” she said, and saw that her dig had been quite as effective as his. “You can’t monopolize me, you know.”

  “I can and I will,” he said, still grinning. “What’s the use of rank and power if not for that? You haven’t made any other bad bargains, have you?”

  “No.” Then she remembered. “Worse. Oh, Corin, I made an awful mistake. I was rude to the Duke of Dele.”

  “You were rude to the Duke of Dele.” His tone gave no hint as to whether he was angry.

  “I didn’t know he was the duke, I do have more sense than that.”

  “But you did mean to be rude, no doubt?”