“Butler, wherever have you been keeping this one? I can see why you’d want her all to yourself.” He'd the nerve to leer at her, and his woman looked away as if not interested or offended in the conversation in the least. Koenig licked his lips as he continued to stare at her as if she were on the menu for tonight’s meal.
She moved closer to Jonathan.
•●•
Jonathan growled low in his throat. How dare that pig ogle Lady Brandon? The man sunk low before, but this was the lowest. Every fiber in his body yearned to deck the bastard, and his good hand curled into a tight fist.
“Lady Brandon, whatever are you doing with this old soldier?” Koenig waved in the direction of Jonathan. “How is it I haven’t run across you before?” He stared openly at her breasts. The muscles in Jonathan’s jaw jerked in anger.
“Perhaps we run in different circles, sir,” Lady Diane said icily and pulled her wrap around her shoulders as if to cover herself from his eyes.
“Then I must certainly change my circle,” Koenig added smoothly.
“I wouldn’t bother, if I were you.” Her eyes were cold, even though she still smiled. Koenig paused, taking in the comment, and his gaze flicked toward Jonathan.
He tried again. “Perhaps I could call on you, Lady Diane? I’m sure Ambassador Butler wouldn’t mind.” He pulled a calling card from his breast pocket and held it out to her.
“I’m afraid not. I see only Ambassador Butler.” She smiled back at him, refusing to take the card, and tightened her grip on Jonathan’s arm. Butler’s gaze met Koenig’s staring him down until Koenig looked away. Koenig gave a brief bow to Lady Diane.
“We’ll see you later at dinner, Ambassador, Lady Diane,” he sneered and then moved away, dragging the silent woman behind him.
Jonathan and Diane both let out their breaths and looked at each other. His steady gaze begged her forgiveness and hers forgave him.
“What an absolutely horrible man!” She gave a little shudder. “And the woman?”
He looked at her guiltily. “We sit across from them at dinner.” Jonathan waited for her to react, to insist on leaving, to not have to suffer the couple. Koenig acted incredibly insulting, and Jonathan endured it as Koenig eyed Lady Diane.
Feeling guilty at having said or done nothing, still he didn’t know what he could have done. Getting into a fistfight to defend his date’s honor, although satisfying, wouldn’t have been appropriate or dignified. However, he’d known what he wanted to do, and his fists tightened as he thought about it.
He watched Koenig from across the room. Jonathan’s face set like a stone statue, but his soul burned.
Lady Diane leaned in close to him, and whispered, “Sir, he will never touch me.”
Jonathan turned to her and softened under her tender gaze. He reached out and touched the curve of her jaw with the back of his hand. “Diane,” his voice rasped.
For a moment, she leaned into his touch, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he wanted to kiss a woman.
Chapter Fifteen
Diane stared up into Jonathan’s green eyes as he stroked her face. Somewhere deep inside her, a long-dead ember smoldered, then ignited, taking her breath away. She gasped, lips parted, and all she could see were Jonathan’s lips as he leaned in.
The sound of a deep gong announced dinner, and they separated.
“Dinner,” he said, his voice much deeper than before.
She didn’t trust her own, so she nodded and took the arm he offered her.
They turned to go in and find their seats. With all present there were fourteen at table. Butler guided her around to the far end of the table. Their seats were six down from New Commonwealth Ambassador Rohan, but unfortunately across from Koenig. Jonathan held out her chair as she sat and then seated himself.
Diane took a moment to adjust her wrap and gown, then placed her hands in her lap and waited. Since she was placed highly herself as the queen’s social secretary, she was fully aware of the agendas of these events. Usually speeches were made, political points curried, and behind the scenes deals made amongst the attendees. Since this was an embassy function, neither the regent nor the queen were present, but the prime minister and his wife were seated to the right of the ambassador, and she caught his eye and nodded to him.
Koenig and his young woman seated themselves. Diane noticed he did not hold out her chair, but let one of the servants do it. The man was a pig. She sighed, deciding this would be a long night. These events could go on for hours and after dinner there would probably be dancing. Would Butler ask her to dance? It had been years since she’d danced and enjoyed it, caught up in a man’s arms, being swept along the dance floor to the strains of the orchestra.
Perhaps the night wouldn’t be a total disaster. She steeled herself and prepared to make endless small talk, something at which she was a master. On her other side sat Ambassador Feng and his wife. A feeling told her she wouldn’t have to make much conversation with them. They were noticeably distant, not just to her, but to everyone.
Ambassador Rohan stood and began his welcome speech, then neatly segued into his agenda. Trade rights were the issue du jour, and he made several points about the opening of trade through lowering tariffs from outlying worlds and raising them on exports. All of the affected planets' representatives were present. It was a great deal for New Commonwealth, but for their trading partners it was yet to be determined.
Diane noted he mentioned Old Earth frequently, and watched Butler as he responded to Rohan with a very slight nod. Rohan droned on and then eventually gave up the floor to the food, much to everyone’s relief.
The first course arrived, a soup of local prized mushrooms, served in small bowls. The tableware was exquisite. Silver gleamed everywhere. A low centerpiece nestled between every other couple and short candles glowed softly. The lights lowered as the first course came out and would no doubt be raised when the meal was over.
Butler passed on the wine, as she did, and drank only water. Diane deftly added some fresh lemon to hers and sipped. His manners were good, and he could speak on just about any topic. When a topic came up he didn’t know, he would adroitly turn it around and have the questioner explaining it all. As for her, she spoke only when spoken to and never offered her opinion, well aware as his guest her behavior would reflect on him.
However, it was not the case across the table. Diane sat in wonderment as the young woman repeatedly opened her mouth and inserted her foot. Koenig seemed not to care, perhaps knowing no one would pay any attention to the piece of fluff he brought.
“I don’t understand what all the fuss is about. They should be able to charge whatever they want, and if you want their merchandise you should pay for it,” Miss Martin blathered on to the man next to her. He tried to explain how some deals could be beneficial to both parties, but she just shrugged her shoulders. Diane just bet Miss Martin never gave discounts.
During the second course, a cheese plate, Koenig turned his attention back to Butler. His eyes became slits, and he put his elbows on the table and tented his hands.
“Well, Butler, how do you stand on this proposal?”
“It has its merits, however, like most proposals there will be counterproposals to come.”
“Counterproposals?” Koenig snorted. “How will you vote on it? Or are you riding the middle of the road again? You know, you can get killed standing in the middle of the road.” He glared at Butler as if daring him to speak.
“I will be presenting the proposal to the government of Old Earth with my own suggestions as to its merits. It will be up to them to decide its fate.” Butler didn’t rise to the bait, but answered around it.
“I wonder when you were general if you were as vague. You could get a lot of men killed with such indecision.” His lip turned up at Butler, evidently hinting at something Diane didn’t understand. Butler stiffened next to her, and his breath hissed slowly between his clenched teeth. She reached under the table and touched
his leg.
“Ambassador Koenig,” she began, “how exactly will you vote, sir?” He turned to her and smiled, temporarily distracted.
“Lady Brandon, I of course will not support this measure. I see no benefit for Alpha V, since we only export raw materials, but our imported items are vast. The tariffs alone would cripple our economy.” He continued to everyone around them, “Our planet is so new, compared to some of the others, and we have not developed a wide enough range of export items to support such a measure. Perhaps in another twenty years or so we will be in a better position.”
Jonathan listened, and Koenig did make sense. He might be an ass, but he was politically smart. He wouldn’t have gotten where he was if he were any less of a politician. It was true. His planet was in a different economic place, as were a few of the others. This would be a hard vote, and concessions would have to be made on a planet-by-planet basis.
The talk continued, uneventfully, and the final course served, a choice of either local fish or beef. The meal ended, and the lights came up. They were informed dessert, coffee, and after-dinner drinks would be served in the ballroom.
The guests made their way back into the ballroom, and the music started. A quartet of musicians played in the corner of the room, and soft music filled the space. Champagne was passed around on trays by servers, and the doors to the garden were opened. A table was laid with several different desserts, and the small plates and silverware lay out next to them.
The ballroom was so ornate little needed to be done to it. The music played at just the right level. You could still talk over it if you stood close. Small groups of men huddled all around the room, making deals, working up support for the tariff issue, or tearing it down. The women, often deserted, stood on the sidelines, sipped their drinks, ate dessert, and talked to each other.
A set of double doors opened to the garden for anyone who wished to stroll. Thousands of tiny white lights wrapped the trees, covered the bushes, and outlined the walks.
Ambassador Rohan and his wife started the dancing, and soon several other couples took to the floor. Diane and Jonathan stood on the side and watched as the couples danced past them. The music was in a slow tempo, not even as fast as a waltz. He took her drink from her hand, placed it on a nearby table, and led her to the dance floor.
With her heart beating in her ears, she followed him, excited at the prospect of being held in his arms, as if she were a schoolgirl at her first dance. Silly, really, she’d danced countless times before, with countless men.
Jonathan placed his hand on her waist and offered his hand. He’d removed his gloves at dinner, and their palms met, spreading heat between them. She placed one arm on his shoulder, and they moved slowly to the music. He was a good dancer and led well. Their bodies were close, but not touching. She looked past his shoulder and could just see over it as she watched the other dancers. His cologne, a musky but clean scent, filled her nostrils, and she quietly breathed it in.
•●•
Jonathan’s chin came just to the top of Diane’s head, and her hair brushed it as they moved. She smelled so very good, and he was sure most of it was her own body scent.
If he lowered his head just a bit his lips might nuzzle her ear, but he didn’t do it, afraid of being seen as too forward in such a public place. He’d seen how she treated Koenig’s insolence, and he had no taste for it tonight.
They danced until the song ended and then separated. As they started to leave, Jonathan pulled her to him swiftly to dance again as Koenig advanced toward them. But when Koenig saw them begin to dance, he backed off, waiting for his chance.
“Dance over to the door to the garden, and as soon as this dance is over we can make our exit,” she suggested to him.
“Good strategy, Diane, a hasty retreat, indeed.”
“More like an escape, with camouflage thrown in,” she said, and he grinned at her joke.
“Too bad I’m not wearing my old camo fatigues. We’d blend in better.”
“But what would I wear?” she asked as she gazed up at him, a tease dancing in her blue eyes.
“I’ll hide you under a bench.”
“But my gown, it would be ruined. Think again,” she challenged him.
“You could strike a pose and pretend you were a statue.”
“That’s good. I hope there are no birds.”
He barked out a laugh. “Not at night, so you’re safe.”
“Then it’s the perfect plan.” She laughed.
“There is no perfect plan; there is only the plan you start with, then life happens, and you adjust.” He frowned, thinking of his own disastrous perfect plan.
They danced on, and she spoke again, “What did Koenig mean by ‘indecision could get men killed’?”
He didn’t answer at first, wishing like hell they’d never met the bastard Koenig, and then he exhaled. “It was an attempt to irritate me and perhaps set me off. There was an incident during the Ottoman War. Men were lost due to my indecision. I hesitated, and it cost many men their lives.”
She tilted her head. “But you won the war, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but there are many battles in a war. You know going in you’re going to win some of them and lose some. It’s how they’re lost that matters. Losing due to the superiority of your enemy is one thing. Losing by your own negligence is another thing.”
She frowned. “Were you negligent?”
“No, nothing as great as that. I was just too slow.”
“I understand how the loss of personnel can weigh on the commanding officer.” She met his gaze and smiled softly.
He swallowed and pulled her just a little closer. The music ended, and they were positioned adjacent to the doors leading to the garden. In three steps they were through them and into the night.
•●•
Duke Brandon entertained a few of his old cronies, men he served with almost forty years ago. Most were dukes now, like him, but others held merely their old ranks, and a few of those made general. All sported either gray or white hair, what little was left of it, and each wore his old uniform. They sat around a large round table in the library specially set up for the evening, as they played cards and drank.
“My soon to be granddaughter-in-law will be teaching me poker tomorrow,” Brandon announced to the others smugly. He was in an excellent mood, happy really, and why not? He’d solved the mystery of the weapon, and his grandson would be getting married to an incredible woman.
“Poker? It’s a gambling game, isn’t it?” one of the generals asked.
“Yes, it is.” Brandon drew another card, not the one he wanted.
“I hope she’s teaching you to cheat, Alistair. I can’t see you parting with any of your money.” Everyone laughed good-naturedly at the joke.
“Did you say daughter-in-law? You don’t mean that grandson of yours finally got caught?” another man asked as he placed four cards on the discard pile.
“She’s not pregnant is she?” another suggested, sketching a large belly with his hand. Brandon glared at him.
“How dare you, sir! I should invite you outside!” The insinuation riled Brandon, and he stood as the other man pushed back his chair also.
“Sit down, Brandon! It was more a remark about Stephen than the girl. He has a reputation, after all.” The man made motions with his hands to sit down, and shook his head, his eyes laughing. He sat in his chair and grinned at the others stirring Brandon up.
“In that case, point taken.” Brandon took a sip of his drink and sat back. “This girl is different. She’ll give Stephen the challenge he needs. She’s no pushover, her.”
“Who is she, then?”
“Ambassador Butlers’ daughter. Her name is Brett.” He lifted his eyebrows as if to say, “how about it.”
“I’ve heard about her from my wife. Seems she is making quite a favorable impression on the womenfolk. I hear she is beautiful.”
Brandon nodded. “She is, gentlemen. However, she is
also smart, brave, honorable, and best of all, Stephen is in love with her!” He raised his glass in toast and became serious. “Here’s to grandchildren!”
The men all stood, held up their glasses in a serious salute, and shouted, “To grandchildren!” and one added, “May the first child be a son!” and they all drained their glasses in one gulp.
•●•
Jonathan led Diane into the garden and down the path, then veered off to the left. At the end of the path stood a bench. She sat in a swirl of fabric on one end of it, and he stood next to her, at parade rest, his hands behind his back.
“Ambassador Butler, will you please sit down?” She motioned to the empty space next to her on the bench. He moved to her side, brushed his tails behind him, and sat with his hands between his knees. She waited for him to speak.
“I stopped wearing my wedding ring only a year ago,” he began tentatively, and then his voice faded as he stalled out.
There was a brief silence until she spoke, “The duke was right. Six months after Marston died there were men everywhere. However, I wasn’t finished crying, and Stephen was devastated. So the years passed, and I was done crying, but Stephen was still in no condition.” She shook her head, and shrugged. “I just couldn’t drag some man into his life. What would I have said, ‘Surprise, son, here’s your new father!’” She looked down at her hands and shrugged.
“Brett encouraged me to strike out on my own. Of course, she was twenty-four, a mature adult, she understood, but I wasn’t ready.” He rubbed his hands on his legs.
“I soon realized Stephen had been so hurt by his father’s death, he might never be ready to accept someone.” She paused and looked out at the lights in the garden. Her voice lowered. “I took a lover when Stephen was fourteen.”
Jonathan tried not to look at her, but the surge of jealousy shooting through him couldn’t allow him an image of her having a lover.
“I…” she paused, and her voice dropped even lower, “craved the touch of a man again. At least it’s what I thought at the time. But I soon realized what I craved was the intimacy which only exists between people who love each other.”
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