Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel

by P. S. Power

  Christophe was a noble however, so he might have been having sex and had to hurry to finish up. She didn't think that was the case, but she kind of hoped so. At least one of them needed to have some experience that way, on their wedding night. She'd been told he was outside, riding though, so it was probably really that, or he would have been at some indoor location. Even if it was a lie, it always paid to be as close with your falsehoods as you could.

  So if you were fucking the maid, being in your study, while it was cleaned, wasn't a bad way of putting it. She could walk out ten minutes later and no one would think anything of it at all. As long as the room was clean at least. Well, and as long as she wasn't a screamer.

  "Gwen! I've been briefed as to your last case. The thing on the train. Are you well? I thought perhaps you would have taken to your bed, out of the stress of things." He sounded so earnest she laughed, but kept it to a soft titter, which here was just as annoying as a woman her age doing it would have been at home, but wasn't all that harsh sounding.

  "Christophe, that isn't me at all. I've been working on a project for the King, after a fashion, which means a lot of hard training. Magic stuff, using the Westmorland methods, so, not at all fun. Needed though, if I'm going to get them free." She was tired enough that the words just popped out, but Chris didn't tell her to stop being stupid or give up her ideas.

  No, he sighed.

  "I should do a course of that myself, I fear. Not for magic, since that would be a waste. I hear I could learn to resist mesmerism that way however? It's been in the papers. There are going to be votes on that coming up, and I'll need to speak with authority on the subject. No one else is willing to try it. Not that I really am either, but as the youngest man involved, it's pretty much my part to do that, isn't it? After the party however? I want to be at my best. I hear that it's rather like torture?"

  This was the great conversation that she got to have thanks to all his training? Then, she realized, they were talking about things she knew well, that he was interested, at least in theory, in trying, and that the instant she'd mentioned her not being so weak as to need bed rest after seeing a few bad things, he'd dropped it immediately. Even though it had to be going almost completely against his own social conditioning and expectations.

  So maybe it was high level training there after all.

  "That sounds like a plan. We'll need to get someone in to do that, one that isn't a Westmorland. I doubt one of them could allow themselves to cause you pain on that level. It might be hard to manage that. I'll ask around for you? I won't do it either. It takes a person a lot harder than me to hurt someone else like that and not let them go immediately. Maybe we can automate it? I'll ask. I have a trainer coming in today. It's for something else though. Um, a new kind of training that we're trying out." She realized, after having thought what she had, that Christophe might just assume she meant some kind of sex training. Except of course, he wouldn't. "We're going to be teaching a young Westmorland boy how to fight in the morning, and need to work out how to do that without much pain or too much discomfort. There will be some, but I have some ideas that should work, depending on what tools we can find for it." She smiled and then shook her head, knowing that he couldn't see her doing it.

  There was no way that he'd care about that, but he didn't talk about her work at all then, just the party, and he was pleased enough to know that the theme would be in browns, so that he didn't wear anything too dark himself.

  "I should wear something light colored too then, right? I think that's the normal thing to do here? Not so that we match, but more so we'll seem like we belong together?" She knew nothing about that, other than from observation, but it wasn't always done. She had a nice light colored dress that was probably two seasons out of date, but that would look nice enough, without being too flashy. It was one of Katherine's old things.

  Chris sounded pleased by her words at least.

  "We can do that, yes. I think it sounds just right. I hate to be a bore, but I'm afraid I have some people coming soon and need to hop off. Oh, I was wondering what you wanted done with my old secretary?"

  Gwen froze for a moment, having not really thought about that event much at all for days. Even then it had just been in passing. Was she supposed to do something about that?

  She shrugged. After all, a lot of people had tried to kill her, on occasion and she hadn't called for them all to die, even if she'd tried pretty hard to do that herself.

  "Well, not to be crude, but if she hadn't tried to kill me, I would have probably put her forward as your mistress. She's not that cute, but clearly loves you. Or at least is obsessed with you, which is the real problem. That's too crazy to have around, I'm afraid. Even if she's a good secretary. Given that, I guess you should find her a good job, somewhere out of the way? Someplace nice. Just not where she can try to kill me again. Not too easily at least. I suppose she might try again sometime."

  That was true regardless of where she was, naturally. Curses didn't need close proximity to work all the time, she bet, though the woman hadn't been all that strong. Still, a thousand curses a day might add up, after a while.

  "Oh, I know, we should try to use some of the new treatments to get her not to feel like she has been about you, or me." She sighed, but then shook her head. "Or not. That job I mentioned would be kinder."

  "I..." He actually stopped, and then made a slightly frustrated noise. "Well, here I'd been getting ready to beg you to only place her in prison, rather than killed. As for a mistress, I wasn't planning on having one. Do you think I should?"

  She nodded, into the thin air.

  "Yeah. You're rich, powerful and good-looking. You'll end up straying eventually, so planning that out just makes sense. Of course, I'm new to sex and all that, so if I like it, I could go a bit crazy that way too, so I get to have my... Is there a term for a 'boy mistress'?" At home it would have been something like gigolo, but there was a strange silence from the other side of the unit in front of her, which ended before she could say anything, with laughter.

  "I was just thinking that we could place our troubled young lady with my Uncle. He might not thank me for it. He's almost never at home however, so it might suit. There's someone we should get an invitation to the party. Duke Morten? He's still next in line to the throne, until we can marry off my cousin and he has an heir coming, so if the Marduk is going to be there, it might be the proper thing to do."

  Gwen blinked and then nodded, deciding not to keep things all that secret between them.

  "Lisa Wendell is a problem. I know that most would figure she should be given a harsh punishment for this, but really, she's probably going through enough already. I'm sort of surprised that she hasn't killed herself." Not that much, but enough. It had been her plan at one point. "I'll see if I can talk the Duke into getting her a place. We might have to pay her salary. It wouldn't be fair to burden him, and also make him pay for it."

  That got an actual, and slightly pleased laugh from Chris. "People don't just contact my Uncle. You have to go through his social secretary, and at this late of a remove, I doubt that we'll even get a message to him before the party is already months over. He goes on secret missions and won't tell anyone where. I'd suspect it was military in nature, but we aren't at war with anyone. That probably means he's spying, in his own person, to secure Ferdinand's position. Back those months ago, when the malefactors grabbed Ferdinand, I bet uncle was near death, with worry about him. I've never known anyone to fight so hard to stay out of power."

  All that was probably true, and Gwen could vouch for the part about him not wanting to be in charge first hand. He did it well, and would have made a good King. Except for the part where he didn't want the job at all. In a way, that meant he was about the best second in line for the job that could be arranged. If anyone ever harmed his nephew the King, Groundling would have them killed before they could say "coup" and then start in one anyone that knew them, just in case.

  She looked at her watch.r />
  "I actually have an appointment with him later today, so I can ask then."

  There was dead silence for a bit, and then a chuckle. "Oh, you're joking. I don't always get your sense of humor, I'm afraid. Still, it's good to know you have one. I do like a nice joke every now and again, but it's hard when there's no one else to enjoy it with."

  Gwen agreed, actually.

  "That's true. Really, I need to go and do that now. I'll have him call you, if he says yes?"

  There was more laughter and the line cut. Which was about the way they did things like that here, most of the time. Oddly, she suspected it was really the extra polite way. At first she'd thought that the nobles had all been being snooty when they did that, but now she was starting to get the idea. It wasn't that at all, it was caution. They were all extra cautious not to go around cursing people all the time.

  For once it took a ridiculously short amount of time to get in touch with the Peregrine. The airship was both there, at the local airfield, and was free for the next week, not having a job at the moment.

  That meant her spice run was very doable. She actually had to get with a half dozen people to set up the cargo, all things from the south, and then pay about the price of three nice lorries to make it all happen, but they'd have the spices in time, and could carry out a load to what in her world would have been South America. She was just kind of sad she wasn't going to get to go along. It would be interesting to see after all.

  She had work to do, with Pete, and that came first. So instead she managed to call Groundling to the device, which meant that she also got Gloria, the engineer.

  "Curley!" The woman, who seemed to be in front of Gwen, as far as the voice went, meaning she was running the other device, sounded happy to be talking to her. She also sounded a bit gruff, at the same time. You had to know her to get that wasn't a bad thing. "Are you finally signing on for a tour again? Too much longer and you're going to be all soft on us and out of shape. Used to sleeping on soft fine beds and eating rich food."

  She didn't correct the woman, but there hadn't been too much of that lately, not for her.

  "Soon. In about three weeks? I actually called to beg a favor from Groundling. Or really, Duke Morten." She didn't even know if the man had come along, having not heard him at all yet, but Gloria started talking again instantly.

  "Oh? Found out he was a nobleman and decided to take a chance with him? I'd tease you about not thinking he was good enough for you before, but you always treated him alright. Well, I can't say I blame you. At least when you come on board we won't have to worry about you acting like he's the second Captain on the damned boat. As it is I nearly had to fire him, because none of the others will hardly let him do any work now." She actually sounded concerned. "Except of course, they can't do his job and their own, so he has to. What's the plan?"

  There was a rustling from the other side and if it wasn't the Duke, then it was someone else about his size. He was still carefully not talking. Probably so that she could walk into the trap, if there was one.

  "Well, that isn't a bad idea, except that I'm already engaged again to his nephew, Christophe? So that might be a bit awkward to set up. We had a bit of trouble. Um... Chris has a secretary, named Lisa Wendell, that fell in love with him, in a less than healthy way, and who accidently sort of cursed me, out of anger." There was a big intake of breath, and Groundling finally spoke.

  His voice was fierce sounding.

  "I see, so you want me to recommend an executioner? I'll go and do it myself. Is she in Aubry? I'll have to take leave from here, but I can get there inside a week." The scary thing was that it was very clear he was serious.

  "Oh, relax. We aren't killing her. She... Well, this isn't a healthy thing, but she needs a place to get her head right, that isn't going to let her get into too much trouble, and won't force me to kill her before she can calm down enough to let things go." She nearly mentioned the part where she would have suggested that the woman be Christophe's mistress, but Gloria was too busy swearing.

  "No way. You can't let people treat you like that. A curse is a serious matter. You're nearly a noblewoman yourself, and might outrank a lot of them, given what you've done for us here. You should at least make her sit in a cell for ten years for it."

  "Or I can do something that might let her actually learn from her mistake? She's not exactly being the brightest lamp on the wall, but she doesn't need me heaping trash on her either. It was suggested to me that you might have someplace out of the way that we can keep her, Groundling? Where she'll be safe? She might be suicidal. I don't know that for certain, but I get the feeling that she's been being watched pretty closely for the last weeks, while I was off working. Poor thing. Having all this hanging over her." Gwen meant it, but got that no one else there would see it her way.

  Lisa wasn't good-looking, though to Gwen she seemed perfect, after a fashion. She was symmetrical and handsome, rather than cute or alluring, but that worked pretty well for this world. The standards of what counted as pretty weren't as high as in her own.

  Speaking over Gloria, the Duke managed to make himself be heard, through force of will and a good deal of effort on his part.

  "I think I have a place, at the Patmore house. It has a staff of about twenty, and she won't be useful there, but it will work, I think. There are enough eyes to watch her and they mainly just take care of the place anyway, which isn't that hard, since I'm never there. My old place in Worthington is gone."

  Along with his staff there too, which probably explained the dark sound to his voice, rather than the loss of some material possessions.

  "That would be great. I mentioned to Chris that I'd have you contact him, if you said yes? That way you can set things up. Try not to scare her, not too much. I can't say that I'm thrilled with having people cast death curses at me, but I can live with it."

  Groundling yelled. Sort of at her, too.

  "It was a death curse? And she's still alive? Have you sought treatment for it? I have a man I use for that, he's very good. I'll have him sent over as soon as possible. I'm so sorry Gwen. I thought it was a lesser curse. I'll see to that death."

  Gwen managed to laugh.

  "I broke it myself, that night. Beth and a relative of hers put me through the paces on that until I can pretty much beat any curse thrown at me. It was using the lower level Westmorland protocols, which suck, by the way." She blushed, knowing that the term "sucked" there meant blowjob. More than it did back home even.

  No one called her one it, or seemed scandalized. Then, Duke or not, Groundling was literally part of the loading crew of a commercial freight hauling airship. That meant he heard, and used, foul language in his normal life.

  "Anyway, that isn't important. She won't try it with anyone else, and if she does it with me again, I'm going to do some things to her that are probably against the law here." Aversion therapy, using high levels of pain, for instance.

  She'd make the girl screech in fear on seeing her, and go silent at the very mention of Gwen's name. Even if she didn't love him, she was willing to bet that Manly would help her out with that.

  "Do you have details?"

  She did, but they didn't seem to make anyone like what she was planning better.

  Still, it was something to talk about and she thought it might work. At home that kind of thing had been used in places. It worked pretty well too. Pedophiles, who were generally thought not to be correctable, managed to give it up after having a ring put around their junk, that burned them when they got wood.

  Then they were shown naked pictures of kids until they couldn't get it up anymore, being afraid of the pain, at least on a deep level.

  It was considered cruel and unusual punishment there. She was betting that they might well be able to get around that kind of rule here, if they tried hard enough. By hard, she meant calling the King up and asking him for permission.

  But she could also make it work better here, she bet. People were trained to do what they
did, for the most apart. If you wanted to get past that basic social conditioning, well, she wasn't certain it could be done without a lot of discomfort, but it would eventually work.

  She could make the woman believe whatever she wanted even. It was, she realized, about what Erin Debussey had been using on people. Hopefully though, the new program would work a lot better. She'd get to find out soon, since Manly was there already, waiting on her, even though she'd been avoiding him too. So it wasn't just poor Christophe that got treated that way. She was neglectful of nearly everyone in her life.

  Of course, fair or not, the Westmorland had deserved her hatred. He'd earned that by causing her all that pain. Not that he'd had a choice in the matter at all, or anything like that. She was willing to bet that part of his training was in resisting compassion for others, if that was outside of the protocol. He was forced to do what he did. One presumed because he was good at his job. He had whatever it took to put someone through hell, drag them back from the edge, and do it all with a smile. Or, well, not truly with a smile, but rather with a hard and slightly disinterested air about him, that was most likely built in.

  For all she knew he cried inside every time he did that to someone. It wasn't very likely, but it could happen, right?

  Chapter nineteen

  The next morning, bright and early, they started in on poor, totally unsuspecting Peter. She showed him the thirty-six basic moves she wanted him to learn, over the course of about half an hour. Then, Manly put, not one, but two little metal buttons on the boy's back. They stuck in place, just like things normally did.

  Then the man smiled a little. It had his normal slightly disinterested air to it.

  "If you make mistakes, there will be pain and discomfort. Like this." He tapped a button on a little box in his left hand.