Cold Magics (47 page)

“Wasn’t that fun?” said Henry, gliding up to their table. “My father is in an absolutely foul mood now and will no doubt be calling us all in to meet with him first thing in the morning to discuss the good father’s proposal.”

“What will his answer be?” asked Thomas.

“Don’t know yet. But he might tell them they will have no authority to run inquisitions until the troops actually arrive.”

“‘Might’ isn’t comforting.”

“It’s all we have.”

Thomas said nothing more.

Henry turned to sweep his gaze across the room.

“I see Baron Goshawk got the first dance with Eileen.”

“Seems fair,” said Thomas. “He escorted her here.” Eileen’s back was stiff as she danced and her expression was thunderous, leaving no question as to her mood.

“And why,” asked Henry, “did he escort her here?”

“Because I was seeing to my troops,” said Thomas.

Henry stared at him. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You’re a fool,” Henry opined. “It will take months before she forgives you.”

“I know.” There was an angry edge to Thomas’s voice. He smothered it. “Your young lords are just waiting to start a fight, Lord Henry. According to Amelia, they’ll be challenging me to a duel.”

“I know,” said Henry. “And there’s nothing I can do about that until someone actually starts something, at which point I can throw them out. And that includes you or George, understand?”

“Us?” Thomas protested. “We weren’t the ones throwing insults around—”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Henry. “Whoever throws a punch or draws a blade gets thrown out and faces my father’s wrath. And now is not the time for you to be going against my father.”

“No,” said Thomas, trying hard not to grit his teeth. “No. Of course it isn’t.”

The dancers whirled about the floor. Thomas saw several of the young lords pass close to the baron and Eileen, though he couldn’t hear what words were being said. Eileen was looking more and more angry, and the baron wasn’t looking too happy, himself. Thomas felt useless and impotent where he stood, and wished he could be on the dance floor.

Baron Goshawk stopped dancing in the middle of the tune and grabbed one young lord’s arm, pulling him away from his dance partner. Thomas couldn’t make out the words, but the young lord—Winston, Thomas believed—looked to be protesting mightily. The baron pushed him away, then held out his hands to Eileen again. Eileen said something to him—rather sharply from her expression—but took his hands again and resumed the dance.

Thomas looked for George, spotting him and Cecily on the other side of the floor. George’s expression was becoming less pleasant by the moment, but he kept dancing. Cecily was whispering something to him and he was shaking his head, his eyes never leaving his sister. Cecily looked quite put out about it, but stayed in his arms, moving through the dance.

“I must go,” said Henry. “There are many I should be talking to.” Thomas nodded, but didn’t take his eyes from the dance floor. “Stay out of trouble,” Henry warned.

On the floor, Eileen was having sharp words with the baron, the young lords were moving in and out, speaking to them. George was working his way closer to his sister.

The music came to an end and Thomas started for the floor. Amelia caught his arm. “Thomas! You must dance with me! Come.”

“I was planning—”

“To dance with Eileen, I know, but she is fully occupied with her baron. Now come, another song will be starting soon.”

On the floor, Thomas could see that Eileen was indeed fully occupied with Baron Goshawk. Her hand was gripping tightly on his sleeve and from the speed her mouth was moving, she was giving him an earful. Thomas was wondering at that even as the young lords gathered around her and the baron. More words were exchanged, but there was no sign of violence. The music struck up again, and Eileen grabbed the baron’s hands and brought him into position for another dance. The man looked to be wincing.

“I must say the black does look very pretty on you,” said Amelia. “Even if it does make you look even paler than you are.” Amelia followed his gaze to Baron Goshawk and Eileen. “The red on the baron suits him very well, too, don’t you think?”

“Extremely.”

“Thomas!” Amelia chided, swatting his arm, “When a lady talks of clothes you are supposed to compliment her on her own.”

“I am sorry,” said Thomas. He looked her up and down. Whatever else could be said of the girl, she knew how to dress. “You chose very well,” said Thomas. “You look quite beautiful.”

Amelia smiled. “As beautiful as Eileen, do you think?”

Thomas shook his head. “Why are you flirting with me, Amelia?”

“What else is there to do?” she asked. “The nobility doesn’t appreciate a common girl like me or a common boy like you. They just use us for their purposes and set us aside. Why, Eileen there has been in the baron’s company every day but one this last— Oh, here comes Lord Winston.”

Lord Winston was dancing on the arm of a merchant’s daughter Thomas had seen at the baron’s party.

“Captain Thomas,” he said, guiding his partner alongside them. “I am surprised to find you still here.”

“Don’t be silly, Lord Winston,” said Amelia. “He cannot leave before the dancing is over.”

“True,” agreed Winston. “I just thought it must be difficult, seeing the girl you love in the arms of another.” When Thomas didn’t say anything, he added, “But then, from what Lord Steven has said, I suppose you would be used to that.”

It took all of Thomas’s self control to keep his mouth. Other lords were moving closer now, angling their partners to bring them to where Thomas and Amelia were dancing. On the other side of the floor, Thomas could see Baron Goshawk holding firmly onto Eileen’s hands, keeping her back. He couldn’t hear what Eileen was saying, but judging by her expression the words were none too pleasant. He cast his eyes around and found George off the floor, talking to Sir Patrick and Sir Rowland.

“It is funny,
Captain
,” said Lord Winston as the other young lords closed in. “If someone had said that about my woman, I would surely want to do something about it. I would surely have strong words for that person.”

T
homas stopped dancing. “Really? I would have thought you’d have run off to your friends to whine about it, and concoct some scheme to ensure that someone better with a blade would do your fighting for you.”

“Now, Thomas—” Amelia began, but Lord Winston cut her off.

“Unlike you, I do not hide behind the skirts of my girl, or under the cloak of my betters, when strong words are said about those I hold dear.”

Thomas looked around him. The lords had formed a circle, their dance partners pushed away behind them and watching over their shoulders with expressions ranging from anxious to excited. Lord Cormac was grinning, and Lord Steven was standing, arms folded, directly behind Winston. Thomas did a slow circle, taking in all their faces until he was facing Winston again. “Really? Doesn’t look like it.”

“These are my friends,” said Winston. “I don’t see yours anywhere.”

“A moment,” said Thomas, turning his back on the man and taking Amelia’s hand. “I thank you for the dance, Amelia.” He kissed her hand and let it go. “Best to step away now.”

“But the dance isn’t over—”

“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Winston. “Get out.”

“Lord Winston! I’ll thank you to—”

“Amelia!” It was Lord William, standing outside the circle, Thomas noticed. “Please. Come here.”

“Go, Amelia,” said Thomas, softly. “I’ll be fine.”

Amelia bit her lip and walked slowly from the circle. Two lords stepped aside to let her pass and then closed the gap as soon as she was through. She could go no further, though. The crowd around them was growing and pressing in on all sides. The musicians kept playing, but no one was listening anymore. Within Thomas’s view he could see Lord John standing next to Father Roberts, both of them watching with interest. A little way from the circle, Goshawk was still holding Eileen in place and speaking urgently into her ear. She was pulling at his arms, but he wasn’t moving. Thomas wondered how long it would be before she kicked him in the shins. It nearly made him smile in spite of himself. “Now,” said Thomas. “Where were we?”

“We were saying you were a coward who hides behind his betters.”

“Ah. Why?”

“Why are you a coward?” sneered William.

“Why call me one?” Thomas asked, raising his voice so it carried through the hall. “From almost the day we arrived, you and yours have been hostile. Why?”

When no answer came immediately, Thomas continued. “I can almost understand your attentions to Eileen. She’s very pretty. Better men would have sought to know her and gain her friendship. Instead, you and yours tormented her and pursued her, as dogs would a cat that they found trapped in the yard where their master kept them chained.”

Steven stepped forward. “You call us dogs, Captain?”

“I do.” Thomas raised his voice. “The duke called an end to the toasts before I could properly respond to yours, so let me do so now, since all seem to be listening.” He took a deep breath. “I was invited here, by Lord Henry, to assist as best I could against the raiders. Through no fault of their own, my friends were forced to come with me. And so we came, and the duke treated us graciously and with kindness.

“You boy-lords, on the other hand, have not. You have hounded Miss Eileen, you have ridiculed Sir George, and you have insulted and threatened me. Despite knowing we had come to offer our help, despite knowing we were friends of Henry and despite knowing we were guests of the duke. I am unsurprised you lacked the intelligence to behave towards us as your duke did, but had expected you to have enough training to ape the behaviour of your betters. Instead, you acted with no regard for the young lady’s feelings, no regard for the opinions of your duke, and no regard for the safety of your duchy.”

He looked around the circle, seeing anger and excitement there. “You are spoiled children, cowards, and fools of the lowest order. Your behaviour makes you as unfit to be at this banquet as a mongrel dog which has crept in to lick the scraps from the floor under the boots of its master.”

Steven opened his mouth, and Thomas overrode him, his voice carrying clearly through the entire hall. “I am the best of the Academy’s swordsmen. I have been blooded in battle and have ended a dozen men’s lives with my blade. And I will be in the practice hall tomorrow morning to face any who wish to challenge what I have said here tonight. My chosen weapons are rapier and dagger.” He turned back to Steven. “Now if you are quite finished, I would like to dance with my lady.”

“Hardly your lady,” said Lord Cormac, “She seems to far prefer Baron Goshawk’s company to yours.”

Before Thomas could make reply to that, two of the lords were shoved hard out of the way from behind and Eileen strode across the circle to Thomas. She was practically panting with exertion and her wrists were red from her struggle with Baron Goshawk. Behind her, Thomas could see the baron limping after her as best he could.
I knew she’d kick him.

Thomas bowed low and, on rising, held out his hand. “My lady, would you do me the honour of this dance?”

Eileen curtsied low and with much more grace than she’d had a week previous, took his hand, took one step closer and wrapped her arms around Thomas, putting her mouth on his and kissing him hard enough that he practically lost his breath and balance simultaneously. He managed to catch his footing and get his arms around Eileen. He spent the next little while returning her kiss as thoroughly as possible, ignoring the wolf whistles and cheers. At last, Eileen leaned back a bit, breathed deeply, and let him go.

Music had begun playing again at some point during their kiss—a lively, joyous piece. Thomas spotted Lord William leading Amelia in the first steps of the dance. Other lords had quit the circle and found new partners, but Steven and Cormac still stood before them.

“In the morning,” said Steven, when Thomas turned to face him.

“In the morning,” agreed Thomas. “Now, if you will excuse me.” He took Eileen in his arm and whirled her across the dance floor. She said nothing, but followed him through the steps of the dance, her red hair and red-orange dress making her look like flame circling a pillar of darkness as she danced and spun around Thomas.

George danced by with Cecily on his arm, and Henry passed with Miss Rose. The knights of the White Wolf were on the floor as well, and Amelia and William. Thomas realized that he was once more surrounded, only this time by friends instead of enemies—friends and Amelia, and Thomas wasn’t sure which side she was on at all, now. For the first time that evening he felt relaxed and, as he lifted Eileen for the final spin of the dance, then set her gently to her feet, Thomas almost felt happy. He bowed low again and, still holding Eileen’s hand, walked her to edge of the floor where Baron Goshawk sat rubbing his shin and looking rueful. In a moment, Henry, George, and the others joined them.

“That was impressive,” said Henry.

“I thought so, too,” said Thomas.

“I meant the kiss, not the challenge.”

“Me, too,” said Thomas, smiling at Eileen even as the reality of the challenge sunk in. “And now, given what I’m going to be doing in the morning, I think I would like to excuse myself from the rest of the evening. And Eileen, if she will deign to go with me.”

“Of course,” said Henry. “In fact, I’ll accompany you.” He snagged a pair of full bottles of wine from one table. “George, would you and your lady like to accompany us?”

“Aye,” said George, but Cecily shook her head.

“My parents would not allow it,” she said.

“Nonsense,” said Henry. “Consider it a command. And George, get a couple more bottles,” said Henry.

“If it’s going to be a party,” said Eileen, “then perhaps Baron Goshawk could join us?”

“I would only be in the way, I think,” said the baron.

“I would consider it a great favour,” said Eileen, and something in her tone made Thomas suddenly alert and nervous. Whatever had been said between Eileen and the baron, Eileen wasn’t done with it yet.