Page 18 of The Interstellar Rake's Irresistible Kiss
To his surprise,she nodded. “I wanted his love too. But he was beloved by so many, I’m not sure he ever appreciated its singular worth.” She shrugged delicately. “And he always was even more careless with money.”
Nor sank into the seat, though he probably shouldn’t leave himself unguarded in the presence of so formidable an opponent. Although maybe the dowager wasn’t an opponent after all. He had Trixie to blamefor this confusion. “Was there something I could do for you tonight, Your Grace?” Not that he was trying to divert her.
“Since my son informs me that he put you in charge of estate security while he’s gone, I needed to see if you were perhaps one of the treasonous minions who helped free Blackworm.”
Nor flattened his hands on the heavy, fine-grained wood of the desk. It was either that or maybestrangle the old woman. “I am not.”
She waved her hand as if wafting away the fumes of a ghost-mead indulgence. That was the only reason he could imagine she would issue such an accusation. “I’ve already decided as much,” she said. “But youwerea pirate, so I had to be sure.”
“I had to find my own way since your beloved duke wouldn’t claim me,” he snarled, not caring anymore if she was a dowageror a lady or not so much older than his own mother.
Her gaze sharpened. “You chose a dishonorable path for your own reasons,” she snapped back. Then she inclined her head. “But you seem to be more responsible now.”
He could lay waste to the entire estate with his illicit weaponry. And he rather fancied the mental image at the moment. “And if they were my own reasons, they werenotBlackworm’s.”
She conceded the point with a sniff. “Your father would’ve approved of your fortitude. He was the Avatar of the God of Fortuity, after all.”
Nor tucked his chin. Trixie had said he might’ve impressed the old duke, but he pushed away the wavering sense of softening. “Little late now,” he said instead. “And anyway, the grit to survive my life and his vows to the God of Luck have nothing in common.”
“You’d be surprised how often luck and grit go together,” she murmured. “That’s why I gave you theGrandiloquence.”
“I paid for it,” he reminded her through his teeth.
“And now you owe me, owe Azthronos,” she continued blithely.
Larfing nobility. He’d bought his commission outright, which didn’t make him a lackey of the duchy. Did none of these nobles understand how payments worked? No wonderthe duchy was indebted to its beautiful ears.
While he seethed, the dowager said with stern uprightness, “While only half your blood is Thorkon, all your duty is to us now. Whatever Blackworm was doing out there in the edge of our space, you must see to it that he fails.”
Since when was he a defender of intergalactic law, much less a blood champion of Azthronos? He scowled at the dowager. “Iowe you nothing, just as the duke decided he owed me nothing.”
“And yet even once you realized he was dead, you stayed,” she noted. “You need something from Azthronos—besides theGrandiloquence—and you won’t get it if Blackworm ruins us.”
“Blackworm isn’t coming back here,” he said tightly. “He’s long gone by now.”
She gave him a meaningful look, reminding him once again that he’d returned.But he was nothing like Blackworm.
Scowling down, he disabled the program that allowed him to track his old dat-pad recordings. Now he wouldn’t be able to see Trixie, but at least he’d know where she was.
“As captain of the flagship,” he said with steady deliberation, “I’ll defend the duchy. But I’m no holy avatar and I won’t forgive your noble sins.”
She inclined her head. “A fair trade.”In a soft rustle of skirts that sounded like a hiss of mocking laughter, she sashayed out the door.
“I paid for it,” he said to the empty air.
With a shake of his head, he looked down at the dat-pad. Why had he ended that program? Now he had to go in person to make sure Trixie was all right. Well, he knew she was all right. But she needed to know it.
He checked the estate shield one last time,and then the planetary defenses, and then the system sensors. All was quiet, as if nighttime’s peace had settled across the entire quadrant. Still, his own pulse ticked higher as he paced through the halls toward the residences. Likely Trixie was asleep by now, and he had no good reason to bother her. But if she too was restless after their strange day, perhaps she’d appreciate a distraction.
Although maybe he didn’t need one, not when he seemed to be sinking ever deeper into the schemes and machinations of Azthronos.
But since he was already standing outside her door…
He pinged her dat-pad with a query. If her biomarkers were such that the pad knew she was sleeping, the message would not be delivered until she woke. He held his breath as he watched the display.
After a long momentof silence, a pang of disappointment soured in his belly. No matter. A swig of ghost-mead would wash it away.
He rocked back on his heels to depart, just as the door opened the front of him.
