with the inner vitality of the woman trapped within it.
'I know,' she said softly, and Emily reached up to lay her working hand briefly atop Honor's.
'Yes, I imagine you do,' she said more briskly, still smiling. 'And Hamish will be here shortly, as well. He screened to say he's been delayed by some Admiralty House business. Nothing critical, just details that have to be dealt with. And, yes, Nimitz,' she said, looking directly at the 'cat on Honor's shoulder, 'Samantha is just fine. I'm sure she'll be just as eager to see you as you are to see her when she and Hamish get here.'
Nimitz rose higher, true-hands flashing, and Emily chuckled as she read the signs.
'Yes, I think you could say she's missed you as much as she would have missed celery. Possibly even a little more than that.'
Nimitz bleeked with laughter, and Honor shook her head.
'You two are bad influences on each other,' she observed severely.
'Nonsense. Both of us were completely beyond salvage before we ever met, Honor,' Emily replied serenely.
'I'm sure.' Honor glanced over her shoulder at LaFollet, and the colonel smiled faintly.
'If you'll pardon me for a moment, My Lady,' he said, 'I need to speak to the limo driver before he parks the car. With your permission?'
'Of course, Andrew,' she said and watched fondly as he stepped back outside.
'Ah, I think I might just go and check with Tabitha about the supper menu, Milady,' Thurston said to Emily. 'You'll keep an eye on her till I get back, Your Grace?' she added innocently to Honor.
'Of course I will,' Honor said gravely, and Thurston smiled and disappeared, leaving her alone with Emily and Nimitz.
'My goodness,' Emily murmured as the door closed behind her. 'She did that very neatly. And I didn't think anything could overcome that professional paranoia of his! For all he knows, assassins are lurking in the great hall right this moment.'
'Andrew does more than simply protect me physically, Emily,' Honor said. 'He also does his best to let me cling to at least the illusion of a little bit of privacy.' Her smile was more crooked than the one the artificial nerves in the left side of her face normally produced. 'Of course, we both know it's only an illusion, but that doesn't make it any less important to me.'
'No, I don't suppose it does,' Emily said gently. 'We Manticoran aristocrats think we live in fishbowls, but compared to you Grayson steadholders-' She shook her head. 'I suppose it really is necessary, in your case, at least, given how many people seem to have tried to kill you over the years. But I often wonder how you can stand it without going mad.'
'There are times I wonder, too,' Honor admitted. 'Mostly, though, it's my armsmen themselves who keep me sane. Graysons have had a thousand years to adjust to the peculiarities of their own traditions, and it's amazing how 'invisible' an armsman can make himself. But it's more than that, too. They just... become a part of you. I suppose it's like your relationship with Nico or Sandra, or mine with Mac, but with an added dimension. They know everything about me, Emily, and every single one of them will go to his grave without ever betraying a confidence of mine. That's what Grayson armsmen do.'
'Then I suppose I envy you as much as I pity you,' Emily said.
'You might want to keep some of that sympathy for yourself,' Honor said. Emily arched an eyebrow, and Honor gave her another off-center smile. 'If things go on as they have, you and Hamish are going to find my armsmen interfering in your lives almost as much as they do in the lives of my mother and father. Andrew will be as discreet about it as he possibly can, but it will happen.'
Emily gazed at her for several seconds, then sighed.
'Yes,' she said finally. 'I can see that. In fact, I realized it while you were still in Sidemore. But I think I'm discovering that adjusting to the reality is a little more... complicated than I'd anticipated.'
'I don't doubt it, and I'm sorry,' Honor said softly. 'You don't deserve all the complications I've inflicted on your life.'
'Nonsense!' Emily shook her head firmly. 'Just desserts don't come into it. Or, as Hamish has always been fond of saying-when he thinks I don't hear him, of course-shit happens.'
Honor's mouth twitched, and Emily smiled at her as she smothered a giggle.
'You didn't plan any of this, Honor,' Emily continued, 'any more than Hamish did. In fact, if memory serves, the two of you were busy making everyone-Nimitz, Samantha, and myself included-thoroughly miserable because of your absolute determination not to 'inflict' any complications on my life. I may not like having to deal with all of them, but I don't regret any of them. You know that.'
She looked Honor straight in the eye, and Honor nodded slowly. Emily was one of the small number of people who knew her empathic link with Nimitz was so deep, so intense, that she'd actually developed something very like the treecats' ability to sense the emotions of those about her. Which meant she did know Emily was being completely honest with her.
'Then Hamish and I are remarkably lucky people,' she said. Emily made a small throwing away gesture with her mobile hand, and Honor inhaled a deep breath. 'However, the question I'm sure Andrew stepped outside so I could ask you was whether it was genuine Admiralty business that detained Hamish, or simply good strategy on a more personal level.'
'Both, I think,' Emily said, green eyes twinkling. 'Admiralty House has been keeping him late quite a bit these past few months,' she went on more soberly, 'and I don't doubt for a moment that he really is busy trying to club the latest batch of pseudogators to crawl out of the swamp. But it's also true we both thought it might be a bit more... politic if he stayed busy with routine matters while I got my friend Honor settled in here at White Haven instead of rushing home to greet you himself. Not,' she added dryly, 'that I don't expect his 'greeting' to be about as enthusiastic as you're likely to survive when he does get here.'
Honor felt herself actually blushing, and Emily laughed delightedly.
'Oh, Honor! You really are so, so... so Sphinxian!'
'I can't help it,' Honor protested. 'I mean, Mother's from Beowulf, so I suppose I ought to be more, well, liberated, or whatever, but I'm not, all right?' She gave the older woman's shoulder a gently cautious shake. 'You and Hamish may be from decadent old Manticore, but you're right, I am from Sphinx. And, just to make things worse, for the last eighteen T-years I've been from Grayson, too. Can you think of a planet less well suited to developing a sophisticated attitude about this sort of thing?'
'Actually, I'd think the Grayson element might help, really,' Emily said, only half-humorously. 'I mean, they do have that tradition of multiple wives.'
'That's multiple wives, Emily,' Honor said dryly. 'They're not so big on unmarried lovers. Especially when one of the lovers in question is married to someone else.'
'I wonder if they might be just a bit more understanding than you think they would.' Emily shook her head quickly, and continued before Honor could open her mouth. 'I'm not suggesting you run home to find out, Honor! You're a steadholder. I understand that, and I understand you're not free to run the risks as Steadholder Harrington that you might run as simply Honor Harrington, just as you and Hamish can't openly display your feelings here in the Star Kingdom after the way those bastards tried to smear both of you last year. But I really do think you're both still being harder on yourselves for feelings neither of you sought than most other people would be.'
'You're a remarkable woman, Emily Alexander,' Honor said after a moment. 'I see exactly why Hamish loves you as much as he does.' She touched the older woman's cheek gently. 'And I don't deserve to have you understand so deeply.'
'You're not a very good judge of what you deserve, Honor,' Emily said. 'But,' she went on more briskly, 'before we get too maudlin, why don't we take ourselves off to the conservatory?' She grinned mischievously. 'If we hurry, we can disappear before Colonel LaFollet comes back inside and see how long it takes him to find you again. Won't that be fun?'
Chapter Five
'Mr. Secretary, Colonel Nesbitt is here for his three o'clock.'
'Hm?' Secretary of State Arnold Giancola looked up from the correspondence on his display with a bemused expression. He gazed at his administrative assistant for a second or two, then blinked. 'I'm sorry, Alicia. What did
