Ren sighed, thinking not of how dangerous Jerin might be, but of how her mothers would react to such news. “Does anyone else know he was armed?”
“Barnes.”
Which meant her mothers knew. She cursed softly. “Have any of my mothers met the Whistlers yet, or will dinner be their first exposure to them?”
“Queen Mother Elder gave them a private audience. She wanted to appraise their social skills-to see if tutors would need to be hired prior to them meeting polite society. I’m told it went well. Your sisters-in-law dine with the family tonight, as will the Whistlers.”
Out with the old and in with the new.
Ren pulled on fresh boots as she considered how to put a positive face on the situation. Nothing came to mind until she went to comb her hair in the mirror. “Raven, drop a tale into Barnes’s ear. Tell her about finding Egan Wainwright raped and killed. Stress the fact that the Whistlers witnessed it all, knowing that Jerin had been alone less than a mile from these rapist killers.”
“And you’ll tell the same to your mothers?”
“Not at dinner, but as soon as I can.”
The dinner gong sounded, muffled by the floors between it and them. Ren shrugged into her dinner coat, realizing belatedly she had spent the entire briefing on Jerin without a word said about the cannons.
“Did you learn anything about the thieves?” Ren asked as Raven followed her out into the hall.
“Not yet, but Jerin gave me an interesting idea. So far the thieves have killed everyone that might be witness to them, including that cruelty to Egan Wainwright. I have my staff checking to see if any ship on our list recently had part or all of its crew killed off. I should have a report by tomorrow.”
“Jerin?”
“He’s a man of surprising intelligence.”
A Barnes sister directed Ren to the blue salon, where she found her in-laws, the ladies of Avonar, and her mothers gathered. Her youngest sisters still hadn’t graduated to formal dining parties. Odelia was late, as usual. Trini was absent and sent a sketchy apology, complaining of a migraine; truth was, she refused to deal with their in-laws. Lylia, Ren was informed, had gone to escort their cousins, the Moorlands, upriver. The Whistlers were the only ones unaccounted for.
Ren poured herself a brandy and then sought Barnes out.
“The tailors only finished altering the premade clothes a short while ago,” Barnes said in reply to her questioning. “A youngest sister will be guiding them down as soon as they are dressed.”
As Barnes bowed off, Kij Porter drifted to Ren’s side. “Did I hear Barnes mention newly arrived palace houseguests? Who rates that special honor? Your cousins?”
Ren covered her wince by taking a sip of her brandy; the Porters were not the ones she would have chosen as first contact for Jerin’s family. As close a friend as Kij was, “pompous ass” still defined the Porter family as a whole. Families of old blood tended to be that way, due, perhaps, to inbreeding. She suspected that the Porters were among the worst because, along with their name, thev retained the taint of common blood. “The Whis-tiers. They’re the ones that saved Odelia from drowning upland. My mothers are sponsoring their brother this season.”
Kij made the polite noise of understanding. “A charity case?”
I’m going to marry him. Ren restrained the impulse to say it aloud: she didn’t want Jerin hurt if she couldn’t clear all the hurdles between them. She nodded slightly, giving a tight smile over the rim of her glass.
“How very kind of your-” Kij paused, her eyes focusing over Ren’s shoulder. “Well, I see that the task will not be an odious one.”
Jerin! Ren turned, locking down on a smile that wanted to blaze across her face. At the sight of him, only that control kept her jaw from clicking open. They had swathed him in layers of silk: a short-sleeved under-tunic of deep blue that showed off his tanned, muscular forearms; fashionably snug britches of the same shade; and a richly embroidered waistcoat that came to mid-thigh to make the britches more modest, and yet accentuated his wide shoulders. His silken raven hair was gathered into graceful falls and small loose braids woven through with ribbons.
His sisters wore deep blue, high-collared silk shirts, and black silk dining jackets and slacks. Clean, carefully groomed, and formally dressed, the women were nearly as striking as Jerin. Eldest Whistler led, Jerin on her arm, the younger sisters trailing behind in flanking positions. The Whistler family entered the room with the feral grace of hunting wolves.
“They don’t look like farmers to me,” Kij murmured as Eldest correctly approached Queen Mother Elder first to pay respects.
“Their grandmothers were knights,” Ren told her simply. The less said about what else the Whistlers’ grandmothers had been, the better. “The title reverted after their deaths, of course, but the family remains gentry.”
•‘Just barely,“ Kij murmured. ”Too bad-he’s quite pretty. I’m sure someone who doesn’t mind adding a little common stock into the line will be quick to snap him up.“
Pompous ass.
Ren knew that the Whistlers had never been before royalty, and doubted that they had ever been to a formal dinner, yet she watched with awe as they greeted each of her mothers with regal calm. After bowing to Ren’s youngest mother, Milain. the Whistler party turned, and Jerin saw her for the first time.
His smile was warm, shy-and stunning as a blow from a giant mallet.
Kij drifted off, no doubt to warn her sisters that the pretty stranger wasn’t up to the Porter level of breeding. Ren crossed to the Whistlers. Her mothers, bless them all, hung back so she had their visitors to herself.
“Whistler.” She nodded to Eldest. There was a dark look that wasn’t there before. Drat, they know what I did with their little brother!
With that in mind, she cooled her greeting to Jerin to all that was proper. It was almost maddening, though, to be so close as to feel the heat of his body, be able to catch his light scent, and yet be unable to touch him.
She scrambled to find a neutral subject to talk about, finally settling on, “I hope you had a good trip.”
“Uneventful, which is always good,” Eldest said.
Queen Mother Elder called for attention. “Our esteemed daughters-in-law, ladies of Avonar, welcome again to our dinner table. May we introduce you to our guests in our home this summer, the family Whistler.”
As her Mother Elder named members of each family, Ren wondered if this was in some way a subtle cut on her mothers’ part. The Porters had been almost shameless in their pursuit of a royal marriage, making sure Keifer was always in Princess Eldest’s eye, and allowing Eldest to take discreet liberties with their brother. The Porters succeeded in their campaign, and reaped the re-wards of being in-laws to the crown, but Keifer had been a bitter disappointment. If Ren had her way, the Porters would soon lose their coveted position.
Queen Mother Elder had finished explaining the Whistlers’ tie to Prince Alannon and his royal bloodline when Odelia appeared in the doorway. She smiled brilliantly at Jerin and hurried to his side.
“Whistler.” Odelia gave a quick nod to Eldest, and then she caught Jerin’s free hand in hers. “Jerin! It’s good to see you here!”
“You look well.” Jerin reached out to brush back Odelia’s bangs, away from where she had been struck. “Hardly a scar. No one could ever tell.”
“Thanks to you.” Odelia beamed, looking more radiant than Ren had ever seen her. “Come, they’re sitting for dinner.” She swept him away without a glance at his sisters. “I’m sure no one will mind if you sit beside me.”
As Ren gazed after Odelia in stunned amazement, Corelle whispered overloud to her sister, “I don’t know, Eldest-I think we better find some mighty big sticks, and soon.”
“Yup,” Eldest Whistler murmured low enough so only Ren and her sisters could hear, and made a motion with her hand. The younger Whistlers nodded to their Eldest and hurried after Odelia and Jerin.
Corelle cut off a middle Porter sister to claim the chair beside Jerin, and Summer flanked Odelia.
Ren suspected if their guests had been anyone but the Porters, her mothers would have set the sitting arrangements back to the original plan. Since the Porters were their in-laws, however, the dinner could be considered “only family.” Whatever the reason, their mothers made no move to correct things.
Perhaps Odelia had even counted on that; Ren could never understand the inner workings of Odelia’s mind.
