embarrass her with her family or to prevent blackmail, but even if she was married, for a royal a tryst with someone like that wasn't a big deal. Maybe her husband was really big and jealous or something and she wanted to ensure the peace? Could be. Who knew. Well, if he ran into Bonita again he'd ask her to go do something and see if she put him off.
If he just wasn't her type then he'd try again until he found a girl that fit.
Still the whole thing hurt a little. Not so much that she'd paid him for it, but that she didn't think enough of herself to realize she didn't have too.
After cleaning up he went to the estate for breakfast, since he'd been invited to do so for the duration of his stay. He kept expecting the doorman, the butler, to turn him away, or maybe be cold, but was met with a big smile and called sir more times in one minute than he had been in the rest of his life put together. Literally. It was almost like the man really wanted Tor to know he was respected or something.
All the meals were kind of casual and cozy here, you served yourself from a table set up in the next room, and when inside took it in to the dining room to eat. They had cooling plates inside the one room, but most people had equalizers now, so they all sat around the big highly polished dark wood table instead of off trays in the funny, hard to sit in, chairs of the cool room.
Tor found them sitting on one end of the table, which was covered with a fine lace tablecloth of cream colored material, with plates of food, mainly sliced fruit and cool bread made hours before, probably in a bakery away from the main building. Four women and one giant Count sat talking softly.
Maria and Trice were tucked around Bonita protectively, leaning in to hear her clearly, with Ellen sitting near, obviously paying attention. The Count seemed amused, but fought to keep the look off his face. It rolled off his internal field though.
“So then I left some coins on the bed stand and left. I couldn't face that morning after thing again, when they sober up and realize what I really look like, that I'm not you or Collette or even Ginger. Just ugly Bonita Turnbull. But he was worth the price and more. I should have gotten his name so I could meet him again. I could borrow some gold for it, right?” The voice was soft and plaintive, but everyone said “oohh…” in unison.
Even the Count, though he nodded to her, indicating clearly that mere coin wouldn't be an issue between them. The woman hadn't looked up to see it though. It made Tor feel a little better, knowing that Marvin would back his sister in-law like that.
Not that it was needed.
In direct light she actually looked a little cuter than she had the night before, more color and her hair wasn't messed up already. Also the light blue dress she wore worked for her complexion way better than white. She wasn't Collette or Maria, or even Trice, but anyone calling her ugly was a bastard, and more, simply wrong. If Tor had been presented with this woman on his wedding day he'd have been pleased.
He wore a deep brown silk shirt and pants that looked like leather, matching color almost perfectly, with heavy boots that had really high, but very soft, soles on them. He suddenly wondered if he should turn them into something more impressive, but knew that pretending to be something he wasn't wouldn't help anything.
Sitting down next to Trice earned a funny look from her, a worried and happy thing to start with, blurring into something like anger. Right, she hated him for her job still. Which wasn't going to work, but Tor couldn't share that with her without ruining her game.
The Count waved to him lazily but pointed towards the quiet girl and placed a single finger to him mouth covertly enough to not call attention to the move. Trice glanced up at the giant, but ignored Tor after that. It made Tor feel almost like he should grope her under the table in retaliation, but that could be noticed so he refrained.
Barely.
It would just be funny. Not able to resist long he stared at the conversation and dropped his hand to his friends leg, running his fingers along the inside of her thigh ever so gently, but just once, then, as if it never happened, even though she jumped and looked at him, took his hand back before she could make a scene about it.
That got a baffled look from Trice, which Tor found unduly rewarding for some reason.
The conversation got complicated, because Maria kept asking “and then what” about her sisters evening and Bonita was going into detail. Embarrassing and graphic detail, but it sounded good when she said it. Almost as if his efforts in love making were artistic rather than just paltry fumblings. About halfway through Trice glanced at him and smirked, expecting him to have turned a bright scarlet, most likely.
Tilting his head he grinned at her and winked, which truly confused her. That was plain on her face, as well as washing off of her field. Maria seemed excited enough about the events though and promised to help her locate the man, whoever he was. Even if they had to line up all the brothel men in the city. Bonita kept her head down and just didn't look over at all. Not even at Patricia or up at the Count.
Finally Maria made eye contact and smiled prettily at him, as if she hadn't noticed him before. Possible, she'd been busy after all, family first, and Bonita was sweet and kind, and had an adventure to share, so was worth paying attention to. He really needed to find out if she was married so he wasn't accidentally indiscreet. The Countess nodded a few times, seeing where his gaze went.
“Oh! We've all been so busy I haven't introduced you two at all have I? Bonita, this man is Master Builder Torrence Baker, Countier four Lairdgren. Well, you know, Tor. Tor, this is my oldest sister Bonita Coltress, half sister-really, but she's closer to me than my full sister. She's Baronetta first. Hmmm. Are you engaged right now? That’s within three steps. Nita's not married yet and she really should be soon.” The tone was playful, but not said without a bit of serious intent.
Without looking up a soft moan came from behind hands laying flat over her face.
“Maria! God, I'm so embarrassed… stupid Bonita Turnbull…” She didn't hit her head with a rock, but Tor could sympathize with the feeling.
He spoke, trying to make his voice warm and happy sounding. It wasn't hard. He really liked Bonita.
“Currently not engaged to be married, but supposedly I have a date tonight, with a Baronetta even. If that doesn't fall through or something. Things are looking up, definitely, you know? I was just coming to check and see if Bonita had a jealous husband or boyfriend I needed to watch out for, the way she stole away like that… And seriously, two and a half gold? No one's worth that for a single night. I'm keeping it though, we can use it for our date.” His voice came out wry and pleasant sounding at least.
His voice got her to look up. Finally. He'd thought she might bolt, Terlee used to do that when scared or pushed too far socially. That or hide and mumble at him, instead she smiled, and jumping behind Trice, tried to pull him into a hug, then a kiss, but he had his shield on, which he turned off for her.
It was warm and done well enough to feel nice, what more did he want?
Trice got up and stormed out.
Angrily. A small flash of real angst coming from her as she did. And a whole lot more confusion.
Tor ignored her and kissed Bonita back.
Chapter thirteen
The next few days were some of the most wonderful Tor had ever experienced. Nita, as he'd taken to calling her, met with him each evening and they did things. Fun things. Like flying along the coast and having a picnic on a beach, the wind whipping past them and blowing sand everywhere. Or walking through the market place in the city, where smiling people kept offering them free things for some reason. The late nights were fun too. Each morning after the first, he woke to find Bonita's arm over him protectively, as if he were going to suddenly disappear on her if she wasn't careful.
It was different during the day, they ate with the Wards most of the time and Trice kept giving him looks that indicated his death might just be imminent, but it seemed a little over the top to him. Even if she was really angry at him for “spurning her affections”, which was kind of what she hinted to everyone that would listen, she wouldn't have acted like that.
She might have punched him when he wasn't looking, but she wouldn't… sulk. Not like she pretended to. Worse, she insisted on following him and Smythe around like a puppy, making sure she was at each questioning and
