CHAPTER TWENTY
She was certainly a
That was Benjamin Mayhew's first thought as Captain Harrington was ushered into the sitting room, but he changed it almost instantly. She wasn't so much 'big' as 'tall.' She towered over her Security escort, but though she was broad-shouldered for a woman, with the solid, well-muscled look of a heavy-worlder, she moved like a dancer, and there wasn't a gram of excess weight on her.
He watched Captain Fox, the head of his personal Security detachment, bristle like a terrier confronted by the tall elegance of a borzoi and felt an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh. Fox had been Mayhew's personal guardsman since boyhood, and laughing would have been an unforgivable insult to his utterly loyal henchman, but Harrington was twenty centimeters taller than he, and Fox was only too obviously irked by that.
He was also irked by the six-legged, cream-and-gray creature riding her shoulder. One didn't normally bring pets to formal state occasions, but then, the Protector had decreed that this
Unfortunately for Fox, Captain Harrington was all done deferring to Grayson's tender sensibilities. She hadn't even discussed bringing the beast along; she'd simply appeared with it on her shoulder. Mayhew had used the palace surveillance system to observe her arrival, and he hadn't quite been able to suppress a grin as she ignored Fox's pointed hints that its presence might be unwelcome. When he'd tried to persist, she'd given him the sort of look nannies reserved for rambunctious boy children not yet out of the nursery.
Fox had surrendered, but the chemistry between him and Harrington should add a certain something to the evening's atmosphere.
Mayhew rose from his armchair as Fox escorted her across the room to him. Unlike his Security team's commander, he'd spent six years at Harvard University's Bogota campus on Old Earth. That gave him a degree of experience with off-world women virtually no other Grayson could match, yet even he was struck by Captain Harrington's assurance. Her height didn't hurt any, but neither that, nor her startling, unconventional attractiveness, nor even the gliding grace with which she moved, explained it.
She paused, tall and erect in her black-and-gold uniform with the snarling, scarlet-and-gold Manticore shoulder patch, and removed her white beret. Mayhew recognized the gesture of respect, but his Security men exchanged grimaces behind her as she bared her short, curly mop of close-cropped hair. Grayson women were spared the veils of their Masadan sisters, but none of them would have dared wear trousers in public, and tradition still forbade uncovered female heads in the presence of men. Besides, no Grayson woman would ever cut her hair so short.
But Captain Harrington wasn't a Grayson woman. One look into those dark, cool almond eyes made that perfectly clear, and Mayhew extended his hand as he would have extended it to a man.
'Good evening, Captain Harrington.' He allowed himself an ironic smile. 'It was so kind of you to come.'
'Thank you, Protector Mayhew.' Her grip was firm, though he had the impression its strength was carefully restrained, and her soprano voice was surprisingly soft and sweet. It was also admirably grave, but he thought he saw a hint of a twinkle in her dark eyes. 'It was very generous of you to invite me,' she added, and he felt his lips twitch.
'Yes. Well, it seemed appropriate, under the circumstances.'
Her inclined head conceded him the match, and he gestured graciously for her to accompany him. She fell in at his side, her stride slow and unhurried to match his shorter legs, and he looked up at her.
'I thought I'd introduce you to my family before we dine, Captain,' he went on. 'My younger brother Michael is particularly interested in meeting you. He holds a bachelor's degree from Anderman University on New Berlin, but he hopes to pursue graduate work on Manticore if our negotiations prosper.'
'I certainly hope he'll be able to, Protector.' Harrington's tone acknowledged the implication that Michael, like Mayhew himself, had been exposed to independent-minded women. Of course, the Protector thought with an inner smile, that wasn't the only reason Michael wanted to meet her.
They passed down the hall to the dining room, and two of Fox's men peeled off to station themselves on either side of its door. The other four accompanied their captain and the Protector through it and moved to the corners of the large room. They were used to looking unobtrusive, and Harrington showed no particular awareness of their watchful presence. Fox gave her one last baleful look, then assumed his own position beside the Protector's chair as Mayhew's family joined him.
'Allow me to present my wives, Captain Harrington,' he said. 'This is my first wife, Katherine.'
Katherine Mayhew was a small woman, even by Grayson standards; next to Harrington she was tiny. But she combined the graciousness of a traditional Grayson wife with a first-class mind, and her deplorably nontraditional husband had actively abetted her voracious pursuit of a course of private study which would have qualified her for half a dozen degrees at any off-world university. Now she looked up at their visitor and offered her hand without hesitation.
'Madam Mayhew,' Harrington responded, shaking it gravely.
'And this is Elaine,' Mayhew went on, presenting his second wife.
Elaine Mayhew was obviously pregnant, and she shook the captain's hand more warily than Katherine, but she relaxed as Harrington smiled at her.
'Madam Mayhew,' she repeated.
'Our daughters are already in bed, I'm afraid,' Mayhew went on, 'but permit me to introduce my brother and heir, Michael, Steadholder Mayhew.'
'Captain Harrington.' Michael Mayhew was taller than his brother, though still considerably shorter than their guest. He was also twelve years younger and Navy mad, and he grinned boyishly. 'I certainly hope you'll be kind enough to let me tour your ship before you return to Manticore, Captain.'
'I'm sure something can be arranged, Lord Mayhew,' she responded, with only the faintest hint of a smile, and Mayhew shook his head as servants began to materialize out of the woodwork.
'I see you've already made at least one convert, Captain,' he said lightly, smiling at his brother, and Michael blushed.
'I'm sorry if I sounded pushy, Captain,' he began, 'but—'
'Don't apologize, Lord Mayhew,' Harrington said as she took her seat. A servant placed a tall, backless stool beside her at a gesture from the Protector, then retreated with more haste than dignity as she coaxed her treecat down onto it. 'I'd be honored to show you around her personally, if circumstances permit. I'm quite proud of her.'
'I'll bet you are!' Michael said enviously. 'I've read everything I could get my hands on about her class, but Cousin Bernie says—'
He broke off, happiness suddenly quenched, and Harrington smiled sadly at him.
'I regret that I never got to know High Admiral Yanakov very well, Lord Mayhew, but Ambassador Langtry tells me he and Admiral Courvosier had become very close. I believe Admiral Courvosier had the greatest respect for him, and I hope we'll have the chance to welcome you on board so you can judge
The Protector sat back to let the servants pour wine and nodded to himself. Harrington's voice held none of the stridency or challenge he'd been half afraid of when he first learned of her 'ultimatum.' He'd suspected—or hoped, perhaps—that the Council's fear she might truly abandon them had been exaggerated; now he was certain of it.
The servants finished placing the appetizers before each diner, and Mayhew bent his head to offer thanks ... and not for the meal, alone.
The last of Honor's inner tension faded as the supper progressed. Her host's family appeared completely relaxed, despite the guards in the corners and the sour-faced Security captain hovering at the Protector's shoulder. She knew Queen Elizabeth was guarded with equal attentiveness, though Manticore's tech base made it possible
