War Of Honor

been no physical violation of Hamish's marriage to Emily, she knew both of them had wanted there to be one. Neither would ever have admitted it to the other, but now they would stand accused of the very thing both had been determined would never happen, and any effort to refute the allegations would only make it worse.

It was absurd, a tiny corner of her brain told her. Every right of privacy should have protected her and Hamish, even if they had been lovers. And it didn't matter. Even here in the Star Kingdom, no more damaging scandal could have been devised, not given the iconic stature of Lady Emily and her husband, because William was right. The very people most likely to share Honor's personal values and support her political views would be the ones most revolted by her 'betrayal' of such a beloved public figure, and what made it damaging in Manticore would make it devastating on Grayson.

The fact that their personal lives had nothing to do with their accomplishments or judgement as naval officers would mean nothing. The idea that their feelings for one another did somehow prejudice their thinking would be suggested, however indirectly, by someone. She knew it would. And ridiculous as the charge would be, it would stick. But that wasn't the real purpose of the attack. The real purpose was to divert the debate from a discussion of the dangers of Janacek's proposals to the personal character of the man and woman who had become his most effective naval critics. The Government wouldn't have to refute their arguments this time. Not if it could force them to expend all of their energy and moral capital defending themselves against such sensational charges.

And if High Ridge and his cronies could discredit them on this issue, they could be discredited on any issue. . . .

'Who passed the rumors to Hayes?' she asked, and the levelness of her voice astonished her.

'Does it matter?' William replied.

'Yes,' she said, and her voice was no longer merely level and the soft, sibilant snarl of Nimitz's fury sounded behind it. 'It does.'

William looked at her in alarm, and what he saw in her chocolate-dark eyes turned alarm to fear.

'I don't know for certain,' he told her after a moment. 'And if I did, I don't think I'd tell you.'

'I can find out for myself.' Her tone was a soprano dagger, and she felt an icy purpose sweep through her. 'I found out who bought Paul Tankersley's murder,' she told the brother of the man she loved. 'And I can find the scum responsible for this.'

'No, you can't,' William said urgently, then shook his head sharply. 'I mean, of course you can, but what good would it do?' He stared at her in raw appeal. 'Your duel with Young almost destroyed you, Honor! If you found out who was behind this, and you challenged him, it would be ten times worse—far more destructive than the rumors themselves! You'd be finished as a political figure here in the Star Kingdom, whatever happened. And that doesn't even consider the question of how many people would believe the stories had to be true for you to take such action.'

'He's right.' Hamish Alexander's voice was grating iron, and she turned to look at him at last. He made himself meet her eyes levelly, and she realized that for the first time he knew. He knew what a part of him must have suspected with growing strength for years now—that she'd always known what he felt for her, and that she'd felt the same thing.

'He's right,' White Haven repeated. 'Neither one of us can afford to give the story that much credibility. Especially,' he turned to glare at his brother, 'when there isn't a shred of truth in it.'

William returned his ferocious glare levelly, as aware as Honor that most of that fury was directed somewhere else.

'I believe you,' he said with quiet sincerity. 'But the problem is proving it.'

'Proving it!' White Haven snarled.

'I know. I know!' William shook his head again, his expression almost as angry as his brother's. 'You shouldn't have to prove a damned thing, either of you! But you know as well as I do that that isn't how it works against character assassination like this, and there isn't any way to prove a negative. Particularly not when the two of you have worked so closely together. We—all of us—have overspent the political capital your accomplishments have generated. We've deliberately thrown you together, focused the public's perception on the two of you as a team. That's the way the voters think of you now, and that's actually going to make it easier for them to believe this crap. Especially when someone starts talking about how much time you've spent alone with each other.'

'Alone?' Both Alexanders turned back to Honor at her one-word question. 'I'm a steadholder, Willie. I never go anywhere without my armsmen—I can't, under Grayson law! When have the two of us ever really had a chance to be 'alone' together?'

'You know better than that, Honor,' William said almost compassionately. 'First, no one would believe you couldn't have slipped away, even from Andrew, if you truly wanted to. And they wouldn't believe it because you know as well as I do that they'd be right; you could have. And second, even if that weren't true, do you think anyone would doubt for a moment that every one of your armsmen would lie the Devil out of Hell if you asked him to?'

It was her turn to glare back at him, but then she felt her shoulders sag, because he was right. Of course he was, and she'd known it before she even opened her mouth. It was only a drowning woman searching frantically for any straw to grasp.

'So what do we do now?' she asked bitterly. 'Can they really get away with reducing the fight for political control of the entire Star Kingdom to something as petty and poisonous as an invented rumor of infidelity?'

'No,' William replied. 'They can't reduce the entire fight to something like that, Honor. But that isn't really what you were asking, and the truth is that you and Hamish have been two of our most potent weapons . . . and they can destroy our ability to use either of you against them effectively. It's stupid and vicious and small minded, but that doesn't mean it won't work. At the very least, it's almost certain to cripple you two while they drive through the naval cuts and the budget, but I'm sure they're hoping for a much longer-term effect, as well. And the beauty of it, from their perspective, is that the more vehemently you or any of your friends and allies deny it, the more surely a certain percentage of the electorate will believe it must be true.'

Honor stared at him, then looked back at Hamish and saw the matching anguish in his eyes. His emotions were too painful for her to endure, and so she closed her empathic sense down until she felt only Nimitz, only his love and concern . . . and his helpless inability to fight this foe for her. She pulled her eyes away from Hamish, returning them to William, and fought to keep her shoulders from sagging still further.

'So what do we do?' she asked him softly.

'I don't know, Honor,' he told her. 'I just don't know.'

Chapter Seven

'What do you think they're really up to, Guns?'

'Sir?' Lieutenant Commander Anna Zahn, Sidemore Navy, HMS LaFroye's tactical officer, looked up from her plot in some surprise. Captain Ackenheil wasn't much addicted to formalities, including the punctilious announcement of his presence whenever he arrived on the bridge, and she hadn't realized he was there.

'I asked what you think they're really up to,' the Manticoran said, and gestured at her display. It was set to astrography mode and interstellar scale at the moment, and over a dozen stars were tagged with red, flashing icons.

'I don't really know, Sir,' Zahn replied after a moment. She was one of the relatively few Sidemore officers serving aboard Royal Navy ships in senior positions. It wasn't because of any prejudice against Sidemorians, so much as it was the fact that there weren't all that many senior Sidemore officers serving anywhere. The entire Sidemore Navy was barely eight T-years old, which meant that Zahn was incredibly junior for her rank by Manticoran standards. She also happened to be extremely good at her job, which was how she'd come to be assigned as the tactical officer aboard the senior ship of CruDiv 237. Intellectually, she knew she wouldn't have been here if the Manties didn't believe she would be able to pull her own weight. It had been Manticoran policy since the beginning of Sidemore's alliance with the Star Kingdom to cross- assign officers whenever possible as one way to be sure both navies were familiar with RMN doctrine and