almost ominous, yet that only made the terrace's warm comfort even more welcoming.
They were alone, aside from Nimitz, LaFollet, and Benjamin's personal armsman and constant shadow, Major 'Sparky' Rice, and the Protector chuckled at her comment as he reached for his wineglass.
'I'm glad you enjoyed it,' he assured her. 'My chef stole the stroganoff recipe from your father, and the fudge cake—of which, if memory serves, you had three slices—came directly from Mistress Thorne's recipe book.'
'I thought they both tasted familiar. But Master Batson's added a little something to the stroganoff, hasn't he?'
'I'd be surprised if he hasn't,' Benjamin agreed. 'As to what it might have been, though—' He shrugged.
'Dill weed, I think,' Honor said thoughtfully. 'But there's something else, too . . .' She gazed thoughtfully up into the rainstorm, pondering, then shrugged. 'Whatever it is, warn him that Daddy's going to be trying to steal it back from him.'
'From something your mother said a couple of weeks ago, I think he already has,' Benjamin said with a grin. 'And I think Master Batson can't quite make up his mind whether to be outraged by the fact that a steadholder's father is raiding his recipe files, even in retaliation, or flattered by the competition!'
'Oh, flattered. He should definitely feel flattered!' Honor assured the Protector.
'I'll tell him that,' Benjamin replied, then sipped his wine and cocked his head to one side. 'And how are your parents? And my god children?' he asked.
'Fine, thank God,' Honor said, then shook her head with a wry chuckle. 'Mother and Daddy both wanted to strangle about a third of the population of the planet of Manticore—starting with the Prime Minister. And Howard —!' She shook her head again. 'Your god children were just fine, too. And noisy.' Her twin siblings had just celebrated their sixth birthdays, and she'd been appalled by the sheer energy level they'd demonstrated. Especially Faith, although James hadn't been far behind her. And neither of them had been able to compete with Samantha's and Nimitz's kittens, now rapidly approaching adolescence and even more rambunctious than the twins. And, she thought with a mental shudder, far better, at their size, in getting into places they had no business being. Explaining to them why their mother hadn't returned with Honor this time had been difficult, but less traumatic than she'd feared. Probably because all of their foster mothers had been there to help them cope with it.
Of course, she reflected, it might also be because they were the first treecats ever to be raised from birth among humans. She couldn't be absolutely certain, since Nimitz had been fully mature when they first met, but it seemed to her that she already tasted a subtle difference in their 'mind-glows.' A sense of horizons that were ... broader. Or more diverse. Something.
'In fact, the whole household was delighted to see me,' she told Benjamin, shaking herself free of her thoughts. 'I've got the hug bruises to prove it, too.'
'Good.' Benjamin took another sip of wine, then returned the glass to the table. Honor would have recognized the 'time to get down to business' gesture even without her ability to taste the emotions behind it, and she cocked her head.
'There was a reason I asked you to dine privately with me,' he said. 'In fact, there was more than one. If Katherine or Elaine had been available, I would have invited them, as well. But Cat was already scheduled for that address to the Navy Wives Association, and then Alexandra came down with the flu.' He shook his head quickly at the flicker of concern the news of his youngest daughter's illness sent through Honor's eyes. 'It's not serious, but Alex is almost as stubborn about admitting she's not feeling well as Honor is, and she managed to get herself dehydrated before she told her mothers she was sick. So Elaine is playing the tyrannical mommy this afternoon.'
'I see, and I'm glad to hear it's nothing more serious than that. But I have to admit that you've made me just a little nervous with your ominous foreshadowing.'
'I didn't mean to do that, but by the same token, I do have some serious concerns, and I've been looking forward to the opportunity to discuss them with you face-to-face.'
His voice was calm, but his eyes were intent, and as Honor gazed at him, she was struck by the weariness and worry hiding behind his composed exterior. And by his age, she realized abruptly. He was forty-seven T-years old, thirteen years younger than she, yet he looked older than Hamish, and she felt a sudden pang, almost a premonition of loss.
She'd felt the same thing last night, sitting at the supper table with her parents, Faith and James, and the Clinkscales when she'd realized how much frailer Lord Howard Clinkscales had become over the past few years. Now she saw the same process, if on a lesser scale, as she gazed at the Protector. Like so many of her pre-prolong Grayson friends, age was inexorably creeping up on him, and it shocked and dismayed her to realize he was already into middle age. It was a vigorous, energetic middle age, yet his dark hair was going silver and there were too many lines on his face.
That was not a thought she wanted to consider at the moment, and she put it resolutely away.
'I wish I could say I were surprised to hear you're concerned,' she told him soberly instead.
'But you're not, of course.' Benjamin cocked his head, and his eyes were both measuring and compassionate as he regarded her. Then he shrugged ever so slightly.
'Honor, I haven't asked you if there was any truth to the rumors about you and Earl White Haven for two reasons. The first, and by far the most important, is that both of you have denied there is, and I've never known either of you to tell even the slightest untruth. Which is most certainly not the case where the people who keep asserting that you've lied are concerned. The second reason, quite frankly, is that even if there had been any truth to them, it would have been your business, not mine. And certainly not that of High Ridge and his toadies.
'I'm quite certain you didn't need me to tell you that,' he continued calmly 'I, on the other hand, needed to say it to you, personally and directly, because you deserve my assurances in that regard as your friend as well as in my official capacity as your liege. But also, I'm afraid, because you and I need to discuss how that entire sordid attack has affected Grayson's relations with the Star Kingdom.'
'I know the effect hasn't been good,' she said somberly. 'You and I have corresponded enough on that topic.'
'We have,' he agreed. 'But the fact that you're about to head off to Silesia isn't helping a great deal.' He raised a hand as she started to protest. 'I'm fully aware that you decided to accept this assignment because you feel a responsibility to the Sidemorians, and because you feel a duty to Elizabeth and the Star Kingdom which transcends the way the current Government's treated you. I admire your ability to reach that decision, and I don't disagree with it. But there's an element here on Grayson, particularly among the Keys who've been pressuring me to reconsider our status under the Alliance, which is openly viewing this assignment as a way for the High Ridge Government to 'run you out of town' without ever admitting that that's what it's doing.'
'I was afraid there would be,' she sighed. 'Unfortunately, I don't really see a way around that.'
'Neither do I. And I'm certainly not second-guessing your decision. As I say, I think that in many ways it was the right one, although I deeply regret the potential personal consequences for you if the situation in Silesia goes as badly as I'm afraid it's going to.'
'Do you have some particular reason for those fears?' she asked intently.
'Not concrete ones.' Benjamin shook his head. 'But Gregory and I have been mulling over the reports from ONI and our own intelligence people, and we don't like the picture that seems to us to be emerging.'
'I wasn't particularly happy over what Admiral Jurgensen's briefers had to say to me, either,' Honor told him. 'But you sound as if you and Greg are seeing something even worse than I saw from them.'
'I don't know about 'worse,' but I've got a hunch that we're seeing more.'
'What do you mean, 'more'?' Honor's frown was more than merely intense now. Gregory Paxton had been her staff intelligence officer when she'd commanded her first battle squadron here at Yeltsin's Star. He held multiple doctorates, and was one of the more brilliant analysts she'd ever worked with. More to the point, Benjamin and his murdered chancellor, Lord Prestwick, had nabbed Paxton from the Navy when they required a new director for Sword Intelligence, and from everything she'd heard since, he'd done an even more impressive job there than he
