“I remember her cooking,” William said. “It was almost enough to convince me to stay in the navy.”
Kat met his eyes. “I could get your commission reactivated,” she said gently. “You’d be welcome.”
“Not everywhere,” William said. “Colonials have been having a very hard time of it.”
“You could set a good example,” Kat pointed out, trying not to wince. “And if you rose higher . . .”
William shook his head. “Besides, I accepted a responsibility to Asher Dales,” he added. “I can’t just abandon them, not until they have a formal naval establishment of their own.”
“They’ll probably hire others,” Kat said. She sighed, knowing that William wouldn’t give in so quickly. He was an honorable man. “If you change your mind, please let me know.”
“I will,” William said. He looked down at the table. “I don’t like the way things have been going on Tyre. This . . . someone backing the Theocrats . . . this is the very last straw.”
Lucy entered before Kat could say a word, carrying a tray of food. “This is my very best turkey bake,” she said, putting it down on the table. “Can I get you a drink? Either of you?”
“Water for me, please,” William said when Kat glanced at him. “I’ll have something stronger later.”
“Water for me too,” Kat said. She’d never been a heavy drinker, even when she’d been a midshipwoman. One hangover had been quite enough for her. “The food looks good.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Lucy said. She took a jug of water from the drinks cabinet and poured them each a glass, then bobbed a curtsy and withdrew. “Ring if you need me.”
Kat reached for the spoon and ladled a midsized helping onto William’s plate. The food smelled good too, a mixture of turkey, pasta, cheese, and something she didn’t quite recognize. She served herself afterwards, then sat back in her chair. Her stomach was rumbling hungrily, reminding her that it had been too long since she’d eaten. She’d been busy preparing her ship for war.
William cocked his head. “Who do you think did it?”
“Good question,” Kat said, trying to disguise her irritation. Her family might enjoy discussing galactic politics over the dinner table, but she didn’t. She’d expected better from William. But then, it was the first chance they’d had in the last three weeks to actually talk privately. Tanya had monopolized most of his time. “And I don’t have an answer.”
She took a bite of her food and chewed it slowly, enjoying the taste. “Father wouldn’t have backed a fool like Admiral Morrison,” she said. “And even if he had, he would have told me that Morrison was one of our clients. He would have been a great deal more deferential to me too.”
William lifted his eyebrows. “I thought he spent half his time kissing your ass.”
Kat had to smile, even though the mental image his words brought was revolting. “He would have been more willing to listen to me, perhaps even to do what I said, if he was one of our clients. Even if I hadn’t known, William, he would have known. And he wouldn’t have known that I didn’t know.”
“I’m sure that makes sense on some level,” William said.
Kat snorted. “That’s High Society for you,” she said. “Now you know why I wanted to leave it. The navy . . . the navy is more honest than High Society.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” William said.
“But there’s more at stake on a starship than back home,” Kat countered. “And the environment will kill an idiot who doesn’t know to maintain the life support.”
She put her fork on the plate and looked up. “The problem is that anyone could have backed Admiral Morrison,” she said. “Well, it would have to be someone fairly high up. But . . . even if they hadn’t ordered Admiral Morrison to refrain from making any preparations for war, they’d be in real trouble when the truth came out. They’d have every reason in the world to cover it up. And they might succeed.”
Her lips formed a faint smile. “They did succeed.”
“But now we see something far darker than a desperate attempt to cover up a mistake,” William pointed out. “Someone, perhaps the same someone, has also been backing the Theocracy. Who?”
“It would have to be someone wealthy enough to do so without causing more than a blip in the financial records,” Kat said. “Someone arrogant enough to believe that they wouldn’t get caught, or that they wouldn’t suffer badly if they were caught. Or someone desperate . . . Cavendish is desperate. But I don’t believe they had significant problems before the war.”
“And if the Theocracy won,” William mused, “they’d be executed.”
Kat nodded. She’d seen enough horrors over the last five years to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Theocratic occupation was an utter nightmare. The worlds the Theocracy had managed to occupy during the war were traumatized—Hebrides had been turned into a radioactive ruin—and the worlds they’d ruled for decades were even worse. Asher Dales had been quite lucky. There were liberated worlds that had been on the verge of civil war for the last year or so. No one in their right mind would want a Theocratic victory.
And Admiral Morrison’s backers could have done much more to sabotage the war effort, if they’d wanted us to lose, Kat thought. Anyone with the sort of power and influence necessary to put Morrison in high office and then cover it up when he proved himself a cowardly incompetent could have done a great deal more damage. Why didn’t they?
She put the thought aside for later contemplation and took another mouthful. “Duke Rudbek has a reputation for being ruthless,” she mused. For once, she wished she’d paid more attention to Candy’s endless gossipmongering. “Duke Tolliver isn’t much better. He’s skirted quite close to the legal lines in the past, if rumor is to be believed. Duchess Zangaria never liked me,
