“Don’t stare, dear,” Aunt Kade muttered, holding her knitting at arm’s length and screwing up her eyes. “They’re coming as fast as they can. ”
“What! I mean, beg pardon?”
“It would appear that they’re heading toward us,” Aunt Kade told her needles. “But of course they must pay their respects to the others first.”
“That’s what they call a young man, isn’t it? I think we used to have some of those around Krasnegar.”
“Sarcasm is not ladylike,” Aunt Kade said mildly. “Try not to drool over him too much. He was at the ball last night.”
“I didn’t see him!”
“He noticed you.” Aunt Kade’s smile registered satisfaction. Angrily Inos pretended to concentrate on her embroidery. Mention of the previous night reminded her yet again of the tragedy—she had lost her mother’s ruby brooch. She could not forgive herself for being so careless. She was certain that it had still been there when she retired to bed and that she had unpinned it and laid it on her dressing table. Yet that was obviously impossible, because there had been no brooch there in the morning. Of course the door of their suite had been bolted—Aunt Kade always insisted on that. They had even considered burglary as an explanation, but had been forced to discard it. A team of circus cats could not have reached their windows. Of all the heirlooms that her father had given her, her mother’s ruby brooch had been the most precious to her, and now she had been so unthinkably careless and stupid and ungrateful and—
The duke! She bounced up hurriedly from her chair.
“Sir Andor,” Duke Angilki explained. “Princess Kadolan of Krasnegar.”
The young man bowed over Aunt Kade’s hand. Yes, very nice indeed! He was an imp, of course—and how Inos longed now for the sight of a tall, blond jotunn just to break the monotony—but he was not short and he was not swarthy. His hair was black, but his skin showed a gleaming, healthy tan, a smooth complexion with just a hint of blue chin to save the perfectly regular features from any hint of femininity. Handsome! Then he straightened and turned to her and she saw smiling dark eyes and perfect white teeth. Handsome did not do justice.
“And Princess Inosolan,” said her portly host, “may I present to your Highness my friend Sir Andor? Sir Andor, this is Princess Kadolan’s niece.”
“I shall always remember this day,” Sir Andor said, “when all my standards of beauty and grace had to be discarded as inadequate, when all other ladies faded in my sight, when my highest dreams and aspirations were suddenly made worthless by my first glimpse of feminine perfection in the divine form of the Princess Inosolan.”
He stooped to touch his lips to her hand. Inos was still trying to think of some equally outrageous reply when their eyes met again and she saw that he was laughing. She was so surprised that she did not hear what she said, but apparently it was satisfactory.
“You have just arrived at Kinvale then, Sir Andor?” Aunt Kade inquired.
“Two days ago, ma’am.”
“I have been trying to persuade him to spend some time with us,” the duke huffed, “but he insists that he must rush off.”
“A month at the most!” Andor said. “I have most urgent responsibilities to call me away, although I know already that my heart will never leave. Even the presence of such celestial beauty is insufficient…”
Inos resumed her seat as the flowery phrases were tossed around, the duke and Aunt Kade apparently serious, while she was quite certain this young Andor was treating it all as ludicrous nonsense and offering to share the joke with her. It was a wonderful surprise to discover that she was not the only sane person in the world. Then the duke made some excuses and moved off, pausing to dispense more greetings. A miasma of disapproval arose from the company in general—obviously the sensational young Andor had been brought out especially to meet Inos, and that was being regarded as sneaky favoritism.
Aunt Kade took the hint and asked him if he would care to sit.
He did so, studying her with an expression of wonder.
“Of course that is your portrait in the gallery,” he said. “I noticed it at once. It quite puts all the other so-called beauties to shame, and yet it does not do you justice.”
Aunt Kade preened. “It was painted many years ago.”
“But a silver setting enhances the finest gems, and nothing else has changed. Your coloring . . .”
Inos had heard some outrageous flattery sessions in the previous month, but nothing that could have touched the performance that followed. With quick, deft strokes, like a skilled fishwife filleting, Andor reduced Aunt Kade to simpering blushes. Compliments so excessive could not possibly be intended seriously, yet that did not stop them being effective in the hands of an expert. Then he turned his attention to Inos. She wondered what heights of hypocrisy he would scale now, but the cynical twinkle was back in his eye again, and he surprised her once more. “But you, ma’am . . . on reconsideration, I find your appearance most displeasing.”
Inos had been preparing a small smile of ladylike modesty; taken unaware, she stammered. Aunt Kade opened her mouth to protest, then closed it.
“To come so close to perfection,” Andor said, putting his head on one side and pretending to study her, “and then fail to achieve it is a sin against all art. It offends one’s sensibilities. A much lesser beauty that confined itself within its own limitations would not impart this aura of failure, of excessive ambition unrealized.”
He leaned back to consider her further. “What is required, I think . . . yes . . . what is really needed . . . is a touch of fire. Then we should see divinity!”
He held out a hand with Inos’ brooch on the palm.
Speechless with astonishment, Inos examined the brooch. Aunt Kade expressed pleasure and demanded an explanation.
“A most curious tale!” Andor said solemnly. “Just after dawn this morning I was putting a hunter over a few jumps, over on the far side of the park there, when I saw a bird fly overhead with something shiny . . .”
Had he told it with a straight face, Inos thought, she would certainly have believed him, but every time Aunt Kade’s eyes left his face he gleamed a secret grin at Inos and she found she was sliding closer and closer to an attack of giggles.
“I believe you can even see the very tree in which the jackdaws have their nest,” he said, rising and peering over the lake. “Yes, there.” He pointed and of course Inos had to rise to see where he was pointing. “No, farther to the left . . .” He led her around one of the willows.
In a few moments, still trying to see the tree with the jackdaws’ nest, Inos found that she was out of earshot of Aunt Kade. Still pointing, Andor said, ”Doesn’t this place make you want to puke?”
“Oh, yes!” Inos peered along his arm for the benefit of the many disapproving watchers and said, “Raving mad. Is there really a jackdaw tree?”
“Gods, no! I found your brooch on the rug last night. The pin was loose. I had it repaired. Do you like riding?” He was looking back and forth from her to the horizon and she was nodding as if he were pointing out landmarks; leading her eye to the mythical jackdaws. “Fishing? Boating? Archery? Right!”
He led her back to her chair and gave Aunt Kade a disapproving frown. ”Your niece tells me she has not yet seen the water caves!” What water caves?
“Well, we have only recently arrived at Kinvale,” Aunt Kade protested.
“But this is the best time of year to see them, when the river is low. Don’t you agree?”
He skillfully cornered Aunt Kade into conceding that she had visited the water caves in her youth. Thus she could hardly object when Andor announced that he would organize a party of some young ladies and gentlemen to view the water caves. He went on to discuss the annual salmon run, when the rivers were red from bank to bank with fish as large as sheep, to grape tramping in the vineyards, to the giant sequoias, to treasure hunts, to royal tennis, to hayrides and waterfalls and boating expeditions with picnic lunches, to bathing in the natural hot springs, to falconry and fly fishing, to a dozen other entrancing possibilities. There was no suggestion that any of these ventures would involve less than a dozen people and he tossed out the names of very respectable companions, evidently being on terms of friendship with almost everyone at Kinvale and most of the surrounding countryside as well. It was a staggering presentation and it left Inos’ head whirling.