“By treaty,” Zane said. Her tone wasn’t bitter, but there was a hint of something harsher than resignation in her voice.
“By treaty, of course,” Vaughn said. “A treaty my father supported and I fully support, because it prevents Strymon from wasting resources by trying to compete where we cannot compete successfully.”
He lifted the decanter and gestured toward Daniel; Daniel shook his head minutely in refusal. Vaughn poured for himself and continued, watching the sparkling liquid swirl into the glass, “Strymon does have frigates, though, very similar to your ship. I think with those frigates, properly commanded and supported as they should be by the government, we could sweep the Sack clear of pirates as we did under my father. Don’t you?”
He met Daniel’s eyes. Daniel nodded and said, “Well, sir, if the opinion of a junior lieutenant is of any importance—yes, I think you’re right.”
And I hope it happens soon, he thought; but while Daniel was no politician, he was too much his father’s son to blurt that while stone sober. Which he wouldn’t be much longer if he didn’t watch himself.
“I think I’ve monopolized the company of my host for long enough, sir,” he said, offering Vaughn his hand. “Mistress Zane, a pleasure to meet you. I hope your stay on Cinnabar is profitable.”
The Strymon aide slid the screen away as soon as Daniel’s hand touched it. He stepped out of the bower and saw Hogg waiting for him with a glass of something clear that wasn’t likely to be water. That looked even better than Shawna and Elinor, but by heaven they were waiting too!
Whistling a tune he’d learned on Bantry as “The Farmer’s Daughter,” Daniel walked toward the trio. The rest of the afternoon was for pleasure, or he’d know the reason why.
Chapter Seven
The barge nosed back up on Rakoscy Islet with the last load of the guests who’d dispersed throughout the Gardens during the course of the party. The leaves on the shrubs and the islet’s ground cover were canted to catch the late afternoon sun, giving the shore a subtly different appearance from the one Daniel and his companions had left two hours before.
Shawna and Elinor pressed close to Daniel from either side, cooing things that probably wouldn’t have made sense even if he’d bothered to listen to them. The young noble he’d cut out was sitting under a bower, drinking straight from a bottle and glaring at Daniel with undisguised hatred. His nervous-looking servant was close by; a balked noble was likely to be a dangerous master.
You’re welcome to them now, buddy, Daniel thought. I haven’t been so tired out since I climbed Hessian Hill when I was six and then realized I had to get down again before nightfall. In a few days this afternoon would be one to remember fondly. At the moment, Daniel just wanted to be shut of the girls and to have a chance to sleep.
Adele had been sitting primly alone in a bower with the personal data unit deployed on her lap. She didn’t look out of place; from her smile, she was having at least as good a time as anyone else at the party. When the barge tooted twice to announce its return, she’d shut down the data unit and walked toward the shore.
Tovera wasn’t at first visible, but Daniel suddenly spotted her at the serving tables where she could see the interiors of the bowers. Hogg waited where the barge had grounded, standing stiffly with his hands crossed behind his back. He was probably very drunk. It was hard to imagine a circumstance in which Hogg, surrounded by free liquor, wouldn’t become very drunk.
“Girls,” Daniel said, holding a hand of each girl and then joining them to one another as he stepped away, “I have to speak privately with my servant at once. I’ll never forget having met you!”
“Oh, Danny!” they said in dismayed unison. They’d have clasped him again but he managed to make his escape.
Adele reached where Hogg stood at the same time Daniel did. “Quick!” Daniel whispered. “Come up with a reason I can’t ride back with those girls.”