Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz] (9 page)

Putting down the needle and thread, she held the garment up to the soft light of a firegel lamp and

examined her handiwork with a critical eye. She was never going to be able to make her living as a

professional seamstress, but the job was passable, she decided. If Ridge complained he could rip out the

embroidery himself.

Kalena uncurled from her stool, stood up and stretched. She still wasn't certain whether she had been

motivated by guilt or an unreasonable notion of duty, but it hardly mattered. The deed was done. She

folded the two shirts and went to the bell to summon a servant. Hand on the bell rope, she paused.

Ridge's apartments were only a few doors down from her own. She could deliver the shirts herself. His

reaction would be interesting to see, Kalena decided. She picked up the folded shirts and headed down

the corridor.

But by the time she reached Ridge's moonwood door, she was experiencing a severe attack of second

thoughts. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She should have sent the shirts along with a

servant. Kalena chewed her lip thoughtfully, her hand raised to knock.

Before she could make up her mind, the door swung open and she found herself staring at Ridge. He

returned her gaze with a somewhat suspicious expression.

"What is it, Kalena?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

Impulsively, she shoved the shirts into his hands. "These are the items you asked me to purchase today.

Knowing the way shopkeepers work, the bill for them will probably be arriving bright and early in the

morning. I didn't want you wondering where the shirts were."

He glanced down at the soft lanti wool garments he was holding, his eyes thoughtful. "They're

embroidered."

"I'm not very good at that sort of thing," Kalena explained hurriedly. "So I didn't make the Rs very

large."

Ridge continued to stare down at the embroidery. Kalena had used a dark brown thread to contrast the

neutral color of the wool. Wonderingly, he stroked one of the letters with the tip of his thumb. "I've never

worn an embroidered shirt."

Kalena cleared her throat, feeling ridiculously nervous. "Yes, well, after you examine my workmanship

under a good light, you might not want to wear these. I wish you good evening, Ridge." She took a step

backward.

"Wait." His head came up quickly, a small frown darkening his eyes.

"Yes, Ridge?"

"Thank you, Kalena. Your work is beautiful. I shall wear the shirts with pride."

She grinned at that. "No need to exaggerate."

His expression relaxed into one tinged with humor. "I take it needlework is not your favorite pastime?"

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Kalena wrinkled her nose. "Weren't there any tasks you had to master while growing up that you would

just as soon never have learned?"

The amusement faded from his eyes. "There are definitely some things I wish I had never had to learn,

Kalena. Sometimes we have no choice, do we?"

"No," she whispered. "Sometimes we have no choice in what we must master." She took another step

away from him, summoning a smile of polite farewell.

He studied her shadowed face for a moment. "Are you afraid of our coming venture together, Kalena?"

Surprised at the question, she just looked at him for a moment. Oh, yes, she thought silently, she was

afraid. She was now beginning to realize just how afraid of her task she really was. Her whole future

hinged on committing an act of horrible violence. How could she not be afraid? Failure meant being

forever disgraced; success meant she would be a murderess. But she had no choice. She must claim her

own future.

"Have I reason to fear, Ridge?" she countered aloud.

"It would be only natural for a young woman in your position to be a little nervous, I think," Ridge said

earnestly. "But I promise to take good care of you on the journey."

Kalena was touched by the sincerity she saw behind his words. She could hardly tell him he wouldn't

have to worry about being burdened with her on the trip, so she just smiled again. "Thank you, Ridge. I

trust the journey will go well."

He coughed slightly as she once more made to leave. "Uh, Kalena, I didn't mean I would just take care

of you on the journey, itself."

"Yes, Ridge?" she prompted, a little confused by his obvious awkwardness. Ridge was not normally a

hesitant man by any stretch of the imagination.

"I meant," he plowed on stolidly, "that I will be a good trade husband to you."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. Kalena was painfully aware of the warmth rising on her cheeks

and was grateful for the shadows. He was having a difficult time and she almost felt sorry for him. "Thank

you for the reassurance," she managed to say dryly.

"Dammit, Kalena, I'm making a poor job of this. What I'm trying to say is, you won't have cause to

regret signing the trade marriage agreement with me instead of some other man." His big hands tightened

on the folded shirts. "And thank you for the fine needlework," he concluded gruffly.

"You're welcome, Ridge." This time Kalena made good her escape, although she was conscious of

Ridge standing in the doorway of his room watching her until she slipped safely into her own apartment.

When she glanced back one last time she thought he was looking down at his shirts, his expression oddly

pleased.

The Fire Whip was not looking at all pleased as evening fell the following day. He encountered Kalena

as she waited in the wide, tiled entry hall of the house for the arrival of Arrisa and her friends. In honor of

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the occasion, Kalena was wearing her most vividly hued tunic, a daringly short affair of yellow and red

Risha cloth over-blue-green trousers. She had high-heeled velvet boots on her feet and her best combs in

her hair. Her one indulgence in the area of jewelry yesterday had been to purchase a set of ear clips

fashioned of tinted glass gems that were supposed to imitate the fabulously expensive green crystal mined

near the Talon Pass. The sparkling glass stones were mounted on narrow, flexible strips that encircled the

entire outer curve of her ear. Kalena had never worn anything like them before in her life. All in all, she

was feeling quite adventurous about the coming evening.

Ridge came around the corner of the hall, apparently on his way to Quintel's apartment. He was wearing

one of his new shirts with a small R worked on the left shoulder. He took one look at Kalena and his

golden eyes came alive with angry heat. "So. You've decided to join Arrisa and her friends, after all."

"I had intended to join them all along," Kalena answered pleasantly. "I simply didn't choose to argue

about it over dinner last night."

The flames in his golden eyes burned higher. "I forbid it."

She sighed. "We both know you haven't that right, Ridge."

"By tomorrow night I will have every right," he snapped. "By the Stones, Kalena, I will not tolerate such

behavior. Do you think I am forbidding tonight's little jaunt just. because I enjoy exercising my authority?"

"Umm. Yes. That seems to be the general reason men forbid women to do things."

He took a long angry step toward her. "I have made this decision for your own good, you contrary little

wench. The same way I will be making other decisions during the course of our marriage. I expect you to

have the sense to obey me. Last night I got the impression you had some measure of common sense. I

assumed—"

The heavy knocker sounded outside and a soft-footed servant slipped into the hall to open the door.

Kalena heard Arrisa's voice, and she smiled up at Ridge. "Have a pleasant evening, Ridge. This is your

last night of freedom, also. You should celebrate. I'd invite you to join us, but I'm afraid the other women

would object."

"Dammit, Kalena, listen to me. This is not the sort of crowd you should be joining."

She swept eagerly toward the door. "You're wrong, Ridge. This is precisely my sort of crowd. I have

waited a good many years to be a freewoman."

"After tomorrow night, you won't be free," he vowed, taking one more dangerous step toward her. "And

the moment you are officially put into my keeping, I'm going to take measures to start correcting your

stubborn ways."

"I can see that you are going to make a very dull sort of husband." Kalena threw him a last, laughing

glance and hurried outside into the balmy evening. The door closed behind her, blocking out the sight of

Ridge's glowering face. "Arrisa, I'm ready."

Arrisa stood on the stone path along with three other women. All were dressed in a dazzling array of

bright tunics and flashing jewelry. They greeted Kalena with wide, infectious grins as Arrisa made

introductions and Kalena knew the evening that lay ahead of her would be unlike any other she had ever

experienced.

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"Let's be off," Arrisa commanded, taking charge of the small crowd. "I have ordered an evening meal at

the Sign of the Dark Key. After all, we'll let the night take us where it will. Don't worry, Kalena, we'll

have you back here in time for your wedding."

Helpless to stop Kalena and thoroughly disgusted by that fact, Ridge opened the great hall doors and

watched the brightly dressed flock of women disappear down the street. Their cheerful laughter floated

back to him on the soft evening air. Tomorrow night, he promised himself, things would be different.

Kalena would learn what it was to have a husband. She was tasting the heady air of freedom tonight,

probably for the first time in her life, but she would only have one night of it. Enough to satisfy her

curiosity, Ridge told himself, but not enough to corrupt her.

Ridge further calmed his temper by telling himself that Arrisa knew better than to go too far when it came

to showing Kalena the life of the freewomen of the town. She knew she would answer to Ridge if she got

Kalena into real trouble. Arrisa was a little wild, but she was not stupid, he decided. She would exercise

some discretion this evening. In addition, Kalena would undoubtedly discover that the fast nightlife

offered by Crosspurposes was more than a little shocking to her country bred sensibilities. Her good

upbringing should afford some protection and caution.

Consoling himself with that thought, Ridge slammed the heavy moonwood door and continued down the

hall toward Quintel's apartments. Tomorrow night, he vowed silently once again, tomorrow night

everything would be different. Unconsciously, he reached up to touch the silken embroidered R on his

shoulder.

The dark hour of midnight came and went without causing a single, disturbing ripple in the boisterous

party. Kalena noticed the time when she happened to glance at a water clock as they entered the fourth

tavern of the evening. She and her new friends then sat at a low plank table in the smoky room and

ordered another round of red ale to share. Almost everyone else in the tavern was male, although a few

other bold women were scattered here and there. Kalena and her friends were drawing stares, just as

they had done in the last three taverns, not just because they were women, but because their laughter and

the jests were becoming increasingly loud. Kalena's voice was already quite hoarse from the effort of

projecting above the general din.

"A toast to the new trade wife!" the blonde woman named Vertina announced for perhaps the tenth time.

Each toast had been a bit bawdier than the last. "May she finally learn the truth about the Fire Whip."

"What truth?" Arrisa demanded, lifting her tankard.

"Why, the truth about his ability to make the steel of Countervail glow red hot," Vertina said with a

wicked grin. "I figured if it's ever going to glow, it will do so in bed. Pay attention tomorrow night,

Kalena. The steel between your husband's legs is from Countervail, you know. Ridge was born there, I

was told. I, for one, have always been curious to know just how hot it can get."

Kalena flushed at the crudeness of the joke, torn between laughter and shock. Even after spending the

evening with this crowd, she was still finding herself startled by some of their ribald remarks. "I'll, uh, try

to pay attention," she mumbled into her tankard.

"That reminds me," another woman interrupted, pulling a small lanti skin pouch out of her pocket. "I have

the bride's present. Surely it's time we gave it to her?"

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Amid more loud laughter, everyone agreed. Kalena smiled expectantly. She had never received many

gifts from Aunt Olara. "That's very kind of you," she said, meaning it. Eagerly she accepted the pouch,

untying the leather thong. Inside, she saw a powder. Cautiously Kalena sniffed. For a moment she

couldn't identify it, and then she remembered Olara preparing a certain concoction at the request of

neighboring farm women. The pungent odor of the selite leaves identified the powder. Kalena's cheeks

turned red again.

"Thank you," she murmured. "It's very thoughtful of all of you."

"You should probably start taking it now," Vertina said. "Just a pinch. Use the ale to wash it down."