“I will leave you to your regular lessons. Her Grace must continue to learn a noblewoman’s bearing,” Sir Justenin said finally, gathering up his papers. “Please continue as you have been. It is important, as Lady Verr says, to know who is who in the city,” he added for Duchess Andelin’s benefit. “Lady Verr, I will ask you to be ourSociety Annualfor the time being, if you please.”
And then he departed, and Mionet drew a quiet breath to compose herself. Try as she might, she couldn’t imagine what that could have been about.
“I am sorry for that,” Duchess Andelin said, rising to put on the kettle. “I think I see what he means now, but I am sure that was very unpleasant. Like telling tales on your friends.”
“Men always believe women are more conniving than we are,” Mionet laughed, trying to recover. It would be good if Duchess Andelin framed it in those terms. “Sometimes I wonder if it is a test of heaven, to make us think we speak the same language.”
“It was very interesting,” the lady replied, frowning at her train as she attempted to sit. The first order of Tiffen’s promised gowns had arrived, and today’s gown was very much of the Segoile mode, apple-green and veined with golden embroidery that made the lady look like a jewel. It was also heavy, cumbersome, and too chilly to be worn out of doors, but those were secondary considerations. She would have been fit for the finest salon in the capital.
“Well, Segoile is quite a diverting place,” Mionet replied, relaxing. “I know you are not pleased to be going, my lady, and I’m sure I was quite nervous, on my first visit. But it would be a shame if you let it spoil your visit entirely. There are so many wonderful things to see and delightful people to meet.”
“Who should I meet first?” Duchess Andelin asked, and listened as Mionet told her about Countess Josune Desettier,originally of Noreven, a fascinating woman who had married Count Desettier. Mionet was rather proud of this acquaintance; it was nicely innocuous even if Sir Justenin should hear about it, and it had been the patient work of three solid years, earning an invitation to Countess Desettier’s salon.
“Why would you choose to introduce her to me?” Duchess Andelin wanted to know.
“Well, because I have heard you on several occasions express an interest in magic, my lady,” Mionet said, leaning forward confidentially. “The countess was a practitioner in her own country, though of course she cannot use it in the Empire. Have you heard of Noreveni magic?”
“No.” Duchess Andelin looked perfectly thrilled. “I mean, I know they have magic, but nothing more about it. Madam Sanai has a little magic too, but she says there’s only a wisp of it in the valley. I wonder why that is.”
“And that is why I would introduce you to the countess,” Mionet replied, smiling. “You see it is no deep design, my lady. In Segoile, it is often a matter of matching affinities and then enjoying the results. I believe you would enjoy each other’s conversation, so I would make a match of you two. It is pleasant work, is it not?”
“It is, I like that. That’s much the same way you described managing a conversation,” said Duchess Andelin reflectively. “Arranging the proper participants and taking care to avoid any difficult subjects.”
Threading this needle was tricky. Mionet already knewexactlyto whom she would introduce the Duchess of Andelin; it was part of the elaborate dance of capital society, expanding one’s influence by using one’s contacts. There would be many people who wished to approach Princess Ophele, the Duchess of Andelin, and Mionet’s gamble had given her entrée no one else could match.
The trick now was to parlay this priceless contact into more tangible favors, and ideally to do it so skillfully, Duchess Andelin was none the wiser. Or even better, enjoyedit.
All of which would have been tricky enough without His Grace thundering into the manor like a sporadic rockslide.
“Wife,” he announced later that morning, ducking into the door of the solar. Apropergentleman knocked and announced himself before entering the women’s area of a house, but Duke Andelin just burst in, leaving Mionet to terminate her story mid-word.
“Your Grace.” She rose and curtsied in one motion, but she needn’t have bothered. His eyes were all for his wife.
“Guian says he’s got another shipment, and you can have first pick of it, if you go by the shop this afternoon,” said Duke Andelin. His eyes narrowed as he looked around the solar. “Where are Leonin and Davi?”
“They haven’t come yet.” Duchess Andelin lifted her chin as he approached for an inspection, as if she might have sustained some injury over tea. “It’s all right, Justenin left only a little while ago.”
“I don’t want you left alone,” he replied, pinching her chin between his fingers. His gaze flicked to include Mionet in the admonition. “Next time, send one of the servants to fetch them right away. And lock the door in the meantime.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Mionet’s curtsy concealed her rolling eyes. The duke was always unreasonable where the lady’s safety was concerned, but lately it had been escalating to ludicrous levels.
“But—they said they were going to see Genon,” Duchess Andelin protested. “It’s really all ri—”
“I told you that you are not to be left alone.Ever,”he said, glowering. “Lady Verr does not constitute a guard.”
“I know,” the duchess answered, so meekly it set Mionet’s teeth on edge. “Genon came to see me before he went to see them, so I’m sure they’ll be here soon. And he said that I’m perfectly well, I told you it was just a little headache.”
“It does no harm to make sure.”
“I’ve been sitting and resting all morning,” she soothed. “Lady Verr was telling me about the salons in the capital, and look, Master Tiffen sent up another gown…”
“I like the color,” he said grudgingly, and Mionet went to observe her embroidery basket to give them some privacy while he grumbled about Segoile nonsense and stole a kiss. A proper Segoile nobleman would have maintained a polite distance from his wife in company, and Mionet rather resented these repeated intrusions. That message could have been delivered by anyone, but lately he had been seizing the least excuse to come and look in on his wife.
At least their murmured conversation was informative. Mionet stilled as she heard excited murmurs about someone named Miche returning; surely that must be Sir Miche of Harnost, who had been dispatched to Aldeburke on some errand. There was not a woman in Segoile who hadn’t heard of him: half cautionary tales, half torrid speculation, and the women he hadactuallybedded only told wilder stories. A number of ladies of Mionet’s acquaintance had schemed to seek his favor, but she was not among them. Mionet Verr had no use for the notorious lovers of the capital.
“Don’t let me find you so again,” the duke admonished as he was leaving, with another impressive scowl. “Lock the door, I’ll go turn up Leonin and Davi.”
Such abully!It was hardly necessary to take such a tone with Duchess Andelin; she wouldn’t stick her nose out the window if the house was on fire, if she thought it would displeasehim. And though none of her pique showed in her expression, for once Mionet’s temper got the better of her.
