Heart Choice (12 page)

“Danith wouldn't care.”

“No, but who knows who else might be at T'Ash's?”

“Just the three of us. And the animal menagerie,” Mitchella said. T'Ash was always as antisocial as Antenn felt tonight.

But Danith wasn't.

Trif 's bottom lip stuck out.

“I don't want to work at heavy conversation or being nice.” She held up a small package. “Uncle Mel anticipated my nameday, and I have a new holoconstruct of Ancient Earth that I want to put together and morph.”

Antenn, with Pinky draped over one skinny shoulder, nudged Mitchella to one side of the scrybowl and looked in. “Where'd Mel get that?”

“He took me to the Ship,
Nuada's Sword.
”

“Zow! You went to the Ship? Did the construct cost much?”

Trif dimpled, wiggled her brows at them both. “Invite me over, and I will tell all.”

Mitchella laughed. “I foresee an end to both of your evening doldrums. Trif, I have a new project.” Mitchella straightened to her full height. “I'm renovating T'Blackthorn Residence.”

Trif 's eyes widened, and her mouth hung open for an instant. “Blessings! What a coup.” Her glance went to Antenn. “Antenn can tell me all about it.”

“Yes.” He smiled into the scrybowl.

“I'll catch the public carrier and be there shortly,” Trif ended the call.

Mitchella squeezed Antenn's shoulder. “Happier now?”

Grinning, Antenn rubbed his hands. “The Ancient Earth contstruct and Trif are welcome here tonight.”

Mitchella only waited long enough to let Trif in and get her settled before donning her raincloak and strolling off to the public carrier and the Ashes.

Eight

The public carrier glider system was fast and efficient,
and Mitchella reached the Ashes' a few moments before dinner would be announced.

Danith opened the door herself and hugged Mitchella. “Where's Antenn?” she asked. Ever since she'd discovered herself pregnant, Danith had “practiced mothering” on various Clover children. Since she'd been the one to suggest Mitchella as a guardian for Antenn, she kept a sharp eye on their relationship.

“Antenn declined the invitation, he's at home, with Trif supervising.” Mitchella said as she handed the T'Ash butler her wrap. She turned and looked directly into Straif Blackthorn's eyes.

He grinned. “What a coincidence. Mitchella has agreed to redesign my Residence. A very talented lady.”

Mitchella darted a glance at Danith. She looked surprised, Mitchella was sure her best friend hadn't known of Mitchella's job with Straif, hadn't invited him to play matchmaker or anything. Of course she wouldn't. No one knew better than Danith that a FirstFamily Lord wanted children, a strong bloodline.

Now Danith was frowning at her. “You didn't tell me.”

“We just had our first consultation this morning. I was saving the news for tonight.”

Danith raised her eyebrows.

“I didn't know if GrandLord T'Blackthorn and I could work together,” Mitchella said primly.

The man in question glided forward. “Oh, yes. We can.” He offered his hand and studied her from under lazy eyelids.

Mitchella grasped his fingers to shake, and he lifted her hand to his mouth, turned it over and kissed the hollow of her palm, sending tingles of heat straight to her center. She slipped her hand from his, refusing to curl her fingers like a young girl, to hold the kiss.

T'Ash walked into the entry hall from his ResidenceDen, followed by cats. Only three, so Mitchella knew the rest of Danith's menagerie was excluded from the formal rooms this evening. Pansy, Danith's cat—not a Fam—mewed sweetly, and Danith picked her up. Zanth, T'Ash's Fam, trotted into the room as if he owned everyone and everything. He still was the ugliest tomcat Mitchella had ever seen, scarred from a thousand fights. Drina, Straif's Fam, minced in, nose high. She wore a string around her neck and whined—imperiously.

The other three people turned to her. Danith smiled and said, “We're measuring Drina for her Fam collar.”

Mitchella choked; jewels for a cat!

Scowling, T'Ash said, “Drina will cost you a bundle.”

Straif shrugged. “T'Blackthorns have more than one fortune.”

Drina mewed. T'Ash laughed shortly. “That cat's arrogance never ceases to amaze me.” He stared down at the half-Siamese. “We are finished with the topic of your collar tonight. I will
not
design and craft it now. It's time for dinner.” He wrapped a burly arm around Danith's still slim waist and hurried her into the dining room. “You need to eat more.”

“I am eating just fine,” Danith said.

Straif offered his arm to Mitchella. “Shall we?” He sniffed. “Something smells very good.”

Zanth shot into the dining room, Pansy followed, and Drina, tail waving sinuously, padded after the other two cats.

Chuckling, Straif caught Mitchella's hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow, striding toward the small dining room that Mitchella had convinced T'Ash was acceptable for family meals. The table seated eight.

Mitchella gazed at Straif from under her lashes. He seemed much more lighthearted here, away from his Residence and the memories it called forth. This was the third facet she'd seen of the man. The first, the sexy loner she'd met at The Woad Garden, then the troubled man this morning, now this charming GrandLord. Perhaps it was the fourth facet—she couldn't forget the passionate man who'd pressed against her with desire and need.

“Do you think of us together?” Straif whispered.

Wildly, she wondered if he could read her thoughts and hauled her composure around her. “Why do you think that?”

“You're flushed and had a certain look in your eye. I can only hope that it related to me.”

“Just because we are thrown together tonight doesn't mean I intend to see you after hours.”

He pulled out a chair for her. “So I must thank the Lady and Lord for tonight and do all my wooing at the Residence.”

“You mistake your words.” Her smile was bitter. “We both know you are merely interested in seduction.” Lifting and dropping her shoulder dismissively had him focusing on her breasts again, but she didn't care. Let him see what he'd never touch. Her control was strong, and she didn't think he'd be loverlike in front of other members of his class.

He scowled.

Danith said, “T'Blackthorn, you can sit next to T'Ash and talk about that miserable trip he and I took to the mines.”

Straif frowned at her, but Danith ignored it. He strode around the table and jerked back the heavy chair next to T'Ash.

“I don't have anything more to say about the trip,” T'Ash grumbled. He glanced over to the tiled corner of the room where the cats ate. “Though Zanth and I are in your debt, Blackthorn, for the value of the stones, even though your ancestors should not have taken the lambenthysts from their cave.”

Danith grinned. “That was before my time with you, so
I
am free and clear of being part of any debt.”

T'Ash flushed a little. His eyes softened as they rested on his HeartMate, and he took her hand. “We were courting you.”

Turning over her hand, Danith linked fingers for a moment, and Straif said, “The mines are only important because they might lead me to the cause of the mutation of my Family's gene that leaves us susceptible to the Angh illness. Blackthorns didn't always lack immunity to that sickness. That's my greatest priority, finding a cure for my gene.”

For Mitchella the Ashes' loving gestures emphasized the coolness of Straif's words. His search for a cure was more important than restoring his Residence. Just as bonding with a HeartMate would be more important than an affair with Mitchella. She wouldn't leave herself open to such hurt.

The doors swung open, and servers brought in food and wine. Danith turned the conversation to the renovation of the area once known as Downwind. After new housing had been built in the southwest sector of Druida, FirstFamily Lords and Ladies had leveled the old buildings. Slowly, each section of the slum had been cleared of old energy and reblessed by priests and priestesses. In a few months, new buildings would be constructed. Mitchella's ward, Antenn, was studying with one of the architectural firms that was drawing up plans. All the Councils would vote on how the new portion of Druida would look.

Talk was lively, since everyone had their own opinions as to style. They all anticipated the posting of holominiatures in the GuildHall.

When the dinner ended, they walked to a sitting room. Mitchella tingled from the feel of Straif's body next to hers as they walked the short distance with matching steps, her hand on his arm. Smiling wickedly, he covered her fingers with his own, igniting sparks of pleasure in her core. She tried to look unaffected.

She'd decorated the sitting room, and as they entered, she studied Straif to see if he liked the room. Their tour of T'Blackthorn Residence had been so limited that she needed input on his preferences. He studied the room, but remained impassive.

Danith held open the door for the cats.

Zanth trotted in and stared at Mitchella. She'd finally figured out that the best way to treat the cat was with studied impoliteness. It was the only attitude he accepted from her. She ignored him.

Pain at the noise of his words shot through her head. Since she'd spent time with Danith and T'Ash, her Flair had increased slightly, and the cat also tried to make sure she could hear him, much as she'd care to forgo the experience.

“So go,” T'Ash said.

“No celtaroons or sewer rats, please, Zanth,” Danith said.

The tom grinned, and it was scary. He slid a glance to Straif. “Plenty of big rats in T'Blackthorn Estate.”

Mitchella grimaced. Was that what she'd felt this morning—gazes of a rat pack? She blinked. No, it had been more intense than mere rodents. She eyed one of the twoseats and decided to play it safe and pulled away from Straif to take a chair.

“I walled up the garden door today,” Straif said. He drew a chair out of an arrangement and close to hers, lounging into it.

Zanth sniffed. “Other ways in—for Cats. Good skirls to hunt there, too.”

Straif waved a hand. “Go to it.”

Zanth shot from the room.

Drina watched him with disdain, then pranced over to Straif and leapt to his lap, curled up, and began to purr. He petted her but looked at Mitchella from under lowered lashes.

She'd been separated from him for less than a minute, and she missed his touch. His glance reminded her of the kiss they'd shared—something she was sure he intended. Heat spread through her lower body, but she refrained from shifting. Her mind, her will, denied him. Her body wanted more.

T'Ash walked past the lord's wingchair to sit beside his wife on a plush twoseat and asked for tea. Danith and T'Ash ordered tea, Straif and Mitchella ordered caff. A moment later a server entered, pushing a large hover-tray that contained two china pots and several cups. As she studied the design, Mitchella smiled. She'd done good work, there, helping T'Ash and Danith devise a pattern for the Family china. It was colorful with delicate touches, something that reflected and pleased them both. Good work.

Smiling, Danith said, “Mitchella chose the china, and planned the interiors of this room and the dining room.”

Mitchella sipped her caff. It was hot and dark and bold. She looked at Straif. “Tomorrow morning I'll bring you holos of my other work, and you tell me what you find acceptable.”

The deep bong of the door scry echoed through the room. An instant later the butler hurried into the room, bowed to T'Ash while looking at Straif.

“GreatLord T'Holly is here, wishing to converse with T'Blackthorn.”

“Let him in,” T'Ash said. He looked under heavy brows at Straif. “T'Holly and I have a three-generation alliance, but I'll be glad to loan you a private room to talk.”

Straif's jaw had set, and his eyes darkened to deep blue. “Trouble.” He studied Danith, T'Ash. “We've already spun a thread of honor between us. I needn't be private.” He laughed shortly. “I certainly don't want to have such a meeting at T'Blackthorn Residence.”

Mitchella stood. “I'll leave.”

Before she even finished her sentence, Straif leaned forward and bracletted her wrist with his strong fingers, looked up at her. “Stay.”

Heat rose to her face. Though he sat and she stood, power radiated from him. “You can't want me knowing your private affairs.”

“If T'Holly has left his Residence at this time of night and tracked me down, I have a feeling that my private affairs will not be too very private by the morning.”