Venture Untamed (The Venture Books) (7 page)

“Coming!” Jade turned to Venture. “Able drove me here. He’s waiting outside to take you home. Father’s got a mountain of records waiting for you tonight,” she said confidentially. “He says he needs a set of good, young eyes to go over them with him, but I think he just misses having you around the house all day.”

No doubt he wanted to know how things had gone today. And what was Venture going to say about that?

“Good-bye, Vent,” Jade said. “Justice.”

Justice said good-bye to her, then turned on Venture with a fierce whisper. “What do you think you’re doing?”

 
“Going to get dressed so I can get to work. What are you doing?”

“I decided to drop by on my way home and see how things were going.”

“You’re checking up on me.”

“I’m your guardian. I have responsibilities.”

As though he knew nothing about responsibilities.

Justice put a hand on his back and nudged him aside. He lowered his voice. “What are you doing being so casual with her in a place like this? She is Jade Fieldstone.”

“I know who she is.” Venture shrugged his hand off. “I have to go change.”

When he emerged from the changing room, Justice was still there in the hallway, putting on his gloves.

“You don’t seem to understand.” Justice picked up right where they’d left off. “She’s a beautiful girl from a good family. Before you know it, she’ll be the most desired lady in Springriver county.”

Venture slipped by and headed for the center door, buttoning his coat.
 

“And she’s going to have to start acting like it.”

“How’s that your business?” Venture pushed the front door open.

On the stoop, Justice caught Venture’s arm. “You’re my business. What do you think people see when they look at the two of you together?”

Venture pulled away.
 

“They think something improper is going on.”

“What?”

“At the very least they see a young bondsman who doesn’t know his place. They think someone ought to put you in your place.”

Venture stuffed back a stream of curses and stepped down to the path. First Hunter and now Justice, reminding him about his place.

“It’s nothing but trouble for you.”

Nothing but trouble? His friendship with Jade was the only good thing that had come out of the terrible things that had happened to both of them. He spun around. “How am I supposed to just stop being friendly to my mistress? She isn’t going to like it and she is the boss, isn’t she?” he said sarcastically.

“She’s never been the boss to you.”

“That’s right. Jade doesn’t want to be my boss.” They’d settled that the day they’d met, and she hadn’t given him another order since.

“You explain to her what I’ve told you, and if she really cares about you, she’ll agree to leave you alone.”

No, she wouldn’t. Jade would cling all the more tightly to their friendship, be all the more obvious about it out of spite to anyone who would try to tell her who she could befriend.
 

“I am not going to do that.” He threw his bag down and glared up at Justice. Would decking his brother count as getting into another fight?

Justice’s hands curled into fists. “Do you think Grant Fieldstone is the only one who can give you a beating for that—that kind of defiance?”

Venture had learned to judge a man’s hands. His brother had heavy hands, hands that could do some damage. Still, he said, “If that’s what you want to do, then go ahead and do it.”

Justice flinched slightly, then straightened up, folded his arms, and pronounced with quiet, commanding resolve, “Things aren’t this way because I want them to be. If you want to blame someone for the way things are, then blame the Cresteds.” He nodded his head toward the street. There was Border, chatting away with Hunter Longlake.

“They’re the ones who started it all,” Justice said, “and they’re the ones who keep things the way they are. Even if you disagree with me about the timing, you know you have to end this friendship eventually.”

Venture clenched his mouth shut. It was true, and he hated it.

 
“Do you want it to be when when someone makes an accusation about you, or do you want Grant Fieldstone and everyone else to see that you’re a young man, able to do the right thing, the honorable thing, on your own?”

Venture glanced at Border again. Border, kissing up to his Crested friend. He ought to be preparing for a career in politics, not the Warforce. Accusing him of doing something improper with his master’s daughter was just the sort of thing Border would do. The sort of thing that could ruin not just Venture’s life, but Jade’s. And the perfect way to punish Grant Fieldstone for breaking with tradition. Grant, who’d risked so much for him. He felt sick at the thought.

He turned back to Justice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Call her Miss Fieldstone. Treat her the same way every other manservant in the house treats her. The way you treat her grandmother.”

Venture didn’t move, didn’t pick up his bag as Justice proceeded down the path. When Justice glanced over his shoulder to see if he was coming, he crossed his arms and stood firm.

“When will you be home tonight?”

“Master wants my help going over his accounts. It could be late.” Hopefully. Hours poring over columns of mind-numbing numbers with Grant would be preferable to stretching out by the fire with Justice.

“I expect you to come home as soon as you’re dismissed,” Justice said pointedly.

Venture gritted his teeth.
It’s pretty clear what you expect, what you think of me, Justice
. He’d had enough of Justice’s expectations. Enough of everyone’s expectations.

Venture jumped up to the driver’s seat of the carriage beside Able, without a word. Able’s smile of greeting faded.

“That bad, was it?”

Venture shook his head. “Justice.”

“That all?”

Venture just let out a long sigh. “He’s not the only one who doesn’t want me in there.”

Able got the horses going and drove off the center grounds, out of town, and Venture thought he’d gotten away with ending the conversation without ever really starting it, until they were headed out of the valley, up the hill.

Able shifted somewhat uncomfortably, and Venture knew something was coming.

“It’s never easy going against the grain, Vent,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. “But you’ve got a God-given knack for it.”

Venture cracked a smile. “And they say God is all-wise.”

“Wiser than you and me, that’s for sure.”

Venture knew better than to argue about that, however uncertain he felt at the moment about the truths he’d been taught. Besides, one thought continued to push itself in front of all the others in his head—
What am I going to say to Jade? How can breaking her heart be the right thing? How can it be honorable?

Venture and Able arrived just in time to wash up for dinner. The other servants trickled in, and soon the table was crowded with food and covered over with a tangled web of laughter and conversation.

Nine-year-old Bounty, who lived in the Big House’s servants’ quarters with his father, a free servant, cocked his white-blond head at Venture. “You haven’t said anything about your training, Vent. You get kicked out already?”
 

“Bountiful Baker!” old Herald said. “Where are your manners?” But everyone knew there would be no consequences for Bounty, the youngest of Herald’s children, born to his late wife so late in life.

The others had taken notice of this scrap of conversation, and apparently found it more interesting than their own talk, for they stopped, waiting for his reply.

“I’m doing just fine. Pass the potatoes please, Connie?”

“Master’s anxious to know how you’re doing, Vent,” said Connie, Mrs. Bright’s sixteen-year-old niece. “Almost went to see you himself.”

“That would teach you to be so uppity, wouldn’t it? To have your master come see you train.” Bounty laughed. “I wonder what all those guys would think of you then?”

For that, Mrs. Bright knocked him on the back of the head and reached for his plate in a threatening way. “You keep that up, Bounty, and one of these days when you’re old enough for it to be proper, Vent’s going give you a beating like you’ve never seen! Goodness knows nobody else is giving you what you deserve.” She glared at Herald, who averted his eyes.

“I don’t pretend not to be a servant when I leave this house,” said Venture hotly.

“Bounty, you little fool. Why should Vent care what those boys think of him, as long as they know he’s better than them on the mat? And I’ll bet they all do by now,” Able said.

Venture ducked his head to hide his smile. That was the truth, mostly. He was a better fighter than any boy his age, and just as good as many of the older ones, though he wouldn’t have said so himself. But now that they’d moved on to more intense training without him, now that he’d be busy learning to wield a sword and throw a knife instead, how long would that last? The only hand-to-hand fighting he’d be practicing now would be for the rare chance that he lost his weapons during a confrontation. And Earnest had told him that if that ever happened, then that meant he’d really screwed up.

Venture dug into his potatoes and tried not to think about how Lance and Colt and Nick and the other elites had emerged from their training room at the end of the day, completely drenched in sweat. Exhausted in that satisfying way that he’d probably never feel again.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Summer’s Third Month, 655 After the Founding

Venture grasped the freshly split pine with his sweaty hands and tossed it off the chopping block. He placed another sticky hunk on the block. His back ached. His arms ached. He was used to aching. The blisters on his hands, though, those he hadn’t had in a while. He’d been wielding hammer and ax in the hot summer sun twice as much as usual for a week now, and his skin, though tough, had reached its breaking point, splitting along with the latest log.

Grant’s newest dog, a fine Illesian retriever given to him by a silk merchant of that country to sweeten their latest business deal, rose from the shade of a nearby tree to dance in a circle and paw at his feet. Still half a pup, Lightning was sweet, but sticky, too, like a drizzle of honey. She stuck by Venture all day, trailing him, begging him to play. He shook his head at her and pointed back to the tree. She obeyed, and he picked up the ax and prepared to swing it, but put it right down again. His hands were too slippery with sweat and the bloody ooze of his broken blisters; so was the ax.

He wiped his messy palms and the ax handle on his pants, then leaned over, peeled the end of his shirt from his body, and brought it to his dripping face. It was too sweat-soaked to do any good. He let go of his shirt and raised his head, and he saw her—Jade—one slender hand on her hip, the other dangling a towel in front of him.
 

“Miss Fieldstone,” he managed to say, though he bowed his head just as much to avoid looking at her as to give a gesture of respect.
 

“Here.” She nudged the towel at him, for he still hadn’t taken it.
 

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Will you stop that?”

“Miss?” he said, as if he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“That! Stop that
Miss
nonsense. It’s ridiculous.”

“I beg your pardon, Miss.”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Jadie, shh!” Her voice was rising, the way it always did when she got all riled up.

Jade smiled triumphantly. Venture’s shoulders sagged as he realized what he’d just done. He’d called her by her first name only. Worse, her nickname. He’d been trying to do what Justice had told him to do for months. To treat her like his mistress. The very next day after Justice had spoken to him about it, Jade had asked Venture to go riding with her, and he’d crushed her by telling her he didn’t think it was a good idea for them to do those kinds of things anymore.

“Miss,” he corrected himself, “You’re a young lady, and my mistress.”

“There’s no one here. You could call me Jadie if you wanted to.”

“No, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“It’s not right for you to call me anything else!”

The afternoon sun sparkled on the sweat droplets that speckled her nose. A few curls had escaped her clip and clung to her sticky forehead. As usual, she was barefoot, even on the carpet of wood chips around the chopping block. Tomorrow, she’d be fourteen. Rose’s long battle with Grant about her upbringing had been settled; at fourteen, she’d have to quit going to Beamer’s and start acting like a young lady. Soon enough she’d be in silk slippers and matching dresses, shut away in her sitting room with embroidery in her lap. Soon enough she wouldn’t be the Jade he knew anyway.

He buried his head in the towel and massaged the sweat off so he wouldn’t have to look at her and imagine the Jade-who-wasn’t-Jade anymore.

“Venture! Your hands!” She yanked them from the towel and let it drop into the dust.

“What?”

She held one of his hands in each of hers and turned them over, gaping at the enflamed splinters and the nasty, open blisters.
 

“They’re covered with blood!”

“Nothing is covered with blood. It’s just a few smudges.”

“You are bleeding!” she reiterated, and the dog joined her, running over and whining anxiously at her side.

“Miss, it’s all right. It’s just some blisters. They’ll go away.”

“Sir, it is not! How can he treat you like this? Now that you’re big enough and strong enough to be of more use, he thinks he can treat you like a beast of burden!”

She was impossible. Grant had provided him with an education, and now with training for a career as a guard, all during the hours a servant ought to have been working for his master. Venture was determined to serve him well whenever he could.

“Able’s sick. You know that. Herald is in town with your father. Someone has to chop the wood. I don’t have a problem with doing my job, so why should you?”

Jade’s eyes blazed green fury at him. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. The look threatened him to apologize or else. He’d endured it many times in the past, but this time it elicited a different response.