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gawp at her . . .
Martya Koudelka passed him in the entryway, where he'd temporarily taken up
guard stance, and smiled cheerily at him.
 Hi, Roic.
He nodded.  Miss Martya.
She followed his glance to the head table.  Taura looks wonderful, doesn't
she?
 Sure does. He hesitated.
 How come you're not up there?
Her voice lowered.  I heard the story about last night from
Ekaterin. She asked me if I'd mind trading. I said, God, no.
Gets me out of having to sit there and make small talk with Ivan, for one
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thing. She wrinkled her nose.
 It was well thought of, of m'lady.
She hitched up one shoulder.
 It was the one honor here that was wholly hers to bestow. The
Vorkosigans are amazing, but you have to admit, they do eat you up.
They give you a wild ride in return, though. She stood on tiptoe and planted
an unexpected
kiss on Roic's cheek.
He touched the spot in surprise.  What's that for?
 For your half of last night.
For saving us all from having to live with a really insane Miles
Vorkosigan. As long as he lasted.
A brief quaver shook her flippant voice. She tossed her blond hair and bounced
off.
The toasts were made with the count's very best wines, including a few
historical bottles, reserved for the head table, that had been laid down
before the end of the
Time of Isolation. Afterward the party moved to the brilliant ballroom,
seeming another garden, heady with the scent of a sudden
spring. Lord and Lady Vorkosigan opened the dancing. Those who could still
move after the dinner followed them onto the polished marquetry floor.
Roic found himself, all too briefly, passing by Taura as she watched the
dancers sway and twirl.
 Do you dance, Roic? she asked him.
 Can't. I'm on duty. You?
 I'm afraid I don't know any of these dances. Although, I'm sure Miles would
have foisted an instructor on me if he'd thought of it.
 Actually, he admitted in a lower voice,  I don't know how
either.
Her lips curled up.  Well, don't let Miles know if you want it to stay that
way. He'd have you out there thumping around before you knew what hit you.
He tried not to snicker. He hardly knew what to say to this, but his parting
half-salute did not betoken disagreement.
On the sixth number, m'lady danced past Roic with her eldest brother, Hugo.
 Splendid necklace, Kat.
From your spouse, is it?
 No, actually. From one of his
. . . business associates.
 Expensive!
 Yes. M'lady's faint smile made the hairs stir on Roic's arms.
 I expect it to cost him everything he has.
They spun away.
Taura nailed it. She'll do for m'lord, all right. And God help their enemies.
Promptly on schedule, the aircar was brought round for the bridal couple's
getaway. The night was still fairly young, but it was more than an hour's
flight to
Vorkosigan Surleau and the lakeside estate that was to be the honeymoon
refuge. The place would be quiet this time of year, blanketed with snow and
peace.
Roic could not imagine two people
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more in need of a little peace.
The guests in residence were to be left behind under the care of the count and
countess for a few days, although the galactic guests would travel down to the
lake later. Among other things, Roic was given to understand, Madame
Bothari-Jesek wished to visit her father's grave there with her husband and
new daughter and burn a death offering.
Roic had thought Pym would be doing the flying, but to his surprise, Armsman
Jankowski took the controls as the newlyweds ran the gauntlet of raucous
family and friends and made it to the rear compartment.
 I've shuffled some assignments, Pym murmured to
Roic as they both stood smiling in the porte cochere to watch and salute.
M'lord and m'lady seemed to melt into each other's arms in an equal mix of
love and exhaustion as the silvered canopy finally closed over them.  I'm
taking night watch in Vorkosigan
House for the next week.
You have the week off with double holiday pay. With m'lady's own thanks.
 Oh, said Roic. He blinked.
Pym had been quite frustrated by the fact that no one, from the count down,
had seen fit to censure him for the slipup with the necklace. He could only
conclude that Pym had given up
and decided to supply his own penance. Well, if the senior armsman looked to
be carrying it too far, the countess could be relied upon to step in.
 Thanks!
 You can consider yourself free from whenever Count and
Countess Vorbarra leave. Pym nodded and stepped back as the aircar eased out
from under the overhang and began to rise into the cold night air as if buoyed
up by the yells and cheers of the well-wishers.
A splendid and prolonged burst of fireworks made the send-off a thing of
beauty and a joy to Barrayaran hearts. Taura applauded and hooted, too, and,
along with Arde Mayhew, joined
Nikki's cohort for some added, unscheduled crackers and sparklers in the back
garden.
Powder smoke perfumed the air in clouds as the children ran around
Taura, urging her to throw the lights higher.
Security and an assortment of mothers might have quashed the game, except for [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]