her to see my face. A child? She wanted a child? Why tell me? I'd thought of a lot of things Maeve Reed could want; a baby had not been on the list.
I finally looked at her. "What would you have of me, Maeve?" That was the question.
She sat back in her chair, settling with a small wriggling movement that reminded me of her old teasing. "I have told you what I would have of you, Meredith."
I stared at her, frowning. "I know what you said, Maeve, but I don't see ..." I tried again. "I don't know how I can help you." I put a little emphasis on the I because I had thought of one thing I had that she might need. I had the men.
She looked around at the men, all the men, her bodyguards included. "You can understand now why I would want privacy for this discussion, can't you?" There was a small thread of pleading in her voice.
I sighed. I wanted to be politically savvy. I wanted to be cautious. But I did understand why she desired privacy. Some things supersede politics, your side, my side, and one of those is the plea of woman-to-woman. Maeve had given that plea, silently, but it was still there. Mother help me, but I couldn't pretend ignorance.
"All right," I said.
Maeve put her head to one side. "All right to what?"
"Privacy."
I felt both Doyle and Frost move behind me. They didn't truly move, not a step, but they tensed so hard it was almost a jump.
"Princess," Doyle began.
"It's all right, Doyle. You and the rest of the men can sit under the umbrella while we have our girl talk."
Maeve frowned, her pale pink lipsticked mouth pouting prettily. She was definitely regaining her composure. Or maybe she'd spent so many years as Maeve Reed, sex goddess, that she didn't know how else to behave.
"I was hoping for a little more privacy than a few yards."
I smiled at her, no pouting, no pretense. "You've shown that you're willing to persuade me with magic. It would be stupid of me to trust you completely."
The pout vanished, replaced by thin, almost angry lips. "You've proven you can best me at magic, Meredith. I am not so stupid as to try my luck for a second time."
Again, I was pretty certain that I had not bested Maeve at magic. It was more that she'd thrown her magic in my metaphysical face and my natural abilities had been awakened. It hadn't been deliberate on my part; in fact, I wasn't 100 percent certain that I could have duplicated it if I'd tried. But Maeve believed that I could do it at will, and I wasn't going to dissuade her. Let her believe that I was wonderfully powerful, and paranoid. Because I wasn't going anywhere completely out of sight of the men. Powerful and paranoid -- it was a recipe for royalty.
"My guards can sit in the shade while we talk out here. That is as much privacy as I'm willing to give you, even for girl talk."
"You don't trust me," she said.
"Why should I?"
She smiled. "You shouldn't. You most certainly shouldn't." She shook her head and sipped her rum, then gazed at me over the rim of her glass. "You've refused all refreshment. You fear poison or magic."
I nodded.
She laughed, a delighted burst of sound. I'd heard that selfsame laugh on the movie screen more than once. "I give you my most solemn oath nothing here shall harm you a-purpose."
Adding that last bit was nicely tricky. It meant that if I did come to harm, it wouldn't be her fault, but it also meant that I could come to harm. I had to smile. Such double-talk was so much a part of the court, where your word of honor was something you'd fight to the death to defend.
"I want your word of honor that no thing, no person, no animal, no being of any kind will harm me while I am here."
The pout was back. "Now, Meredith. Such a solemn oath? I will give my word to protect your safety to the best of my ability."
I shook my head. "Your word that no thing, no person, no animal, no being of any kind will harm me."
"While you are here," she added.
I nodded. "While I am here."
"If you had left that last little bit off, I'd have been responsible for you always, everywhere you go." She shivered, and I don't think it was pretense. "You go