before Rillen approached her with his shark smile, and it was enough to make the itch in his chest seem about to leap out and scratch at his face.
* * *
Rillen bowed over Josie’s hand, but she whipped it away, playing the part of outrage to perfection.
“You knew who he was?” Her voice was sharp but he didn’t miss the pulse throbbing at her throat.
Too many eyes were prying, too many ears flapping out here in the atrium. Time for the rest of it. “Lord Brimeld, I think your wife needs to recover from her shock. If you like, I’ll escort you both somewhere more private.”
“Brimeld” hesitated, waited for an almost imperceptible nod from Josie, and accepted Rillen’s offer.
Rillen laid a hand on Josie’s back and steered her to a private room. She was tense under his fingers, maybe nervous or maybe not, if her reputation was anything to go by. Oh, but you should be. He showed her in, Skrymir bringing up the rear all full of bluster, and made sure the door locked behind him.
“I don’t think you’ve met Lady Laceflower, have you? Laceflower, my love, this is Lady Amana and Lord Brimeld.”
Not a flicker of recognition from Josie at seeing her. Laceflower smiled and said a quiet greeting, which Josie returned with barely a glance. Had they never met? Then why did his lovely Laceflower want her to suffer so? Mysterious.
“My dear Lady Amana, Lord Brimeld, I’m so shocked at Van Gast inveigling his way into your trust so. I do apologize for not apprehending him sooner, but I had to be sure. Here, allow me to pour you a drink, my lady. You look rather shaken.”
She sipped at the brandy he poured for her, and truthfully she did look shaken. The brandy trembled in the glass. It took her a few moments, with a delicate crease on her forehead as she thought, but she soon recovered well enough.
Come on, Josie, tell me the rest of it. What are you planning? Where do you want to get to? I think I know, but out with it.
“I feel so ashamed, Rillen. Everything is so different here, and, well, we have nothing like racks at home. As I said before, the Gan are all about honor and trust. We trusted Mr.—sorry. What did you say his name was?”
“Van Gast, and no shame. You’re not the first to succumb to one of his cons.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Nor the first wife to be seduced by his other charms.” She actually blushed at that. “Laceflower, my love, would you go see about finding a new trading partner for our guests?”
Laceflower left with a sly, hate-filled glance at Josie’s back.
“I can’t concentrate on trading partners now.” Skrymir looked flushed, affronted and likely to lay about with his sword. A perfect display of the cuckold. “That—that wretch laid hands on my wife.” He moved over to where Josie sat with her head down, as though ashamed, and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, whispered something to her. Maybe pretending to soothe her.
At last, he stood up straight and looked Rillen square in the eye. “If we’re to trade, Rillen, first we need to know you’ve dealt with this in a way I can approve. I want that sod’s head on a stick!”
“Oh, we’ll do better than that, my lord. Much better, and more painful.”
Skrymir blinked in surprise but blustered on. “I want to see him in his cell. We both do. I know Estovan doesn’t see these things as we do, I can see that in every street, a brothel on every corner. My poor wife, to be confronted with that at every turn, and now this!” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I mean, in Ganheim it’s discreet, you see? My wife—sheltered, very sheltered, and this could quite ruin her. I need to know you take this as seriously as I do.”
Oh, so that was it. Van Gast down there, and then these two as well. They were after the strong room, as he’d thought. Clever. “My Lord Brimeld, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to escort you to the cells and Van Gast myself.”
Chapter Fourteen
Holden paced the deck, unable to settle to anything. The sun had just set in a maze of silver spinners across the myriad waterways and rivulets of the delta. Gloom crept up on him, growing to inky shadows beneath the ships at berth, gathering among the buildings like hired thugs. Without order,