Miles in Love - Lois McMaster Bujold [399]
Sigur did better than Richars's debacle, but not quite good enough; René's count hit thirty-one at almost the very end of the call. There it stood. Gregor abstained, having a deliberately null effect on the outcome. Count Vormoncrief rather perfunctorily called his appeal, and to no one's wonder, Gregor declined to hear it. Vormoncrief and a surprisingly relieved-looking Sigur rose to a much better showing in defeat than Richars had, going up to shake René's hand. René took the Circle again to briefly thank his colleagues, and returned it to the Lord Guardian. The Lord Guardian tapped his spear on the plank, and declared the session closed. Chamber and gallery broke into a swirl of motion and noise.
Miles restrained himself from leaping across tables and chairs and over the backs of his crowd of colleagues to get up to the gallery only because the family party there rose themselves, and began to make their way up the stairs toward the back doors. Surely his mother and father could be relied upon to pilot Ekaterin down here to him? He found himself trapped anyway in a crowd of Counts offering him a barrage of congratulations, comments, and jokes. He barely heard, processing them all with an automatic Thank you . . . thank you, occasionally entirely at odds with what had actually been said to him.
At last, he heard his father call his name. Miles's head snapped around; such was the Viceroy's aura that the crowd seemed to melt away between them. Ekaterin peered shyly into the mob of uniformed men from between her formidable outriders. Miles strode over to her, and gripped her hands painfully hard, searching her face, Is it true, is it real?
She grinned back, idiotically, beautifully, Yes, oh, yes.
"You want a leg up?" Ivan offered him.
"Shut up, Ivan," Miles said over his shoulder. He glanced around at the nearest bench. "D'you mind?" he whispered to her.
"I believe it is customary . . ."
His grin broadened, and he jumped up on it, wrapped her in his arms, and gave her a blatantly possessive kiss. She embraced him back, just as hard, shaking a little.
"Mine to me. Yes," she whispered fiercely in his ear.
He hopped back down, but did not release her hand.
Nikki, almost eye to eye with him, stared at Miles measuringly. "You are going to make my mama happy, aren't you?"
"I'll surely try, Nikki." He returned Nikki a serious nod, with all his heart. Gravely, Nikki nodded back, as if to say, It's a deal.
Olivia, Tatya, and René's sister arrived, fighting their way through the departing crowd, to pounce on René and Dono. Panting in their wake came a man in Count's livery of carmine and green. He stopped short and stared around the chamber in dismay, and moaned, "Too late!"
"Who's that?" Ekaterin whispered to Miles.
"Count Vormuir. He seems to have missed the session."
Count Vormuir staggered off toward his desk on the far side of the chamber. Count Dono watched him go by with a little smile.
Ivan drifted up to Dono, and said in an undervoice, "All right, I have to know. How'd you sidetrack Vormuir?"
"I? I had nothing to do with it. However, if you must know, I believe he spent the morning having a reconciliation with his Countess."
"All morning? At his age?"
"Well, she had some assistance from a nice little Betan aphrodisiac. I believe it can extend a man's attention span for hours. No nasty side effects, either. Now you're getting older, Ivan, you might wish to check it out."
"Got any more?"
"Not I. Talk with Helga Vormuir."
Miles turned to Hugo and Vassily, his smile stiffening just a shade. Ekaterin gripped his hand harder, and he returned a reassuring squeeze. "Good morning, gentlemen. I'm glad you could make this historic Council session. Would you be pleased to join us all for lunch at Vorkosigan House? I feel sure we have some matters to discuss more privately."
Vassily seemed well on his way to permanently stunned, but he managed a nod and a mumbled thank you. Hugo