Miles in Love - Lois McMaster Bujold [446]
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-cochère 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 slip-up 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 the fact that the large bag of most remarkable incendiary goodies had been slipped to Nikki by the Count.
* * *
The party wound down. Sleepy, protesting children were carried past Roic to their cars or to their beds. The Emperor and Empress were seen out fondly by the Count and Countess; soon after their departure, a score of unobtrusive, efficient servants, on loan from ImpSec, vanished quietly and without fanfare. The remaining energetic young people hijacked the ballroom to dance to music more to their taste. Their tired elders found quieter corners in the succession of public rooms in which to converse and sample more of the Count's very best wines.
Roic found Taura sitting alone in one of the small side rooms on a sturdy-looking sofa of the style she favored, reflectively working her way through a platter of Ma Kosti's dainties on a low table before her. She looked drowsy and contented, and yet little apart from it all. As if she were a guest in her own life . . .
Roic gave her a smile, a nod, a semi-salute. He wished he'd thought to provide himself with roses or something. What could a fellow give to a woman like this? The finest chocolate, maybe, yeah, although that was redundant at the moment. Tomorrow for sure. "Um . . . have you had a good time?"
"Oh, yes. Wonderful."
She sat back and smiled almost up at him—an unusual angle of view. She looked good from this direction too. M'lord's comment about horizontal height differentials drifted through his memory. She patted the sofa beside her; Roic glanced around, overcame his guard-stance habits, and sat down. His feet hurt, he realized.
The silence that fell was companionable, not strained, but after a time he broke it. "You like Barrayar, then?"
"It's been a great visit. Better than my best dreams."
Ten