A Brother's Price

asked as Raven followed her out into the hall.
    “Not yet, but Jerin gave me an interesting idea. So far the thieves have killed everyone that might be witness to them, including that cruelty to Egan Wainwright. I have my staff checking to see if any ship on our list recently had part or all of its crew killed off. I should have a report by tomorrow.”
    “Jerin?”
    “He’s a man of surprising intelligence.”
     
    A Barnes sister directed Ren to the blue salon, where she found her in-laws, the ladies of Avonar, and her mothers gathered. Her youngest sisters still hadn’t graduated to formal dining parties. Odelia was late, as usual. Trini was absent and sent a sketchy apology, complaining of a migraine; truth was, she refused to deal with their in-laws. Lylia, Ren was informed, had gone to escort their cousins, the Moorlands, upriver. The Whistlers were the only ones unaccounted for.
    Ren poured herself a brandy and then sought Barnes out.
    “The tailors only finished altering the premade clothes a short while ago,” Barnes said in reply to her questioning. “A youngest sister will be guiding them down as soon as they are dressed.”
    As Barnes bowed off, Kij Porter drifted to Ren’s side. “Did I hear Barnes mention newly arrived palace houseguests? Who rates that special honor? Your cousins?”
    Ren covered her wince by taking a sip of her brandy; the Porters were not the ones she would have chosen as first contact for Jerin’s family. As close a friend as Kij was, “pompous ass” still defined the Porter family as a whole. Families of old blood tended to be that way, due, perhaps, to inbreeding. She suspected that the Porters were among the worst because, along with their name, thev retained the taint of common blood. “The Whis-tiers. They’re the ones that saved Odelia from drowning upland. My mothers are sponsoring their brother this season.”
    Kij made the polite noise of understanding. “A charity case?”
    I’m going to marry him . Ren restrained the impulse to say it aloud: she didn’t want Jerin hurt if she couldn’t clear all the hurdles between them. She nodded slightly, giving a tight smile over the rim of her glass.
    “How very kind of your—” Kij paused, her eyes focusing over Ren’s shoulder. “Well, I see that the task will not be an odious one.”
    Jerin ! Ren turned, locking down on a smile that wanted to blaze across her face. At the sight of him, only that control kept her jaw from clicking open. They had swathed him in layers of silk: a short-sleeved under-tunic of deep blue that showed off his tanned, muscular forearms; fashionably snug britches of the same shade; and a richly embroidered waistcoat that came to mid-thigh to make the britches more modest, and yet accentuated his wide shoulders. His silken raven hair was gathered into graceful falls and small loose braids woven through with ribbons.
    His sisters wore deep blue, high-collared silk shirts, and black silk dining jackets and slacks. Clean, carefully groomed, and formally dressed, the women were nearly as striking as Jerin. Eldest Whistler led, Jerin on her arm, the younger sisters trailing behind in flanking positions. The Whistler family entered the room with the feral grace of hunting wolves.
    “They don’t look like farmers to me,” Kij murmured as Eldest correctly approached Queen Mother Elder first to pay respects.
    “Their grandmothers were knights,” Ren told her simply. The less said about what else the Whistlers’ grandmothers had been, the better. “The title reverted after their deaths, of course, but the family remains gentry.”
    •‘Just barely,“ Kij murmured. ”Too bad—he’s quite pretty. I’m sure someone who doesn’t mind adding a little common stock into the line will be quick to snap him up.“
    Pompous ass.
    Ren knew that the Whistlers had never been before royalty, and doubted that they had ever been to a formal dinner, yet she watched with awe as they greeted each of her mothers with regal calm. After bowing to Ren’s youngest mother, Milain. the Whistler party turned, and Jerin saw her for the first time. His smile was warm, shy—and stunning as a blow from a giant mallet.
    Kij drifted off, no doubt to warn her sisters that the pretty stranger wasn’t up to the Porter level of breeding. Ren crossed to the Whistlers. Her mothers, bless them all, hung back so she had their visitors to herself.
    “Whistler.” She nodded to Eldest. There was a dark look that