Fairs' Point by Melissa Scott Read Free Book Online

maintenance herself, I suppose? Him being so sweet-spoken.”
    “ No, he just worked for her,” Besetje said. “So he says as well as her, and I believe him.” She shook her head. “And in a better year, I could keep him better, but my money is tied up in the dogs right now.”
    “ And will be until after the races.”
    “ Exactly.” Besetje looked gratified that he’d understood.
    “ And Faar can’t wait, what, a month?” There were reasons a cripple might not be able to wait.
    “ He says dogs lose,” Besetje answered, with a wry smile. “And of course they do. Though I’ve not put in more than I can afford to lose, but I wasn’t expecting to have to keep him, either.”
    “ You’re not still with Neylen, then,” Rathe said.
    Besetje shook her head. “Hare and Hounds, he retired three years ago. I’m assistant to DeVoss, her senior, and she’s let me take a dog or two on my own account.”
    She sounded proud of herself, and well she might: to have gone from the least-regarded of the horde of Quentier chi ldren to Maewes DeVoss’s right hand was indeed an accomplishment. With DeVoss encouraging her to begin setting up her own kennel, it was likely Besetje would become a person to reckon with among that sorority.
    “ But that’s not really the problem,” Besetje said. “Dad needs money, well enough, but he’s asked the family to get involved. And it’s his right—since Mother married him, they’re responsible, too.”
    “ Estel agreed to let you go,” Rathe said. “And she’s not one to go back on her word.”
    Besetje nodded. “But Aunt Idomey would like a bigger piece of the business, and she thinks she can get it by making Aunt Estel look bad. Or by making her eat her word in public.”
    For a craven moment, Rathe was glad he was assigned to Dreams: a quarrel among Quentier factions would keep both Hopes and Sighs on the hop for months. “So what do you want from me?”
    “ You stood patron to me before,” Besetje answered. “Would you do it again? Dealing with Aunt Estel always makes me stupid.”
    “ It’s not an uncommon feeling,” Rathe said. “But, Besetje, last time—Estel agreed to it in advance because I had something useful to say, remember? I could tell them how easy you were to catch.”
    Besetje nodded. “And LaSier got her astrologer to prove I couldn’t do it. I do remember.”
    “ But Estel agreed to it first,” Rathe said, patiently. “She wouldn’t like me just showing up at your side, Besetje.”
    “ No, that’s true.” Besetje stopped, shaking her head. “And I forgot the important thing. I have a note for you.” She reached into her skirts, came out with a folded slip of paper, and slid it across the table. Rathe took it, recognizing Estel’s thumbprint in the wax that sealed it.
    “ You could have given me this first,” he said, and Besetje ducked her head.
    “ I should have, shouldn’t I? I didn’t think.”
    And that was how she’d always been, and there was no point in scolding. Rathe broke the seal and studied the single scrawled line . If Besetje wishes it, you may come . It was signed with Estel’s complex monogram, and he sighed. “Can I keep this?”
    “ I think you’d better,” Besetje answered. “I might forget again.”
    “ When do you meet?”
    “ It’s not set yet. But it’ll be after first sunset, for my sake.”
    “ If you want me to be there, you’ll need to give me the time in advance,” Rathe said. “At least by that morning.”
    Besetje pushed back her chair. “I will. Or Estel will. I’ll tell her you’re coming.”
    “ That would be helpful,” Rathe said, but she was already out the door. He sighed. He hated having private favors on his books, even when it was someone like Besetje, who deserved the help. And dealing with the Quentiers could be construed as poaching on Hopes or Sighs—though if he spoke to Monteia first, she’d probably give him sanction. He added that to his mental list of the