‘Extraordinary,’ Hest muttered. He sat very still, holding the scroll out to her. Alise discovered that her hands were gripping one another tightly. After a moment he said, ‘Don’t you want to look at it?’
She drew a ragged breath. ‘I know how much a scroll like that is worth; I know how much you must have paid for it.’ She swallowed. ‘I can’t accept such an expensive gift. It’s not … that is …’
‘It wouldn’t be proper. Unless we were engaged.’ His voice had gone very deep. Was it a plea or a taunt?
‘I don’t understand why you court me!’ she burst out suddenly. ‘I’m not pretty. My family is not wealthy or powerful. My dowry is pitiful. I’m not even young. I’m past twenty! And you, you have everything, you are handsome, wealthy, intelligent, charming … why are you doing this? Why do you court me?’
He had drawn back from her a little bit, but he didn’t seem flustered. On the contrary, a small smile bent his mouth.
‘Do you think this is funny? Is it some sort of joke, some wager, perhaps?’ she demanded wildly.
At those words, the smile fled his face. He rose abruptly, the scroll still clasped in his hand. ‘Alise, that is … beyond insult! That you could accuse me of such a thing! Is that what you truly think of me?’
‘I don’t know what to think of you!’ she responded. Her heart was beating somewhere in her throat. ‘I don’t know why you asked me to dance that first time. I don’t know why you court me. I fear it can only end in disappointment and, and humiliation when you finally realize I am unsuitable and walk away from me. I had become accustomed to the idea that I would never wed. I had found a new purpose for my life. And now I fear that I will lose both my resignation to my spinsterhood and my opportunity to be something besides a withered old maid in the back rooms of my brother’s house.’
Hest slowly sank back into his seat. He held the precious scroll loosely in his hands as if he had forgotten it, or at least forgotten how valuable an object it was. She tried not to stare at it. When he spoke, his words came slowly. ‘Again, Alise, you make me see I have been unfair to you. Truly, you are no ordinary woman.’ He paused and it seemed to Alise that it was a century before he spoke again. ‘I could lie to you now. I could flatter you with sweet words and pretend to be infatuated with you. But I perceive now that you would soon see through such a ruse, and would disdain me all the more for attempting it.’ He folded his lips for a long moment before he spoke again.
‘Alise, you say you are not young. Neither am I. I am five years older than you are. I am, as you bluntly say, wealthy. The war has greatly affected our fortune, to be sure, as it has the fortune of every Bingtown Trader. And yet, as our trading has been diverse as are our holdings, we have been less damaged than many. I trust that we shall weather this war and emerge as a powerful family in the new Bingtown. And when my father dies, I will be the Trader for my family. I have been blessed, or sometimes I think, cursed, with a pleasing appearance. I have schooled myself to a charming manner, for we know that honey sweetens a bargain more than vinegar. I appear a social, convivial man, for that best suits the business I must do. Yet I do not think you will be surprised if I tell you that there is another Hest, a private and restrained one who, like you, enjoys being left in peace to pursue his own interests.
‘I will tell you plainly that for several years now, my parents have been urging me to wed. I spent my youth in being educated and in travelling, the better to understand my father’s trading partners. Balls and festivals and indeed,’ he gestured at the tray and cups, ‘polite tea parties bore me. And yet, according to my parents, I must court and wed a woman if I am to have children to follow me. I must have a wife who will keep track of our social duties, entertain lavishly when it is required, and move easily within Bingtown society. In short, I must marry a woman who is Trader born and raised. I admit that I would enjoy a quiet home of my own, and undemanding companionship from a woman who respected my foibles. So, when my parents told me, quite seriously, that I must either wed or begin to train my cousin to be my heir, I sighed at first. Then I looked about for a woman who would be calm, sensible and able to be independent of me for her own amusements. I needed someone capable of running my household without my constant attention. A woman who would not feel neglected if left alone for an evening, or even for months when business forces me to travel. You were suggested to me by one of my friends who had, indeed, heard of your interest in dragons and Elderlings. I believe you rather boldly went to his family home to borrow scrolls from his father’s library. He was very impressed with your forthrightness and your scholarship.’
His words froze her. She suddenly knew who had recommended her to him. Sedric Meldar, Sophie’s brother. He had been the one to help her find the scrolls in his father’s study on the day she had borrowed them. She had always felt friendly toward Sedric; she’d even been infatuated with him when she was a girl. Yet it still shocked her to think he had urged his friend to consider her as a bride. Unaware of her confusion, Hest continued his tale.
‘So, when I was lamenting my situation, he told me that I should find no better bride than a woman who already had a life and an interest of her own. And so I have found you to be. Indeed, you have such a life and interest of your own that I begin to wonder if a husband is something you could fit into your schedule.’ He suddenly lifted his dark gaze to her. Did a spark of amusement twinkle in those depths?
‘This is not a romantic proposal, Alise. I suspect that you deserve far better than I am offering you. Yet, bluntly speaking, I do not think you will be offered better. I am a wealthy man. I am intelligent, well mannered, and I think myself kind. I think we shall get on well enough, me with my business and you with your scholarly pursuits. In fact, I think that after we are wed, we shall both be greatly relieved to leave behind the nagging of our parents. So. Can you give me an answer today, Alise? Will you marry me?’
He paused. She could find no breath to answer his outrageous proposal. He thought, perhaps, that she hesitated. He repeated what, to another woman, might have seemed insult most foul, but to her was simply an acknowledgment of their positions. ‘I do not think you will get a better offer. I am rich. Servants will do all the drudgery. You may hire whatever house-keepers and butlers you wish. Hire a secretary and a cook to plan our dinners and entertainments. Whatever staff you need to preserve our façade, you shall have. You will have not only the time to pursue your studies, but an income sufficient to acquire the scrolls and books you require. And if you must travel to follow your studies, I will provide you with the proper companionship to allow you to do so. I do, sincerely, regret that I have made you lose the opportunity to see the dragons hatch. I promise you that, if you accept my proposal, you will be allowed to journey up the Rain Wild River and take whatever time you think you need to study the creatures for yourself. Come now. You cannot hope for a better bargain than that!’
Alise spoke slowly. ‘You would buy me, in the hopes of a simpler life for yourself. You would buy me, with scrolls and time for scholarship.’
‘You put it a bit crudely but—’
‘I accept,’ she said quickly. She held out her hand to him, thinking perhaps he would lift it to his lips and kiss it. Thinking, perhaps, he might even draw her into an embrace. Instead, he took it with a smile, shook it firmly as if they were two men sealing an agreement, and then turned it palm up. He set the treasured scroll into it. It was heavy, preserved by oil rubbed into it perhaps. The smell of its secrets rose to entice her. She hastily raised her other hand to cradle the precious thing. Hest was speaking, his deep voice rich with satisfaction.
‘With your permission, I will announce our nuptials at the Summer Ball. After, of course, I have begged your father’s leave.’
‘I scarcely think you will have to beg it,’ she murmured. She clasped the scroll to her breast as if it were her first born, and wondered what she had agreed to do.
The heels of Hest’s boots clacked sharply against each stone step as he descended from the entry of the Kincarrons’ modest manor house. Sedric straightened up from where he had been lounging against the tall red wheel of the pony trap. He brushed his brown hair back from his eyes and smiled as his tall friend approached. The broad grin on