Looking back, he could see now the clues he should have seen long before, the similarities in nervous gesture between her and Kirin, her overwrought reaction when he had tried to talk about her mother, all the little inconsistencies, the too-pat connections. What an idiot he had been!
‘Poor Adam.’ She walked over to him, stroked his hair. ‘You expect the world to be so simple, and it is . . . just not in the way you want it to be.’
Her smell of heated oranges aroused him, and he pulled her onto his lap, both angry and lustful. With half his mind he tried to reject her, because to want her would ratify all the duplicity in which he had played a part and further weaken his fraying moral fiber; but the stronger half needed her, and he kissed her mouth, tasting the smoky sweetness of the opium. His lips moved along the curve of her neck to the slopes of her breasts. She responded sluggishly at first, then with abandon, whispering, ‘I’ve missed you so much, I love you, I really do,’ and it seemed she was as she once had been, open and giving and soft. It startled him to see this, to realize that the vulnerability underlying her dissipation was no act, for he had come to doubt everything about her. He kissed her mouth again, and he might have taken her then and there, but a man’s voice interrupted them, saying, ‘I wish you’d be more discreet, darling.’
Korrogly jumped up, dumping Mirielle onto the floor.
Lemos was standing in the doorway, a smile touching the corners of his lips. He looked prosperous, content, a far cry from the gray failure whom Korrogly had defended. His clothes were expensive, rings adorned his hands, and there was about him such an air of health and well-being, it seemed an obscenity, like the ruddy complexion of a sated vampire. Mirielle scrambled up and went to him; he draped an arm about her shoulders.
‘I’m surprised to find you here, Mister Korrogly,’ said Lemos. ‘But I don’t suppose I should be. My daughter is alluring, is she not?’
‘I told him, Daddy,’ Mirielle said in a sugary, babyish voice. ‘About Mardo.’
‘Did you now?’
To his horror, Korrogly saw that Lemos was fondling his daughter’s breast beneath the beige silk; she arched her back to meet the pressure of his hand, but he thought he detected tension in her expression.
Lemos, apparently registering Korrogly’s revulsion, said, ‘But you didn’t tell him everything, did you?’
‘Not about Mama. He thinks . . .’
‘I can imagine what he thinks.’
Lemos’ smile was unwavering, but behind it, in those gray eyes, was something cold and implacable that made Korrogly afraid.
‘You look disturbed,’ Lemos said. ‘Surely a man of your experience can imagine how love might spring up between a man and his daughter. It’s frowned upon, true. But society’s condemnation of such a relationship need not diminish it. In our case, it only made us desperate.’
The final pieces were beginning to fall into place for Korrogly. ‘It wasn’t Zemaille who killed your wife, was it?’
Lemos smiled.
‘It was you . . . you killed her!’
‘You’d play hell proving it. But let’s say for the sake of argument that you’re right. Let’s say that in order to . . . to enjoy one another fully, Mirielle and I needed privacy, something that Patricia prevented us from having. What better villain to use as our foil than Mardo Zemaille? The temple was at that time always open to the curious. It would have been easy for someone, someone like myself, to convince Patricia that it might be fun to pay the place a visit one night.’
‘You killed her . . . and you were going to blame it on Zemaille?’
‘Her death was ruled an accident,’ Lemos said with a shrug. ‘So there was no need to blame anyone.’
‘And then you saw your opportunity with Zemaille.’
‘Mardo was a weak man with power. Such men are easy to maneuver. It took some time, but the result was inevitable.’
Lemos’ hand slid lower to caress Mirielle’s belly. Despite her acquiesence, Korrogly sensed that she was less lover than slave, that her enjoyment was due to coercion, to confusion; a slack, sick look had come to her face, one that had not been evident when he had been touching her.
‘I don’t believe I’ve ever properly expressed my gratitude to you,’ Lemos continued. ‘Without you, I might still be back in Almintra. I’m forever in your debt.’
Korrogly just stared at them, uncertain of what to do.
