The Merchant’s War полностью

"There's, uh, only one bed, Erasmus." "We're supposed to be married, Miriam. I'll take the chaise."

She blinked at the acrid bite of his words. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm sorry." He rubbed his forehead. "Blame Margaret's sense of humor." He looked at her again, appraisingly: "With hair that color, and curly, and-you've been using paints, haven't you? Yes, looking like that, I don't think anyone'll recognize you at first sight."

"I think it's ugly. But Mrs. Christobell-she ran the salon-seemed to think it was the height of fashion." She carefully hung her hat and jacket on the coat-rail then touched her hair gingerly. "That feels really odd. Better keep me away from candle flames for a while."

"I think I can manage that." He laid his hat and newspaper on the occasional table. "You did very well at making yourself look completely unlike yourself-it's going to take some getting used to."

"That goes for me, too. I'm not sure I like it." She headed for the table, but before she could reach it he ducked in and pulled a chair out for her. "Thanks, I think." She sat down, bent forward to get closer to her shoes, and sighed. "I need to get these off for a bit-my feet are killing me."

"Did you spend everything, or do you have some money left?"

"Not much." She focused on his expression. "Did you think I can keep up appearances by looting your shop?"

"No, but I-" He rubbed his forehead wearily. "Forget it."

"I had to do something about my appearance, make myself less recognizable. And I had to get hold of a respectable outfit, if I want to pass for your... spouse. And I had to buy shoes that fit, and a couple of changes of underwear, and some other stuff. It costs money, and takes time, but it's necessary. Are you still taking your medicine?"

He frowned at her effusion: "Yes, every day, as you said."

"Good." She managed to smile. "One less problem to solve." She crossed her legs. "Now, what have you been up to?"

"Getting the job done." He looked in her direction, not focusing, and she shivered. Who is he seeing? "I'm supposed to catch the train back to Boston tomorrow, but I wasn't planning on staying long-I'm needed in Fort Pet-rograd, out west." He blinked suddenly, and looked her in the eye. "You don't have to come with me-you can stay in my apartment if you prefer."

"And do what, precisely? Sit down, pacing like that is making me itch."

"I don't know." He pulled out the chair opposite and sat down. "I've got a job to do, and you turned up right in the middle of it."

"I could keep the shop open." She sounded doubtful, even to herself. Do I want to he on my own in Boston? What if Anghard sends someone to look for me? It would be the first place they checked. Best not to wait until they start looking, then.

"That's not practical." He frowned. "I trust you to do it-that's not in question-but there are too many problems. Business is very poor, and I'm already under observation. If I take a wife that's one thing, but employing a shop assistant while I take off to the wilds of California is something else: the local thief-takers aren't completely stupefied. I'm supposed to be a pawnbroker, not a well-off store-holder." He shook his head. "Unless you've got any better ideas?"

"I think... well, there's some stuff I need to pick up in Boston. And then I need to get back in touch with my relatives, but carefully. How about if I went with you? How long will you be gone?"

"At least a week; it's three days each way by train, and flying would attract the wrong kind of attention." He smiled lopsidedly. "Frankly, I'd be grateful if you'd accompany me. It'd strengthen my cover on the way out-we could traveling on our honeymoon-and if we arrived back together I could introduce you to the neighbors as someone from out west. Wife, sister, brother's widow, whatever. And, to be truthful, the three days out-one gets tired of traveling alone."

"Oh yes," she said fervently. "Don't I know it." It was traveling alone that got me into this mess, that courier run to Dunedin. That, and boredom, and wondering what Angbard was doing funding a fertility clinic - "Before we skip town, though. There are some things I left in my office, at the works. I really need to get my hands on them. Do you think there's any way I could retrieve them?"

"You left your relatives running the business, didn't you? Do you know if it's still going? Or if you'd be welcome there if it is?"