His brother-in-law smiled. “There you are, then.”

“Yoshiko won’t be much better off having her name linked with a killer’s brother. Kojiro, by the way, threatened to confess again, if we accuse Nagaoka. His affection for his brother is quite strong.” Akitada grimaced. “I have some difficulty accepting that Nagaoka could treat his own brother so cruelly.”

“My dear Akitada, our history is full of instances of fratricide.”

Seimei came in with another flask of hot wine. Clearing his throat apologetically, he said, “The ladies have asked me to tell you that they are anxious to hear what happened at the prison.”

Akitada rose. “Yes, of course. I forgot. I suppose we had better go now.” He sighed. His head still ached and he dreaded the coming interview.

Seimei followed them, carrying the wine and their cups.

At first glance the gathering of the three young women looked charming and normal. Dressed in pretty silk robes, dark because of the mourning period, but most becoming, their long, lustrous hair spread out behind them, they sat or reclined on cushions placed around a large brazier.

But the faces they turned to the men were not cheerful. Akiko looked angry, and Yoshiko was sickly pale, with bluish circles under her red-rimmed eyes and a general air of frailty.

Akitada’s eyes passed quickly from them to Tamako. His wife was sitting stiffly upright, her normally placid face tense and stern. His heart misgave him. Feeling guilty that he had delayed so long with Toshikage, he stumbled into apology. “Forgive me, but we were discussing the case against Nagaoka’s brother.” As soon as he had spoken, he felt that this excuse simply made the matter worse. Lately he always seemed to be saying the wrong thing to Tamako. Their easy, companionable relationship had changed to one of disapproval and hurt feelings. He went on hurriedly, “The news is good for Yoshiko at least. Kobe has agreed to leave her in peace for the time being.”

Tamako said quietly, “Thank heavens for that!”

Akiko was less pleased. She cried angrily, “I should hope so! Who does the man think he is?”

Only Yoshiko did not speak. She looked down at her hands, plucking at the fabric of her robe.

Akitada was aware of new irritation with his youngest sister. She clearly had no idea what danger she had been in and what it had cost him to protect her. What had she expected? That he would get her lover released and bring him home to meet the family? He suppressed an urge to shout at her and instead seated himself next to Tamako. His wife immediately rose, offering her cushion to Toshikage, who accepted.

Seimei filled their cups with wine. When he was done, he hesitated and looked at Akitada. But his master’s eyes were following Tamako, troubled that she had withdrawn from him, trying to catch her eye. Being ignored, the old man withdrew on soft feet.

“Well?” Akiko demanded impatiently. “What happened? Don’t keep us in suspense, Akitada!”

“What? Oh. I told Kobe your sister’s story. Under the circumstances, only the truth would do. He expressed shock and sympathy. Since he did not question it, the rest was easy enough. I asked to be allowed to investigate the crime in order to clear Kojiro. He agreed, provided I work under him.” No point in going into the unpleasant details of the interview.

Tamako looked at him now and he knew that she understood his humiliation. He tried a reassuring smile, but she only bit her lip, glancing away again. His sisters received the information differently. Yoshiko’s face lit up with hope, and Akiko clapped her hands. “Wonderful!” she cried. “That should take care of the problem neatly. You will prove the fellow innocent, and everyone will forget Yoshiko was ever involved in the matter.”

“Thank you for your faith in me,” Akitada said dryly. “At the moment I am not nearly as sanguine as you are.” He glanced at Yoshiko. She had paled again, and her fingers resumed plucking and pleating her gown. “Well, Yoshiko?” he asked, hoping his voice was not as harsh as it seemed to him. “What have you decided to do?”

Without looking up, she said softly, “I shall wait.”

“For what?” Akiko demanded. “Put the fellow from your mind and go on with your life. If it were not for this stupid mourning period, Toshikage and I would soon have you in the right company to meet gentlemen.”

Though Akiko expressed Akitada’s views precisely, her tactlessness irritated him. He asked again, “Yoshiko?”

She raised tear-dulled eyes to his.

“Will you remain here, in your home, for the time being?”

“Of course she will,” Akiko cut in. “All this nonsense about leaving because she brought dishonor to you! How would it look, for heaven’s sake?”

Akitada and Yoshiko were still looking at each other. He saw the helpless tears gathering in her eyes and opened his mouth to reassure her, but it was too late. The tears spilled over. “I shall stay—as I stayed with Mother,” she said in a tone of utter hopelessness, half choking on the words, then jumped up and ran from the room. Tamako, with an inscrutable look at her husband, rose to follow.

“Now what?” said Akiko in an annoyed tone, staring after them. She started to get up also, clumsily, because of her pregnancy, and muttered, “Heavens! The stubbornness of that girl! She must be made to see reason!”

“No.” Akitada was up. “Don’t strain yourself. Stay here with your husband. You have done enough.” He headed out the door, pleased for a moment with the ambiguity of his words, but tension, and with it the throbbing behind his eyes, returned. He was not sure whether he was more frustrated by Yoshiko or her insensitive sister. At the moment he felt like blaming both for the strain between himself and his wife.

He heard Yoshiko before he reached her room. Her voice was desperate, high with passion, and carried quite clearly. “No! You are wrong!” she cried. “My brother has made up his mind against it. He’s the kind of person who despises men who are not as nobly born as he and thinks them no better than animals.”

Akitada stopped abruptly. His mind rebelled at her opinion of his character. He fought his anger. It was not true, of course. She did not know him, could not know how fond he was of Tora and Genba, neither of whom would dream of aspiring to marry his sister.

There was a pause, presumably for Tamako to respond, but she spoke so softly he could not hear her. Yoshiko cut back in with, “Honor? It is he who is dishonored by forcing me to break my word to Kojiro.”

Akitada bit his lip, then knocked.

Tamako opened, her eyes widening at the anger in his face. Akitada said stiffly, “Leave us alone.” Tamako flinched, then her eyes narrowed. She compressed her lips and left.

Yoshiko stood in the middle of her room, a very pleasant one as her brother saw, his glance sweeping over screens and painted clothes boxes, lacquered sewing kits and writing utensils, a bamboo shelf with narrative scrolls and collections of poems, and paper-covered doors to the outside. That she should be so unappreciative of the comforts provided for her angered him more. He glared at her flushed, tear-stained face and said coldly, “I shall not force you to remain under my roof against your will. However, in this matter both Toshikage and Akiko support me. I cannot imagine that your stay with them would be much more pleasant than putting up with me.”

Yoshiko stared at him. Slowly the tears started again. Her voice was unsteady. “I know. Thank you, Akitada.”

He looked away and glanced around the room again, searching for words. He finally said stiffly, “It appears that I cannot make you see that I have only your best interests at heart, and this naturally pains me. But if you decide to remain, there will be a condition. I will not tolerate your putting your affairs between myself and Tamako. Do you understand!”