She had expected him to look at least apologetic. Instead, his face hardened into affront, and she wondered, not for the first time, if she had completely misjudged this man's common sense when she put the family's fortunes into her elder daughter's hands. His first statement confirmed her worst fears. “I am the man of this family now. How can you say she is not under my authority?”
“She is my daughter, not yours. She is your wife's sister, not yours.”
“And she shares a name with you both, and her actions affect that name. If you and Keffria cannot reach her with reasoning, then I will have to restrain her with something stronger. We have no time to coax and cozy them along; Wintrow and Althea both must be made to accept their duties and perform them well.”
“When it comes to Althea, you are not the one to decide what her duties are. I am.” The iron resolve that had so often served her well at a bargaining table came to Ronica Vestrit's aid now.
“Perhaps you see it so. I do not. You have given control of her maintenance to me. In judging what maintenance she actually needs, I may be able to persuade her to curb her behavior to decent standards.”
His voice was so calm and rational, but the sense of his words still stung Ronica.
“When you criticize my daughter's behavior, you criticize the training she received from her parents. While you may not agree with how Ephron and I raised Althea, it is not your place to voice it. Nor did I give Keffria management over Althea's finances as a method to govern her, but solely as a way to determine what the budget could afford to allow her. It is not fitting that sister should govern sister. It is even less fitting that her sister's husband do so. And it was never my intent to force Althea from the Vivacia but only to encourage her to discover another life for herself, after she had seen the ship was in good hands.”
Ronica sank down on a bench beside the table, shaking her head at how her plans had been twisted awry. “Ephron was right about her. She needs a light hand. She will not be dragged or driven to do what is best for her. Last night, well, she was grieving. And whatever you may think of Brashen, I know Ephron thought highly of him. Perhaps he did no more than see her safely home, a fitting thing for a gentleman to do when confronted with a distressed lady.”
“And perhaps they had been drinking tea together all day as well,” Kyle noted with heavy sarcasm.
A mistake. A grievous mistake. Ronica looked past Kyle, stared at Keffria until her daughter became aware of her gaze and briefly met it.
“Keffria,” her mother said quietly. “You knew my intent with those documents. It would be dishonest of you to take advantage of your sister, to use your inheritance to coerce her to your will. Tell me you will not allow that to happen.”
“She has children to think of,” Kyle interjected.
“Keffria,” her mother repeated, and she could not quite keep a plea out of her voice.
“I —” Keffria's eyes darted from her mother's face to her husband's granite stare. Her breath came fast as a cornered mouse's. “I can't be in the middle like this. I can't!” she cried out in dismay. Her hands rose to tangle desperately over her breast.
“You needn't be,” Kyle assured her. “The papers are signed and witnessed. You know what is right is what is best for Althea. You know that neither of us have anything but her own good at heart. Believe in yourself, Keffria. Believe in me, your husband.”
Keffria met her mother's disbelieving stare one last time before she looked down at the table's polished surface. Her hands edged along it, smoothed the wood nervously. “I believe in you, Kyle,” she whispered. “I do. But I don't want to hurt Althea. I don't want to be cruel to her.”
“We won't be,” he assured her promptly. “As long as she is not cruel to us. That is fair.”
“That… seems fair,” she said hesitantly. She glanced at her mother seeking assurance, but Ronica's face was set. She had always thought of her elder daughter as the stronger of the two. After all, had not Keffria chosen a life that demanded strength, while Althea had gone off to dangle after her father and play? Keffria had taken a husband, had children, managed her own household and assisted in the running of the larger holdings. Or so it had seemed to Ronica when she had been making out the documents that determined inheritance. Now it seemed to her that Keffria had mostly managed the internal workings of the house, determining menus and shopping lists and managing social occasions. It had left Ronica free to do all the real tasks of running the holdings. Why had she not seen that Keffria was becoming little more than a place-holder, following her mother's directions, obeying her husband, but seldom standing up for herself? Ronica tried to recall the last time that Keffria had suggested a change or initiated an action. She could not think of one.
Why, oh why, did these insights have to come to her now? Sa help her, she had just put all the reins of their lives into Keffria's hands. By Bingtown customs and traditions, when a man died, his property passed to his offspring. Not his wife, his offspring. Oh, Ronica had the right to retain control of the properties she had brought to her marriage to Ephron, but precious little was left of them. With a lurch of her heart, she abruptly realized it was not just her younger daughter who was now at the mercy of what Kyle considered fitting for a woman. It was herself as well.
She glanced quickly at him, willing her face to stillness. She could only pray to Sa that he had not realized that yet. If he did, she might lose everything. Could not she, too, be brought to heel with a financial noose about her neck?
She took a deep breath and found control of her voice. “It does seem fair,” Ronica conceded. She must not suddenly be too meek. “We shall see if it turns out that way in reality.”
She made a show of sighing, and then rubbing at her eyes as if wearied. “There are so many things to think of now. So many. For now, I shall leave Althea to you. And, as Kyle says, the Vivacia must sail as soon as possible. That, I suppose, is a more important thing to turn our minds to. May I inquire as to what ports and cargoes you have chosen for her, and how soon you must leave?” She hoped she did not sound too eager for his departure. Her mind was already racing as to how she could work best in his absence. She could at least make sure that what remained of her own holdings would be passed to Althea upon her own death. Not that she would make mention of that; she had suddenly decided it would be very wise if she did not appear to oppose Kyle. And time alone with Keffria was time in which she could work on her elder daughter.
Kyle seemed content to be diverted with her question. “As you have said, we must sail soon, and not just for our finances. The sooner I get Wintrow away from the distractions of shore life, the faster he will accept his destiny. He has much to learn, and through no fault of his own, he comes to it when he is closer to man than boy. He cannot begin too soon to master it.”
He paused just long enough for them to nod. It irked Ronica to do it, as he seemed to imply they had somehow been at fault in the boy's upraising. When he was satisfied of their agreement, Kyle went on, “As to ports and cargoes, well, as we have all agreed, we must trade most swiftly in that which is most profitable.” Again he paused for their nods.
“There is but one answer, then,” he decided for them all. “I'll take the Vivacia south to Jamaillia, to take on the very best we can afford. Then north to Chalced, as swift as we may go.”
“The cargo?” Ronica asked faintly. Already her heart was sinking with certainty.
“Slaves, of course. Educated ones. Not pickpockets and thieves and murderers, but those that will be prized in Chalced as tutors and overseers and nannies. Artists and craftsmen. We need to buy up those whose debts have brought them to the block, rather than those condemned to slavery for crimes.” He paused, pondering, then shook his head. “They will not be as hardy, of course. So perhaps we should balance the load with a hold full of… whatever our purse will afford. War captives and bred slaves and what not. The second mate, Torg, has worked slaveships before and knows many of the auction folk. He should be able to guide us to some bargains.”