Linscott gestured in a casual manner, as if still brushing at cobwebs in dark corners in his search for polite words. "So, I'm at a loss to understand how a moral man could allow his wife to parade around showing off her teats like that."

Dalton smiled; the tone, if not the words themselves, had been conciliatory. Casually, as he stepped closer, he caught a full cup of wine from a passing tray and offered it to the Director. Linscott took the cup with a nod.

Dalton dropped his official tone and spoke as if he had been boyhood chums with the man. "Actually, I couldn't agree more. In fact, my wife and I had an argument about it before we came down tonight. She insisted the dress was the fashion. I put my foot down, as the man of the marriage, and unconditionally forbade her from wearing the dress."

"Then why is she wearing it?"

Dalton sighed wearily. "Because I don't cheat on her."

Linscott cocked his head. "While I am glad to hear you don't ascribe to the seeming new moral attitudes where indulgences are concerned, what has that to do with the price of wheat in Kelton?"

Dalton took a sip of his wine. Linscott followed his lead.

"Well, since I don't cheat on her, I'd have no play in bed if I won every argument."

For the first time, the Director's face took on a small smile. "I see what you mean."

"The younger women around here dress in an appalling fashion. I was shocked when I came here to work. My wife is younger, though, and wishes to fit in with them, to have friends. She fears being shunned by the other women of the household.

"I have spoken with the Minister about it, and he agrees the women should not flaunt themselves in such a manner, but our culture grants to women prerogative over their own dress. The Minister and I believe that, together, we might think of a way to influence fashion to the better."

Linscott nodded approvingly. "Well, I've a wife, too, and I don't cheat, either. I am glad to hear you are one of the few today who adheres to the old ideals that an oath is sacred, and commitment to your mate is sacrosanct. Good man."

Anderith culture revolved a great deal around honor and word given in solemn oath-about holding to your pledge. But Anderith was changing. It was a matter of great concern to many that moral bounds had, over the last few decades, fallen to scorn by many. Debauchery was not only accepted, but expected, among the fashionable elite.

Dalton glanced over at Teresa, back at the Director, and to Teresa again. He held out a hand.

"Director, could I introduce you to my lovely wife? Please? I would consider it a personal favor if you lent your considerable influence to the issue of decency. You are a greatly respected man, and could speak with moral authority I could never begin to command. She thinks I speak only as a jealous husband."

Linscott considered only briefly. "I would, if it would please you."

Teresa was encouraging Claudine to drink some wine and was offering comforting words as Dalton shepherded the Director up beside the two women.

"Teresa, Claudine, may I introduce Director Linscott."

Teresa smiled into his eyes as he lightly kissed her hand. Claudine stared at the floor as the procedure was repeated on her hand. She looked as if she wanted nothing more than to either jump into the man's arms for protection or run away as fast as she could. Dalton's reassuring hand on her shoulder prevented either.

"Teresa, darling, the Director and I were just discussing the issue of the women's dresses and fashion versus decorum."

Teresa canted a shoulder toward the Director, as if taking him into her confidence. "My husband is so stuffy about what I wear. And what do you think, Director Linscott? Do you approve of my dress?" Teresa beamed proudly. "Do you like it?"

Linscott glanced down from Teresa's eyes only briefly. "Quite lovely, my dear. Quite lovely."

"You see, Dalton? I told you. My dress is much more conservative than the others. I'm delighted one so widely respected as yourself approves, Director Linscott."

While Teresa turned to a passing cupbearer for a refill, Dalton gave Linscott a why-didn't-you-help-me? look. Linscott shrugged and bent to Dalton's ear.

"Your wife is a lovely, endearing woman," he whispered. "I couldn't very well humiliate and disappoint her."

Dalton made a show of sighing. "My problem, exactly." Linscott straightened, smiling all the way. "Director," Dalton said, more seriously, "Claudine, here, had a terrible accident earlier. While taking a walk outside she caught her foot and took a nasty tumble."

"Dear spirits." Linscott took up her hand. "Are you badly hurt, my dear?"

"It was nothing," Claudine mumbled. "I've known Edwin a good many years. I'm sure your husband would be understanding if I helped you to your rooms. Here, take my arm, and I will see you safely to your bed."

As he took a sip, Dalton watched over the top of his cup. Her eyes swept the room. Those eyes held a world of longing to accept his offer. She might be safe if she did. He was a powerful man, and would have her under his wing. This test would tell Dalton what he needed to know. It wasn't really a huge risk to play out such an experiment. People did disappear, after all, without ever being found. Still, there were risks in it. He waited for Claudine to tell him which way it would go. At last, she did.

"Thank you for your concern, Director Linscott, but I'm fine. I have so looked forward to the feast, and seeing the guests come to the estate. I would forever regret missing it, and seeing our Minister of Culture speak."

Linscott took a sip of wine. "You and Edwin have labored vigorously on new laws since he was elected burgess. You have worked with the Minister. What think you of the man?" He gestured with his cup for emphasis. "Your honest opinion, now."

Claudine took a gulp of wine. She had to catch her breath. She stared at nothing as she spoke.

"Minister Chanboor is a man of honor. His policies have been good for Anderith. He has been respectful of the laws Edwin has proposed." She took another gulp of wine. "We are fortunate to have Bertrand Chanboor as the Minister of Culture. I have a hard time imagining another man who could do everything he does."

Linscott lifted an eyebrow. "Quite a ringing endorsement, from a woman of your renown. We all know that you, Claudine, are as important to those laws as Edwin.", "You are too kind," she mumbled, staring into her cup. "I am just the wife of an important man. I would be little missed and quickly forgotten were I to have broken my neck out there tonight. Edwin will be honored long and well."

Linscott puzzled at the top of her head.

"Claudine thinks far too little of herself," Dalton said. He caught sight of the seneschal, impeccably dressed in a long-tailed red coat crossed with a sash of many colors, opening the double doors. Beyond the doors, the lavers, with rose petals floating in them, awaited the guests.

Dalton turned to the Director. "I suppose you know who will be the guest of honor tonight?"

Linscott frowned. "Guest of honor?"

"A representative from the Imperial Order. A highranking man by the name of Stein. Come to tell us Emperor Jagang's words." Dalton took another sip. "The Sovereign has come, too, to hear those words."

Linscott sighed with the weight of this news. Now the man knew why he had been summoned, along with the other Directors, to what they had thought was no more than an ordinary feast at the estate. The Sovereign, for his own safety, rarely announced his appearances in advance. He had arrived with his own special guards and a large contingent of servants.

Teresa's face glowed as she smiled up at Dalton, eager for the evening's events. Claudine stared at the floor.

"Ladies and gentleman," the seneschal announced, "if it would please you, dinner is served."