Steelhands (2011) by Jaida Jones, Danielle Bennett Page A
Authors: Jaida Jones, Danielle Bennett
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entertaining,” I told Toverre before I could help myself, and went to answer the door. I even wiped the knob first with my skirts, just so Toverre wouldn’t faint dead away then and there. A thin layer of dust and grime came off on the fabric.
Maybe he’d think that was worse.
Standing in the hallway was the same young man who’d helped us with our bags, hand still raised from knocking like he hadn’t quite expected me to get to the door that fast.
“Hello,” he said, glancing over my shoulder toward the fire, and where Toverre was knotted up on the end of the bed like a piece of burned twisty-bread. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I just wanted to see how the two of you were settling in.”
“Well enough now,” I said, racking my brain to remember his name. “I’m sorry, I’m shit with names. It
is
Gaeth, isn’t it?”
I knew that Toverre would berate me later for using indelicate language, but there were certain points of etiquette that didn’t make any sense to me. And wasn’t it more polite to ask than to pretend all afternoon that you knew someone when you didn’t? But that was probably just my practical mind getting the better of me once again.
Could’ve done without saying “shit,” though. Probably.
“It is,” Gaeth said, looking marginally relieved.
“Would you like to come in?” Toverre asked pointedly, because I hadn’t yet. I could’ve told him that there were better ways to try and upstage me as a hostess, and sounding like an old magician who lured children into her lair to suck their bones clean
wasn’t
one of them.
It was all in the tone of voice, really.
For whatever reason, instead of giving Toverre a funny look and suddenly remembering he had a pressing engagement elsewhere, Gaeth stepped inside, leaving me to close the door behind him.
Da would never have stood for a closed door at home with two boys in my room, but as far as I was concerned, he didn’t have anything toworry about. Toverre was no danger to a woman’s virtue, and I could tell by the way he was behaving that Gaeth was about to be the millionth lucky customer—the next great love of Toverre’s life.
It wasn’t so unattainable a title as all that. In fact, it rotated at least once a week, changing heads more often than the Arlemagne crown. He was a hopeless romantic—emphasis on the hopeless part—and anyway, no one ever found him out since his way of showing affection was pissing all over a man verbally.
They ran for the hills, and this one would, too. I glanced out of the window and wondered, for a moment, what would serve for hills here in Thremedon. Only the spindly tops of buildings winding their way up the cobblestone street broke up the gray skyline. I couldn’t see much from this angle, but Toverre’d already discovered you could see the Basquiat if you opened the window and leaned out.
Though why anyone would open a window in this weather was beyond me.
From his perch, Toverre made a strangled sound and leapt suddenly in the direction of one of my half-unpacked bags. He looked like a cricket, all long legs and bent-up elbows.
Of course, both Gaeth and I looked after him immediately, to find him shoving my undergarments deep into the suitcase.
“I came at a bad time,” Gaeth said. “Didn’t I?”
“We were just unpacking,” I told him, grateful at least that
he
hadn’t blushed. Toverre’s cheeks were pink as he did up the snaps, my private items locked safely within. If only he’d shown a little less delicacy, my honor mightn’t have been compromised so quickly. “It’s not a bother, anyway.”
“You could have given us
some
warning, actually,” Toverre said pointedly.
Gaeth cleared his throat, shrugging lopsidedly. It was
definitely
love in Toverre’s eyes, and I didn’t quite blame him. Gaeth was clearly of good stock, and if he’d’ve been a horse, Da and I wouldn’t’ve argued for a second before buying him. Nice skin, good teeth, dark eyes. He
Maybe he’d think that was worse.
Standing in the hallway was the same young man who’d helped us with our bags, hand still raised from knocking like he hadn’t quite expected me to get to the door that fast.
“Hello,” he said, glancing over my shoulder toward the fire, and where Toverre was knotted up on the end of the bed like a piece of burned twisty-bread. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I just wanted to see how the two of you were settling in.”
“Well enough now,” I said, racking my brain to remember his name. “I’m sorry, I’m shit with names. It
is
Gaeth, isn’t it?”
I knew that Toverre would berate me later for using indelicate language, but there were certain points of etiquette that didn’t make any sense to me. And wasn’t it more polite to ask than to pretend all afternoon that you knew someone when you didn’t? But that was probably just my practical mind getting the better of me once again.
Could’ve done without saying “shit,” though. Probably.
“It is,” Gaeth said, looking marginally relieved.
“Would you like to come in?” Toverre asked pointedly, because I hadn’t yet. I could’ve told him that there were better ways to try and upstage me as a hostess, and sounding like an old magician who lured children into her lair to suck their bones clean
wasn’t
one of them.
It was all in the tone of voice, really.
For whatever reason, instead of giving Toverre a funny look and suddenly remembering he had a pressing engagement elsewhere, Gaeth stepped inside, leaving me to close the door behind him.
Da would never have stood for a closed door at home with two boys in my room, but as far as I was concerned, he didn’t have anything toworry about. Toverre was no danger to a woman’s virtue, and I could tell by the way he was behaving that Gaeth was about to be the millionth lucky customer—the next great love of Toverre’s life.
It wasn’t so unattainable a title as all that. In fact, it rotated at least once a week, changing heads more often than the Arlemagne crown. He was a hopeless romantic—emphasis on the hopeless part—and anyway, no one ever found him out since his way of showing affection was pissing all over a man verbally.
They ran for the hills, and this one would, too. I glanced out of the window and wondered, for a moment, what would serve for hills here in Thremedon. Only the spindly tops of buildings winding their way up the cobblestone street broke up the gray skyline. I couldn’t see much from this angle, but Toverre’d already discovered you could see the Basquiat if you opened the window and leaned out.
Though why anyone would open a window in this weather was beyond me.
From his perch, Toverre made a strangled sound and leapt suddenly in the direction of one of my half-unpacked bags. He looked like a cricket, all long legs and bent-up elbows.
Of course, both Gaeth and I looked after him immediately, to find him shoving my undergarments deep into the suitcase.
“I came at a bad time,” Gaeth said. “Didn’t I?”
“We were just unpacking,” I told him, grateful at least that
he
hadn’t blushed. Toverre’s cheeks were pink as he did up the snaps, my private items locked safely within. If only he’d shown a little less delicacy, my honor mightn’t have been compromised so quickly. “It’s not a bother, anyway.”
“You could have given us
some
warning, actually,” Toverre said pointedly.
Gaeth cleared his throat, shrugging lopsidedly. It was
definitely
love in Toverre’s eyes, and I didn’t quite blame him. Gaeth was clearly of good stock, and if he’d’ve been a horse, Da and I wouldn’t’ve argued for a second before buying him. Nice skin, good teeth, dark eyes. He
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