Page 24 of Tattle Tail
It stung to hear how little Tolerance thought of Peaceable’s work, not to mention the years of school that went into her engineering degree.
“My work is important,” Peaceable said, lifting her chin. “The communication networks in this sector run on the tech I helped design.”
“Comms that do not work if it is raining.” Tolerance scoffed.
Comms that work in deep space. Every stranded ship sent an emergency signal that was received, and the ship was rescued. Lives were saved. Trade routes ran smoothly because pilots did not have to worry about venturing to isolated planets such as Corra. The tech she helped to design kept the planet connected to the galaxy.
She wanted to say as much to her mother, but the words died in her throat.
“It is not nothing,” Peaceable said, her voice barely a whisper.
Her mother’s ear went back, then moved forward. Peaceable had never argued with her mother before. She was as stunned as Tolerance. Finally, her mother dragged out the line to end all arguments. She said, “I am your mother. I am thinking of your best interests.”
“As a kit factory for an aging aristocrat whose title was a meaningless honorific until recently?”
Tolerance sucked in her breath, as if Peaceable had struck her. “How dare you speak about Lord Resolve in that way? After all the aid he has given this family, we are indebted to him.” Barely pausing for breath, Tolerance continued, “I cannot believe that you would spurn Lord Resolve for a cargo pilot. You know what they are like, unreliable, with a mate in every port.”
Now that her claws were well and truly in, Tolerance delivered the killing blow. “I suspect this is why you kept the relationship secret; you know it will not last.”
Peaceable’s chest tightened and breathing grew difficult. This was a disaster. She had been so foolish to think her mother would be pacified by an engagement. The first bit of push back from Tolerance and Peaceable wanted to confess everything.
Her throat dry, she managed to say, “Joseph is not like that.”
“He is exactly like that. It was not hard to find photos of him and his…companions…on the network.” Tolerance stressed companions in such an oily way that it made Peaceable’s skin crawl. “I’m sure Mr. Cayne has spent a fortune to keep the worst of his behavior from the media, but he cannot cover up everything.”
“There is nothing to cover up,” Peaceable said. Joseph had many flaws, and she was more than happy to point them out, but he was not the sort to make headlines with scandalous behavior. “He has dated females in the past. That is normal behavior for a single male and expected.”
Tolerance huffed, sounding unconvinced. “You are too trusting. He is a fortune hunter. His entire family is.”
The change in attack made Peaceable’s head spin. “A what? What fortune?”
“The family fortune,” her mother said in a tone that implied Peaceable was being obstinate. “Our family has a long and noble lineage.”
There was no Daval fortune, unless you counted self-importance and placing too much value on family lineage. Before the troubles on Talmar, the Davals had, at best, been gentry because they owned land. Any connection to the aristocracy was so far removed that it wasn’t worth mentioning.
Peaceable had no idea her mother was desperate enough to claw her way back up the social ladder that she’d use her daughter as a stepping stone. The revelation made her stomach queasy.
“Have you met this male’s mother? She seems ridiculous,” Tolerance said.
“Do not speak about Valerian like that,” Peaceable protested, finding her voice at least. Valerian had ideas and beliefs that she found odd, but the female had always been pleasant to her. “She is a genuine and kind person.”
“She is a lunatic.” Tolerance said the words with force. They echoed off the tile kitchen walls.
Peaceable stared at her mother, stunned at the mean-spirited words. Had her mother always been like this, or was this a recent development? She knew Tolerance could be snobby and overbearing, but she had never heard such ugly words before.
“You have a horrible opinion about a female you have never met. I am disappointed in you, Mother,” Peaceable said.
“Disappointed inme? I—”
A throat cleared, breaking the silence.
Joseph stood in the doorway, holding an empty creamer pitcher. “Mr. Daval asked me to refill the milk, but I’d rather have an apology.”
Joseph
Well, this was terrible.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. When he heard voices, he paused outside the door so as not to interrupt a private conversation. Then he heard his name and interrupting seemed even more impossible.
