“Against Emily Alexander?” Georgia Young laughed scornfully. “Two-thirds of the voters in the Star Kingdom think the woman’s a saint! Attacking her would be the worst strategic blunder anybody’s made since the Peeps started the war early at Hancock Station.”

“Um.” North Hollow grunted, his expression uglier than ever at the reminder of the battle which had brought about his elder brother’s disgrace, then exhaled in an irritated snort. “I just hate to let up on them when we’ve got them on the run this way,” he said almost plaintively.

“That’s because you’re thinking with your emotions again,” Georgia told him. She stood, running her hands across the water silk with a slow, sensual motion that formed a bizarre visual counterpoint for her coldly dispassionate voice. “I know how much you hate Harrington—hate both of them—but when you let hate dictate strategy, it’s a recipe for failure.”

“I know,” Young repeated, his expression still surly. “But I wasn’t the one who came up with the idea in the first place, you know.”

“No, you weren’t. I was,” she agreed in that same clinical tone. “On the other hand, you grabbed the concept and ran with it the instant I suggested it, didn’t you?”

“Because it sounded like it would work,” he replied.

“Because it sounded like it would work… and because you wanted to hurt them,” she corrected, and shook her head. “Let’s be honest, Stefan. It was more important to you personally to make them both suffer than it was for the strategy to work, now wasn’t it?”

“I wanted it to work, too!”

“But that was secondary, as far as you were concerned,” she said inexorably, and shook her head again. “I’m not saying it was unreasonable of you to want to punish them for what they both did to Pavel. But don’t make the same mistake he made. People have a perfectly natural tendency to strike back at anyone who hurts them—the fact that you want to punish Harrington and White Haven is proof enough of that. Unfortunately, Honor Harrington isn’t exactly noted for moderation. White Haven is a civilized person. He’s going to feel bound to play by the rules, but when she strikes back, people have a habit of finding themselves ankle-deep in bodies, and I’d just as soon not be one of the corpses.”

“I’m not going to do anything stupid,” he growled.

“And I’m not going to let you do anything stupid,” her eyes were as cool as her voice. “That’s why I asked you to suggest the approach to High Ridge and let him set up the hatchet men. If she decides to come back after anyone, she’ll be looking at Hayes first, and then our beloved Prime Minister. Besides,” the countess chuckled humorlessly, “not even she can kill off the entire Government. She’d have to stop before she worked her way all the way down to the Office of Trade!”

“I’m not afraid of her,” Stefan shot back, and his wife’s eyes hardened.