It was a dangerous set of instructions for any station commander to issue, and Ferrero knew it. If something did go wrong, Harrington could absolutely rely on someone to suggest that she’d actually encouraged her captains to respond with force if challenged. And to be fair to the sort of rear-area genius who would come up with that sort of suggestion, there were undoubtedly captains who would interpret Duchess Harrington’s orders in precisely that fashion. Fortunately, few of them were currently assigned to Sidemore Station, but even one in the wrong place at the wrong time could be enough.

And, Ferrero told herself with bleak honesty, I know who one of those officers could be… especially with Gortz pushing me this way.

She drew a deep breath and made herself settle deeper into the command chair. Hellbarde had been matching Jessica Epps’ every course change at close range for over sixteen hours… and refusing to identify herself when challenged. At the moment, the other cruiser was at least two hundred thousand kilometers inside normal missile range of Ferrero’s ship, which put Gortz into a very gray area. Hellbarde hadn’t quite violated interstellar law by shadowing Jessica Epps from within weapons range and ignoring all requests that she identify herself and state her intentions. Not quite. But she was pressing the limits. Indeed, Ferrero could have made a strong case before any interstellar court of admiralty for justifying herself in peremptorily ordering the Andermani to stand clear of her own vessel… and locking Hellbarde up with her fire control systems to emphasize her point.

Which, she admitted, was precisely what she wanted to do. And, for that matter, precisely what Gortz deserved for her to do.

But it wasn’t what she’d done. Not given Lady Harrington’s orders. Instead of slapping Gortz down, she’d gritted her teeth, brought Jessica Epps to level two readiness, and manned missile-defense stations. And she had Shawn Harris running constant targeting updates on Hellbarde using passive sensors only. But aside from that, she’d done nothing else. Indeed, after the first three challenges, she hadn’t even hailed the other ship.

I wonder if Gortz is as pissed off by the way I’m ignoring his ship as I am by the way he’s shadowing mine? Ferrero thought with a sort of mordant humor that did very little to mask the seething heat of her own anger from her.

But at this particular moment, what Gortz felt didn’t really matter. Because however angry Erica Ferrero might be, she was going to follow her orders. She would not provide whatever pretext Hellbarde might be seeking to suck her into providing.

But if that bastard even blinks in my direction, she told herself harshly, I’m going to blow him and his goddamned ship to dust bunnies.

Chapter Thirty-Five

ELAINE Descroix had never really enjoyed her appearances in the House of Lords at the best of times. Which might have struck some observers as being just a little bit odd, since the upper chamber of the Star Kingdom’s parliament was the logical spiritual home of the defenders of the status quo to which the current government was so devoted. But although the Descroix family was well ensconced among the wealthiest upper crust of Manticoran society, its connections with the true aristocracy were tenuous, at best. And Elaine, who had married into the family, was even more tenuously connected than that, especially since Sir John Descroix’s death fourteen T-years before. She’d never seen any reason to replace the deceased husband who’d been her original passport to the stratified heights of Manticoran society, and most people had forgotten that she was a relative newcomer to it. Yet despite the outward assurance with which she rubbed elbows with the most nobly born, neither she—nor they—ever quite forgot that she was an interloper in their territory.