Better than romantic, it was a horse race: before evening, one of Rafe's compatriots, a tall youth with a thin mouth and hard eyes returned to ask Father for permission to pay his regards to Pearl, and by late the next afternoon two more young gentlemen and an extremely handsome young lady came to admire Pearl's reputedly dying beauty, and made their addresses known.
"Which of them will you accept?" Opal asked that second night, earning Pearl's indifferent shrug.
"Rafe is the wealthiest of them, and unlikely to try to murder me in our bed when I don't conveniently die in a month or two. At least it's easy to appear increasingly fragile, with the quality of food available here." Pearl's nostrils flared just enough to convey absolute contempt, though in fact the Noble's dining hall was fit enough to serve anyone shy of royalty. "I prefer Solindra, though. She has less money but a great deal more charm."
"Solindra Nare has no brothers or sisters," Father said firmly. "Her parents are unlikely to condone a marriage that won't produce an heir."
Pearl rolled her eyes quite magnificently. "Children can be adopted, Father, or a child-maker hired to lie with her if she must be a mother. If we're appallingly canny we might find some young rake with money who'd prefer a husband of his own, and join two more fortunes together for the child's secure future. I'll take another week or two so she doesn't think this is all too easy, and be married before the spring cross-quarter day. I suppose you'll have to come with me, Opal. You can be better presented from Solindra's manor than a hotel, and Amber can move into the Crossroads with Father, if the ships haven't yet come in."
"How thoughtful of you," I said dryly.
Pearl cast me an icy look. "Once Opal is settled she or I will take you in, Amber, but it's easier to marry one woman off at a time. Having all of us hanging about might make someone realize the urgency of the situation."
That, I could not entirely argue with. Neither, in fact, was I in any particular hurry to wed, despite understanding the necessity of it. A little delay orchestrated by my conniving eldest sister was welcome to me.
Rafe, Solindra, and several others called daily for ten afternoons. Each time cold Pearl thawed a little more toward Solindra, who grew more radiant with each of Pearl's smiles, whilst Rafe, who appeared no fool, found himself increasingly attentive of Opal. My middle sister seemed quietly pleased by this turn of events, though I thought Opal would be pleased by anything that helped secure our fortunes. Not because she was a fortune-hunter herself, but because she would worry about us until we were all safe, and think very little of attaching herself to someone pleasant to ensure that safety was engaged. To my amusement, Father became increasingly offended that none of the remaining young men seemed interested in pursuing me, though they were polite enough while trying to steal my sisters' attention. Father began to try to herd them toward me, as if he was a sheepdog and they the sheep—leaving me in a role I dared not contemplate—and I heard them chortling about it on their way out one evening. "Why not?" asked one. "She's got a face you could look at for hours, and none of her older sister's sharpness."
Pearl sent their backs a daggered look indeed: had witchery been more common they might have found themselves bleeding from her glare, but instead the other one shrugged off his reply as the door closed behind them. "Not that one. Why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free?"
I murmured, "Oh dear." My sisters both looked at me, appalled, while Father turned white, then red, and went swiftly into the room he shared with Maman.
Opal said, "Amber?"
"I was very discrete!"
"Apparently not discrete enough." Pearl flung herself into a divan—even that looked graceful on my sister's long frame—and gazed at me with a peculiar mix of horror and admiration. "Really, Amber? Who?"
"Well, it hardly matters now, does it? Our wealthy young friends are still interested in you two, even if I've been, ahm." I glanced toward the door and the departed gossips. "Milked."
"It was that boy at the ball last year, wasn't it? The one who couldn't take his eyes off you. What happened to him? Maybe we can force his hand into marriage."
"For all the stars and the shining moon, Pearl. He left last spring with his parents, to sail for the Eastern Islands and their holdings there. All that gossiping snob who just left has is speculation. People talk because I won't look away when they stare at me. Anyway, if you and Opal have secured good enough marriages and Father's ships come in, either I'll be well enough off that I'm too profitable a union to pass on, or I'll be able to marry someone who doesn't care. Besides," I added with a sly smile, "it was worth it."
A blush crept up Opal's cheeks and she leaned forward to whisper, "Was it? Tell us about it."
My smile became a slow grin, and I bid my sisters nestle closer while I whispered my experiences to them, and we all of us went to bed shyly pleased with ourselves and convinced of our salvation in Solindra Nare's handsome form.
To this day I believe it would have come, had further disaster not struck.
Ships sailed all the year round, but in winter stayed as close to coastlines as they could, the better to hide from storms. We could not expect Father's ships to come in before the equinox, and perhaps not for weeks after that: they had traveled half the world away to the Eastern Islands. They might return laden with silks and gold and ivory, but not until the weather was good enough to risk the open oceans, and the long voyage home.
We could not, then, expect a wretched sailor from a smaller ship to stumble into the Noble's lobby just past the turn of the year, and to fall upon his knees before my father and begin to cry.
Even if the poor man had been more discreet, I suppose it would only have been a matter of hours—perhaps days if we were fortunate, but fortune was not smiling on us of late—before the whole city knew his tale, but as it was, the city learned it nearly as soon as we did.
Father knew the man; even I recognized him as a first mate on one of Father's largest and most prosperous ships, the Cobweb. Kneeling at Father's feet, the sailor told his tale.