Two chairs were set near the flames, with a small table between them, obviously to hold the brandy and the two accompanying glasses.
She took the other chair with a minimum of fuss. “I think Gen’s probably already asleep,” she smiled. “That is one tired little girl.”
“She’ll be well rested to welcome her Mama.” He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow while picking up one of the lovely glass snifters.
Understanding his silent question, she nodded. “Yes, please.”
Silas carefully poured what she recognised as Smuggler’s Polished Sin—amber-dark and velvety—its warm spice and burnt sugar finish curling into the air between them as it splashed into the two glasses.
“Careful,” he murmured, offering her one. “This one has a reputation.”
“So I’ve heard,” she replied, waiting until he picked up his to take a sip. “Mmm. Very nice indeed.”
“You’ve tried this one before, I take it?”
“Actually, no, but I have heard it praised by those who have. Up until now, my choice has been the Imperial Amber Reserve, but this...” she sipped again, “may just change my mind.”
“Your preference is admirable,” he said quietly. “Not many get the chance to enjoy such a supremely made liquor as the Amber Reserve.”
“Um.” Cursing herself for her mistake, Dorothea changed the subject. “Tell me about your home, Mr Gray. It is much larger than I could have imagined, and must have taken a long time to excavate?”
“I would be happy to,” he smiled. “But not unless you call me Silas...”
She fought with herself for all of ten seconds. “I’d be honoured, Silas...”
“Thank you, Thea.” He nodded, immediately glancing around the room. “This room was an addition. When I first looked at this place, I knew there was a lot of potential. And you’re right, it’s not easy to create a fair-sized dwelling unless you go into the caves and build more traditionally.”
“But there, you’d have the routine issues of what I understand are the usual sixth-level dwellings. Ventilation, heating, cooling, water...”
“Whereas here, tucked into the rocks, I have much better control over all those things, although I will admit the pumping system gave my crew some headaches.”
“Running water is definitely an advantage,” she observed, sipping her brandy.
“It is, of course,” he agreed. “Now that the civilities are mostly observed, perhaps you would tell me what on earth awoman like you is doing down here amongst the caves and forges?”
She blinked. “What on earth do you mean? A woman like me?”
He met her gaze calmly. “I’m not blind, dear girl. Elegance and class, not to mention good breeding, ooze from your pores as freely as sweat does from our Forge workers.”
She raised her chin. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Wrong answer, Thea.” He sipped his brandy. “Besides the fact that your conversation is clearly way above what is to be expected of Arcvale’s lower levels, I doubt that anyone further down than level two has ever heard of, let alone tasted, Imperial Amber Reserve.”
Dorothea wanted to give herself a good hard kick, but keeping her countenance calm and unruffled was about the hardest thing she’d ever done. Hoping he didn’t see her internal chaos, she met his gaze as calmly as she could.
“So I am well-spoken and like excellent brandy. That makes me unusual? I think not.” Her mind selected and discarded comments in a whirlwind of decisions. “I’m sure there are more than a few ladies with sophisticated tastes here in the Undercroft.” A random, if unwelcome, thought shot into her head. “Although perhaps they may not be as reputable.”
He chuckled. “No, you’re no torchlight belle, Miss Thea. That I can say with complete certainty. But there’s something about you that doesn’t quite....fit. That’s the word. You don’t fit into any of the Undercroft categories.”
“Ridiculous. Of course I fit.” She took a good swallow of her brandy and barely managed to refrain from coughing.
“In the right environment, yes.” He nodded. “I see you at a piano, candles reflecting light off the brilliantly polishedinstrument, you’re playing alone, a sonata perhaps. Your hands fly softly over the keys...”
She swallowed. “Nonsense.”
“Or perhaps at a ball,” he continued, his eyes on her face. “Your hair shining beneath the chandeliers, your gown a whispered breath of blue and gold as you whirl around the floor...”
His words seduced her, kept her gaze on his. “I...I...”
