"Do you realize what you're saying, Dame Honor? You're accusing a peer of the realm of hiring an assassin."
"Yes, Sir, I am."
"Do you have any evidence to support that charge?" he demanded.
"I do, Sir," she replied with no discernible emotion at all, and his eyes widened.
"Then why haven't you presented it to the authorities? Duels may be legal, but paying a professional duelist to kill your enemies certainly isn't!"
"I haven't approached the authorities because my evidence wouldn't be legally admissible in a criminal prosecution, Sir." He frowned, and she went on quietly. "Despite that, it's absolutely conclusive. Summervale admitted his complicity before witnesses."
"What witnesses?" His voice was sharp, but she shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but I must respectfully decline to answer that question."
The admirals eyes narrowed, and Honor found it difficult to maintain her calm expression under their weight.
"I see," he went on after a brief, pregnant pause. "This evidence—I'm assuming it's a recording of some sort—was obtained under less than legal circumstances, and you're shielding whoever obtained it, aren't you?"
"Sir, I respectfully decline to answer that question."
White Haven snorted, but he didn't press it, and she inhaled in relief, only to stiffen as he leaned towards his pickup with a stony expression.
"Do you intend to challenge Earl North Hollow, as well, Dame Honor?"
"I intend, My Lord, to see justice done." Her voice was equally quiet, with the tang of distant ice, and he closed his eyes briefly.
"I want you to... think very carefully about that, Captain. The situation in the House of Lords remains extremely delicate. The Government managed to find a majority to support the declaration, but just barely, and its working majority is still very, very narrow. More to the point, North Hollow played a pivotal role in getting the declaration voted out. Any hint of fresh scandal attached to his name, especially one which involves you, could have disastrous consequences."
"That, My Lord, is not my concern," Honor said flatly.
"Then it ought to be. If the Opposition—"
"My Lord—" for the first time in her life, Honor Harrington interrupted a flag officer, and her voice was hard "—the Opposition means very little to me at the moment. The man I loved was killed—murdered—at Pavel Young's orders." White Haven started to speak again, but she went right on, all pretense of detachment vanished. "I know it—and, I believe, you know it—but I can't prove it to the satisfaction of a court of law. That leaves me only one option, and that option, Sir, is my legal right in this Kingdom. I intend to exercise it, regardless of any political considerations."
She jerked to an incandescent halt, appalled at herself for speaking to an admiral—any admiral, but especially this one—in such fashion. Her veneer of self-control was far thinner than she'd realized, and electricity jittered in her nerves, yet she met his eyes unflinchingly, and her own were agate hard.
Fragile silence hovered for a moment, then, finally, White Haven squared his shoulders and drew a deep breath.
"My concern, Dame Honor, is not for North Hollow. It's not even for the Government—or, at any rate, not directly. It's for you and the consequences of any action you may take against him."
"I'm prepared to accept the consequences, My Lord."
"Well I'm not!" His eyes snapped with anger for the first time, anger directed squarely at her. "Duke Cromarty's Government will survive, but if you challenge Pavel Young to a duel—worse, if you challenge him and kill him—the Opposition will explode. You thought it was bad before and during the court-martial? Well, Captain, it'll be a thousand times worse after this one! The Opposition will demand your head on a platter, and the Duke will have no choice but to give it to them! Can't you see that?!"
"I'm not a politician, My Lord. I'm a naval officer." Honor met his gaze without evasion, but there was a pleading note in her voice which surprised even her. The hurt of White Haven's sudden anger cut deep. It was suddenly the most important thing in her world that he understand, and she raised one hand at her com screen in an imploring gesture. "I know my duty, my responsibilities, as a Queens officer, but doesn't the Kingdom have some duty to me, Sir? Didn't Paul Tankersley deserve better than to be killed because a man who hates me paid for it? Damn it, Sir," her quiet, intense voice shook with passion as she stared at him, "I owe Paul—and myself!"
White Haven flinched as if she'd struck him, but he shook his head slowly.
"I sympathize, Captain. I truly do. But I once told you direct action isn't always the best response. If you pursue this, you'll destroy yourself and your career."
"Then what's the point, Sir?" The anger had gone out of her voice, and despair softened the hardness of her eyes, yet she held his gaze with a forlorn pride that cut him to the heart. "All I ask of my Queen and my Kingdom—all I've ever asked—is justice, My Lord. That's all I have a right to ask for, but I have a right to it. Isn't that what's supposed to separate us from the Peeps?" He winced, and she went on in that soft, pleading voice. "I don't understand politics, Sir. I don't understand what gives a Pavel Young the right to destroy everything he touches and hide behind the importance of compromise and political consensus. But I understand duty and common decency. I understand justice, and if no one else can give it to me, then just this once I'll take it for myself, whatever it costs."
"And you'll end your career." It was White Haven's turn to plead. "You're right; duels are legal, and there won't be any criminal charges. You won't be court-martialed. But you'll be relieved of your command. It doesn't matter how justified your actions are. If you kill him, they'll take Nike away from you, Honor. They'll put you on the beach and let you rot there, and there won't be anything I or anyone else can do to stop them."
It was the first time he'd ever used her given name without any other title, and she knew, at last, that the rumors were true. Whether it was because of his friendship with Admiral Courvosier or simply because he believed in her she didn't know, but White Haven had made her career his personal project. Perhaps that meant she owed him agreement, or at least the careful consideration of his arguments, but this time—just this once—that was more than she had to give.
"I'm sorry, Sir," she said softly, her eyes begging, almost against her will, for his acceptance. "If my career is the price I have to pay, then I'll pay it. I'm out of options, and this time someone is going to call Pavel Young to account."
"I can't let you do that, Captain." The earl's voice was hard, harsher than she'd ever heard it, and anger glittered in his eyes. "You may be too pigheaded to realize it, but your career matters more than a dozen Pavel Youngs! Just because we're rolling the Peeps up right now doesn't mean we'll go on doing it forever, and you know it as well as I do! We're in a war for the very survival of this Kingdom, and the Navy's invested thirty years in you. You're a resource, Captain Harrington—a weapon—and you have no right—no right at all!—to throw that weapon away. You talk about duty, Captain? Well, your duty is to your Queen, not to yourself!"
Honor jerked back, her face bone-white, and opened her mouth, but his furious voice rolled over her like a hurricane.
"The Navy needs you. The Kingdom needs you. You've proven that every time you made the hard call, every time you pulled off one of your goddamned miracles! You have no right to turn your back on all of us to pursue your own, personal vendetta, whatever Pavel Young did to you!" He leaned even closer to his pickup, his eyes hard as stone. "The fact that you can't see that doesn't make it any less true, Captain, and I am ordering you—ordering you, as your superior officer—not to challenge the Earl of North Hollow to a duel!"