Page 15 of A Slipper in the Smoke
“I suppose we might as well,” she’d suggested one afternoon. “It would give us something to do, at least, and your company is quite pleasing.”
It was high praise from Lucia, and he took it, but the relationship had come to an abrupt halt after an awkward coupling on the final night, wherein Lucia had told him immediately afterwards that she preferred the company of women.
It was not exactly the ego-boosting first time he’d hoped for.
Nevertheless, after a brief period of awkwardness, they’d remained friends over the years, occasionally exchanging letters—which was more than Pip could say about Nero.
“There you are!”
Lucia entered the glade in a swish of golden skirts. She had generous curves and the same warm brown skin as her brother, though her hair was several shades lighter, a thousand tight spirals of amber, chestnut, mahogany, piled on top of her head and studded with hairpins shaped like suns. She had the appearance of an autumn forest at dawn, although her expression was as frosty as ever.
One of Pip’s cousins, the Marquis of Belcover, long fancied himself a poet. He’d described her as “sunlight given shape” and whilst Pip could see it in her figure and costume, it was devoid in her countenance; that, or the Marquis had forgotten quite how harsh sunlight could be.
Nero steeled himself. “Lucia, darling sister, you look as wonderful as ever—”
“Spare me,” she snapped. “Why did I pass a half-dressed guard on my way here?”
“Perhaps she slipped and—”
She groaned. “Nero, I don’t object to the immorality of your life, merely it’s messiness.”
Nero pouted. “I’m not messy.”
“Many a woman would disagree. Which reminds me; the Queen wishes to see you.”
At this, Nero froze. It was different from his reaction to Lucia’s appearance, half put on. This pause was harder, sharper, ice to a flake of frost. “Well,” he said, with a too-broad smile, “I suppose I best not keep her waiting.”
He smoothed down his corset-jacket and strode off down the path.
Lucia turned to Pip, her sharpness softening. “Croquet’s about to start soon. Shall we walk there together?”
“Only if it sets off a scandal,” Pip declared, offering Lucia his arm.
She smiled, tucking her hand under his arm, and gathering her skirts with the other. Her movements were like water, controlled and elegant, but with a power to them, too. Pip had no doubt she could crush most beneath her.
“How are you, Pip?” Lucia asked, with the gentleness of a stream. “I haven’t spoken to you in a while. Is your father—”
“My father is fine,” he reported.Or at least, no worse.
Lucia nodded. “I appreciate that you may wish to keep a brave face in front of the others, that you may even have been advised to, but… I wouldn’t speak to anyone else, if you needed a confidante. That is all.”
Pip could think of nothing to say to that. The truth of the matter was he wished there was someone he could speak to, someone other than Susan, who might not know what to say or offer purely practical advice. But it could not be Lucia. He wanted to believe her when she said she would keep his secret—she had given him no reason to think she was untrustworthy—but it was simply not a risk he could take.
Besides, it might be nothing. It was best not to fret until they knew what.
Lucia switched topics, remarking on latest gossip instead, who was rumoured to be sleeping with who, a new ball gown she’d ordered, what was reported to be on the menu for dinner. She stayed away from politics or anything heavy, even though she had more of a mind for those things than her brother.
It was a bright day, but a cloud lodged itself in Pip’s chest, and no amount of idle chatter and croquet on the lawns could remove it.
Lunch was quiet, Nero still missing and Lucia engaged in conversation with the Duchess of Ishmael. He chatted amongst the other young nobles instead, retired to his chambers for a much-needed siesta, and was woken mid-afternoon by Susan who needed his attention on some paperwork.
Pip groaned. “Idespisepaperwork.”
“It makes the world go round.”
“First rule I’m going to instigate when I become king? Dispense of the whole blasted business.”
“Good luck issuing laws withoutpaper,” Susan admonished, shaking her head. “Oh, and the Duke of Veronia has requested you join him for a drink before dinner.”
