Page 23 of Infamous

‘They are my guests,’ Nash said in a very dangerous tone, stepping in close to him; he was at least two inches taller, and the blonde man seemed to shrink slightly. ‘If you should like to insult them again, we can see how you manage it without any teeth.’

‘Nash,’ said Valentine, pushing people aside to reach them. Eddie could see Mr Rednock attempting to do the same. ‘Brawls. Constables. We have been over this. I believe short prison sentences were bandied about.’

‘Now look here,’ said the older gentleman, seeming on the verge of a bluster.

‘Apologise,’ Nash snapped, his gaze still fixed on the blonde man.

‘Whentheyare the interlopers atourclub?’ the man scoffed, glancing back at his friends, although he was visibly unsettled. ‘I think not.’

‘Ourclub, is it?’ said Nash, narrowing his eyes. Valentine’s words must have had some sort of impact; he no longer seemed about to do any punching. ‘Well, we shall see about that. I happen to have some very good friends here, I’m afraid. I do not recognise you, sir – what name shall I give, so that they might strike it from the book?’

The man looked at a loss for words. He seemed to have noticed the rather large crowd of Nash’s friends and supporters, who were still spilling out into the corridor behind him; his eyes were moving rapidly, as if he were doing some very quick calculations.

‘Well .?.?. it seems .?.?. I suppose apologies are in order,’ he said brusquely.

Nash crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow. ‘I’m afraid that wasn’t particularly convincing.’

‘I am sorry,’ he said stiffly, looking at Rose and Eddie properly now. ‘I apologise. It was .?.?. I was mistaken.’

‘Run along now,’ Nash said, as Mr Rednock reached Rose and put a protective hand on her elbow. ‘If I am ever unfortunate enough to encounter you again, we shall revisit the subject of urgent dental extractions.’

The man and his cohorts scuttled away to muted laughter and scattered applause from those watching. Rose was saying something to Mr Rednock in a low voice, her face still very red; Nash turned to Eddie and took her gently by both shoulders, his gaze roving around her face as if to ascertain if she had been somehow injured in this exchange.

‘Inciting skirmishes in the halls now are we, Miss Miller?’

‘Theydid all the inciting,’ said Eddie, trying and failing not to feel lit up from within by his attentions. ‘I am surprised you were able to see that we were under attack at all, over the heads ofquiteso many adoring admirers.’

‘Oh, don’t start,’ Nash said, giving her a bracing little shake and a fond smile. ‘Come on, trouble. Let’s fetch you a drink.’

Chapter Ten

Back when Eddie and Rose had become such firm friends that even a day or so apart felt like a deeply painful separation, Mrs Miller had at first rather half-heartedly tried to enforce the rules of decorum, which dictated that visits from the Li family necessitated a visit in return. Eventually, when Rose had started mysteriously arriving by herself and Mrs Miller quickly ascertained that Eddie had bribed the cook’s son to send Rose notes of invitation that didnotextend to her parents, an agreement had been struck up between the two families: as Mr Li was so often away from the house or locked up in his study on business, and Mrs Li often suffered from maladies of the stomach, Rose would visit the Millers for dinner whenever she wished, and Eddie would eat with the Lis every other Sunday.

Eddie looked forward to these Sundays enormously – even more so since Rose had insisted on transforming into a butterfly so social that her dinners at the Millers’ home were reduced to perhaps only one or two a week. No matter how busy she had become, no matter how many other social engagements she had or letters of thanks she was duty-bound to write after said engagements, Rose never once suggested that they postpone or cancel their fortnightly meals at her house.

The Sunday after the poetry reading, Eddie emerged from her bedroom, where she had been curled over her manuscript for hours, barely human, and scrubbed as much of the ink off her fingers as was possible without resorting to sanding them down like woodwork. Then she removed her bonnet from Beatrice’s head where she had been wearing it like a lampshade, and set off for dinner.

The Lis’ maid, Jemima, answered the door and ushered her into the modest house, taking her hat and cloak.

‘Profitable week, was it, Jem?’ said Eddie. Jemima winked.

‘I know how to pick ’em,’ she said. ‘Want me to put one on for you, next time?’

‘My mother has only just about recovered from the shock of having a daughter who’s unreasonably tall and frequently forgets the purpose of a hairbrush,’ said Eddie. ‘Let’s give her a few years before I add gambling on horses to the list, shall we?’

‘Your loss,’ said Jemima.

All three of the Lis were in the small, beautifully kept drawing room: Mr Li sitting by the window, frowning over a pile of papers and ledgers; Mrs Li bent over the low table that currently contained at least sixty miniature porcelain figurines of animals; and Rose pretending to read on the sofa while in reality looking over the top of her book at her mother.

‘There’s a horse missing,’ said Mrs Li. A lock of dark hair had escaped from its pins and she blew it out of the way, not even seeming to notice that Eddie had entered. ‘Isn’t there? Little Rosie, help me count the horses again.’

‘I am not helping you count the horses again,’ Rose said gently. ‘If a horse has gone astray, perhaps Jemima moved it when she was cleaning.’

‘Or perhaps she put it out to pasture,’ said Eddie. ‘Have you checked the garden?’

‘Good evening, Edith,’ said Mrs Li. Eddie thought she could have put at least ten per cent more effort into not sounding audibly disappointed to see her. ‘You haven’t seen my horse, have you?’

Eddie raised her eyebrows at Rose. The insinuation that she might have stolen one of Mrs Li’s prized ornaments – she collected them, and on the whole seemed to find counting and personally polishing them very soothing to her nerves – would have been deeply offensive if it weren’t for the fact that it was exactly the sort of thing Eddie might have done between the ages of eight and twelve.