Page 54 of Infamous

Eddie was extremely alarmed when she came across two blonde women who seemed to be merrily bleeding out all over their dove-grey gowns; it was only when she saw one of them lift a hand to be delicately licked by one of their companions that she realised they were not in fact covered in vital fluids.

‘It’s beetroot,’ she heard one of them say, grinning wickedly; the gentleman who had licked her grinned back, his teeth stained lurid pink.

Eddie made her way towards the dining room, feeling more as though she were swimming than walking, having to engage both arms to politely shove people out of the way. When she reached it, she found Nash within, sitting at the head of the table playing some kind of card game. Spectators were crammed around the walls, drinking and whispering; Juno was lying by the fire, looking harried.

Eddie went to pet the dog but found her path blocked by Nash’s arm, which had shot out to stop her lightning-fast.

‘Edie, Edie, Edie,’ he said; he sounded solemn, but when she looked down at him, she saw that his eyes were sparkling darkly under his hat. ‘How are you at vingt-et-un? I foolishly appointed Mr Crawley as banker, and I suspect he plans to rinse me for all I’m worth.’

‘I have never played,’ Eddie said, glancing up at the stern faces of the men sitting around the table. ‘I don’t suppose it would do you any good to have me on your side.’

‘On the contrary, Edie, I imagine your presence would befrightfullygood luck.’

‘Nash,’ said the man dealing out cards, raising an eyebrow, ‘either invite the lady to sit upon your knee to entertain us all, or gather your wits and place your bet.’

All the joy of being claimed by Nash in front of his friends immediately dissipated. If Eddie had hackles, they would have risen – but Nash just laughed, removing his arm and picking up his card instead. Eddie’s jaw worked for a second as she considered a rebuke, but it was too late, and she knew instinctively that the room would be against her; instead, she glanced down at the dog.

‘Come on, Juno,’ she said imperiously; luckily, Juno seemed glad of an excuse to leave, and followed her with her head pressed into Eddie’s leg until they reached the busy hallway. The dog seemed to know where she was going from there, and pushed on through the crowd, Eddie using her as a canine battering ram and apologising vaguely to the people who were knocked aside. Juno led her up the stairs and towards the billiard room, nosing the door open and immediately disappearing within. When Eddie entered, she found that Dayo, Albert and Rose were all sitting inside on various surfaces, talking quietly to a handful of guests who had also apparently sought refuge from the madness on the ground floor. Some of them were around Albert’s age – people who looked as if they had come seeking stimulating conversation and good company, rather than satanic rituals in the entrance hall – and Eddie was surprised to find herself relieved at the relative quiet.

Rose was speaking to a woman a few years older than her, at least five-and-twenty. She had on men’s clothes: dark breeches and a waistcoat to match, a cravat hanging loose at her collar. Eddie was immediately struck with admiration and white-hot envy; why hadshenever considered that she might be allowed to wear men’s clothes? Not at home, of course, but here at Nash’s, where anything seemed possible?

She thought of Nash, shaking his head and laughing and refusing to call herEddie, and decided that perhaps it was one impossible thing too far.

‘Oh, speak of the .?.?. This is Eddie,’ Rose said. She was slightly flushed, an untouched glass of wine in her hand, looking frankly luminous surrounded by everybody else clothed in gloom. ‘I mean, Miss Miller. No, I mean .?.?. Eddie, this is Miss Isabella Cliffe—’

‘Bella,’ said the woman, offering a hand to be shaken. Eddie took it, dazed, and was on the receiving end of a strong and enthusiastic shake. ‘Your Miss Li was just telling me that you’re a writer.’

‘Allegedly,’ Eddie said.

Bella was leaning against the dressing table that Rose was perched on, her hand on the back of the chair; it was perfectly innocent, but there was something about the sight of this tableau that made Eddie’s brain itch unpleasantly. It was all a little toofamiliar, for two people who had only just met.

‘Gosh, well, you must tell me more – I am aravenousreader, and I am always in search of more women to read. I suppose you’ve readThe Modern Prometheus? It was positively shredded in theCritic, and for all the wrong reasons .?.?.’

‘I have,’ said Eddie.

Both Rose and Bella sat waiting for her to say something in addition, but she just crossed her arms and looked down at Juno, who was sitting faithfully at her feet.

‘Well,’ said Rose into the too-long silence, looking desperate. ‘I felt dreadfully sorry for the beast. What was his name? Victor?’

‘Victor was the doctor, not the creature.’

‘Well, what was the creature’s name?’

‘Ah,’ said Bella. ‘He was called .?.?. the creature, mostly.’

‘I see,’ said Rose.

There was another silence, during which Eddie watched Albert lean in to listen to the tall, thin and greying Indian gentleman he was speaking to and then laugh heartily, pressing a hand to his mouth. His cheeks were very red.

Bella slapped a hand against her knee as if she had just recalled something.

‘You mentioned a tour?’

‘Yes!’ said Rose, immediately slipping from the table. She looked far too happy to have an excuse to leave. ‘Yes, of course. Come with me. Eddie doesn’t need a tour, she’s been rattling around the place like I have for the past fortnight.’

Juno, instantly transforming from comrade to traitor, lifted her head and went with them.

Eddie was left standing by the dressing table looking and feeling bemused, as if some sort of sleight of hand had just been performed under her nose. She considered inserting herself into Dayo’s or Albert’s conversations, but they both looked engaged, and happily so. Instead, she squared her shoulders and made her way back into the fray.