Page 70 of Infamous

They followed the slope downwards, slipping in the dark, wet mud, which had combined with the thick layer of fallen leaves to become a treacherous ground stew. It was impossible to look for footprints in the mire; they simply had to hope that Juno had made some logical choices in her journeying and taken the path of least resistance, rather than following the whims of a passing bird or squirrel.

There was a brief scuffle in a nearby bush, followed by the panicked flight of a fat wood pigeon that set off with surprising speed and nimbleness through the trees; a second later the dog appeared, looking exceedingly pleased with herself, plastered in mud from nose to tail.

‘There you are, you mad thing!’ Eddie cried, crouching down to greet her and almost being knocked over for her trouble. ‘Where have youbeenall day?’

‘Wallowing in a swamp like a hairy hydra, by the looks of her paws,’ said Dayo, patting the dog on the head and then wiping his hand on his coat.

Juno harrumphed happily and then, without warning, dived merrily back into the underbrush, causing both Dayo and Eddie to swear in unison and then head after her in hot pursuit. They crashed through the trees, through shallow puddles and whipping branches, calling her name and straining to keep sight of the wagging tail up ahead.

‘For the love of Christ,’ Dayo said, sounding like he had a mouthful of miscellaneous detritus. ‘Whatever demon they called upon last night during their phallic chalk rituals has clearly taken hold of this dog.’

Juno only barked happily in reply; Eddie followed her over a small hillock, and when she emerged on the other side, immediately saw that she had been leading them to her master.

The scene didn’t quite make sense. Henry was sitting on a fallen tree, bright red and with an oddly evasive expression, eyes fixed on the ground. Nash had been standing directly in front of him, so close that he was almost bracketed by Henry’s knees. When Juno barrelled into him, even after an entire afternoon spent searching for her in the rain, he looked slightly irritated rather than relieved.

‘We found her,’ Eddie said breathlessly, breaking the strange silence that had greeted her.

Dayo had caught up and was brushing down his clothes, also breathing heavily.

‘It looks as ifshefound you,’ said Nash, giving Juno a cursory scratch behind the ear and grimacing when his hand came back covered in mud. ‘What on earth are you doing out here?’

‘Looking for your dog,’ Dayo said, sounding very unimpressed. ‘Miss Li was kind enough to rally the troops to help you.’

‘Oh,’ said Nash, rubbing at the back of his head and glancing up in the vague direction of the house. ‘Very good. Well, as you can see, all present and accounted for, so I suppose we’d better go back.’

Eddie felt very deflated after the chase, and perplexed at Nash’s understated reaction; they trudged homewards in silence, Henry overtaking them all early on and marching with his head down, Juno keeping pace with him. She looked entirely unbothered by the fuss, clearly thinking that they had all just spontaneously decided to join her for a rainy jaunt and were now heading in for a touch of supper.

*

Nash proved difficult to track down for the rest of the day. Eddie felt that their conversation that morning had been left rather unfinished, the questions that she had been too tired to articulate now burning a hole in her tongue, but although she kept moving from room to room in the hope of catching him, he remained at large. She did catch a few glimpses of Henry, going about his tasks with a grim expression on his face; at one point, Mr Morris had to ask him three times to bring a stepladder up to the long gallery, and he shook his head as if he had been sleepwalking before acquiescing.

Kitty had taken up her painting and her supplies and moved right back into the South Parlour, despite the fact that the main feature of the room was now the enormous, jagged hole in one of the windows, which had been hastily covered with a large sheet. It was sodden, the wind making it bend and billow, and was sporadically admitting rain through the gaps. The servants had been hard at work; other signs that a raucous party had taken place, followed by an even more raucous argument, were few and far between. Occasionally Eddie came across a wine stain – or what shehopedwas wine – or some other piece of more permanent damage that they had been unable to eradicate in just one day. On her way to the drawing room, Eddie realised that somebody had inked little hats on to all the horses in what she was sure was a priceless oil painting of a grand battle. Valentine had gone back to bed, Dayo was likely bent over a desk somewhere making the most of the peace to write, and Rose had sat and sketched with Kitty for a while until the cold overcame her, and was now playing cards with Albert in the drawing room, Juno happily asleep with her head resting on Rose’s left foot. Eddie sat in the corner, listening to the soothing sound of their game, writing in unproductive little bursts and frequently finding herself distracted watching how the two of them were together.

She supposed that in some ways it must have been easier than a romantic attachment: knowing the limits and parameters up front, clearly stating their hopes and expectations and making an agreement that was mutually beneficial. It was so unlike regular courting, during which the realities of long-term cohabitation and people’s true natures were so often secondary to putting best feet forward in the hope that prospective partners found said feet easy on the eyes.

Eddie tried to imagine herself feeling so at ease with somebody – knowing she would wake up with them every morning, pass the newspaper back and forth, watch them brush their hair and take medicine for their headaches and forget their hat when leaving for parties – and could only see Rose. There was nobody else she wanted to share these ordinary and wonderful mundanities with. In an instant she was there, handing Rose the brush and the medicine, waiting outside on the path as she fetched her hat, and then taking her arm with a smile as they went on their way.

Despite what she knew about Rose and Albert’s attachment, she could not help but feel jealous of the life they were planning together; of the fact that Albert wouldget to claim Rose above all others; of the way they laid out their cards in silence, content, wanting nothing more from each other than that they were happy to give.

Albert had Rose’s hand in marriage, and Isabella Cliffe had her attention. What did that leave?

‘Eddie,’ said Rose, glancing up briefly before going back to her hand. ‘Please stop staring at us, you’ll give me a complex.’

Unable to commit to this, Eddie decided to take her manuscript for another walk, hoping that inspiration might strike if the temperature in some part of the house felt more amenable, or the light caught her quill just right. Instead she walked right into Nash, who was exiting the kitchen with fruit cake stuffed into his mouth, half of which fell out when he saw Eddie.

‘Ah,’ he said, having removed the other half. ‘Well met, Edie.’

Eddie grimaced at him. ‘I have been meaning to catch you all day.’

‘Right,’ said Nash. ‘Of course. Shall we .?.?.?’

He gestured down the corridor in the direction of the library, and they made their way there in silence.

‘Are you trying to avoid me?’ she blurted out as the heavy door shut behind them, regretting it at once.

Nash sighed, pulling out a book and flipping it over briefly before returning it to the shelf.

‘Avoid you? Why on earth would I? And, for that matter,howcould I .?.?.? We are all trapped here on this minuscule island together, are we not?’