After a moment, he gave a low groan. “Veronica, I am only human. You will have to wait at least an hour or two.”
“Not that. I was thinking about death again. About how sailors are always prepared for theirs, and that is why you wear your earring.”
“Hm...” His voice trailed off and I knew he was near the precipice of sleep.
“Well, I forbid you to die,” I told him. “I should not like that at all, you know. I have grown far too accustomed to you to do without you. But I do not think you should have to do without me. So I think we should make a pact. Neither of us is permitted to die without the other. What do you think?”
He wrapped his arms more tightly around me. “I promise. If I am ever near death, I vow to take you with me.”
“That is not precisely what I had in mind,” I began, but a soft snore told me the moment had passed. I continued to stroke his hair long into the night, reflecting that dying with him would be a very pleasant way to go indeed.
CHAPTER
19
The next day, I completed my ablutions and breakfast, preparing for a full morning’s work. Upon my desk lay a half-finished illustration of an eastern tiger swallowtail—Papilio glaucus—that begged completion to accompany my latest piece forThe Lady Lepidopterist’s Bi-Annual Journal.I was just preparing to settle to work when George, the hallboy, appeared, a bit out of breath. This was nothing unusual—the child never walked when he could run—but the sight of the tamarin perched on his head, clinging to his curls with both little fists was a bit out of the ordinary.
As soon as the monkey saw Stoker, it gave a little squeak of ecstasy and leapt from George’s head, brachiating gracefully across a series of clotheslines I had erected to dry a batch of watercolours until it dropped neatly onto Stoker’s shoulder. He gave it an absent pat, fishing in his pocket for a bit of honeycomb Cook had made up fresh for him only that morning. The creature took it in its sticky paws, licking it with finicky grace.
I glanced to George, surveying him with surprise. “George, your hair is wet. Is it raining?”
“No, miss,” he said woefully. “ ’Tis the monkey what did it.”
“Oh, dear. Well, if that is the worst atrocity she has perpetrated upon your person, count yourself lucky. I hear she bit the gardener last week.”
“And the auld Greek fella what lives in the pink castle,” George informed me. “But he says monkeys is lucky and we oughtn’t give her a good slap.”
“Spyridon is quite correct,” I told him firmly. “Monkeys are clever and, for the most part, clean.” I glanced to where the tamarin was grooming herself, extracting the odd flea and crushing it between her nails before popping it into her mouth like a sweetmeat. I suppressed a shudder. “Have you brought the post, George? We have had the third delivery and it seems early for the fourth.”
“Oh, no, miss,” George said, recollecting his errand. “You’ve visitors like. They are waiting outside until they are sure they are welcome. A Miss Tree and friend.”
“Miss Tree? Are you quite certain of the name?” I laid aside my pen and stripped off the linen sleeves I wore to protect my shirtwaist from ink and paint.
“No, miss,” George said comfortably. “It were a strange name, and that is all I heard of it. There is more, but I only remember the first bit.”
“That is enough,” I assured him. “Please invite Miss Trevelyan and Miss Elyot inside.”
In the few moments it took for George to fetch our visitors, Stoker dashed up the winding circular stair to the washroom to scrub the worst depredations of the morning’s work from his person. He had been at his labour for less than a quarter of an hour and already he bore traces of sawdust and glue, although mercifully he had not yet acquired the feathers, bits of fur, ink stains, or paint smudges he was certain to be sporting by the end of the day. I smoothed my skirts and tossed biscuits to the dogs to keep them quiet. One dog is a delight; five are a nuisance. I had just got them settled when our guests appeared. Undine Trevelyanwas dressed in a shade of green that made her look frankly bilious whilst Eliza Elyot, in black, was so pale as to seem translucent. Her pinned plait seemed almost too much for the slender neck, like a peony stem bowing under the weight of a heavy bloom. As she walked, she kept Undine’s hand tucked firmly under her arm.
“It was not my idea to come,” Miss Trevelyan said by way of greeting. “But Eliza insisted.”
“You are very welcome,” I told them both.
Eliza was looking about in frank astonishment. “This place is extraordinary. I have never seen anything like it.”
“It is a bit of a madhouse,” I said with a smile. “But it has its enchantments. Would you like a tour?”
“I should love one, but perhaps not today,” she said. Her lips were bloodlessly pale.
“Of course,” I told her. “If you think you can manage the stairs, it is far more comfortable in the snuggery.” I gestured towards the spiral staircase at the end of the gallery and she nodded, still holding tightly to Miss Trevelyan’s hand.
I followed them up the stairs, pleased to find Stoker had poked up the fire in the small tiled stove and put on a kettle. The cups were mismatched, assorted Wedgwood and Sèvres pieces from sets the Rosemorrans had long since broken. But the tea was hot and strong, the finest Assam, which I was pleased to see Miss Elyot took with two hefty lumps of sugar. She looked as if she needed nourishment, and with his instinctive courtesy, Stoker took out a tin of his favourite violet shortbread and offered it ’round. Undine seemed as if she could scarcely bring herself to accept our hospitality. She kept a weather eye upon her companion, waiting until some colour crept back into Eliza’s cheeks at the steam from the teacup before she unbent a little and accepted a cup for herself.
“I wanted to thank you both for your assistance last night,” Elizabegan. Her voice was low and halting. “I fear we were abominably rude to you.”
I was on the point of agreeing but I saw that Undine had raised her chin, clearly spoiling for a fight, so I smiled instead. “Not at all.”
“We were,” Eliza said with a flash of humour. “But you wanted to discuss my brother, and it’s been such a long time... that is, it is still so difficult...”