As far as cuts went, Kuni had suffered this one far too many times for it to still be able to wound her. One of her brothers’ favorite childhood tricks was pretending their sister wasn’t right in front of their faces, begging to be noticed, to be important, to be needed.
She would not humiliate herself like that again. If Marjorie preferred to abstain from Kuni’s company, then maintaining distance would be best for them both. Princess Mechtilda needed her. Kuni would be valued again soon enough.
She turned away, intending to slip past Marjorie and down to the ground floor.
Marjorie let out a high-pitched “Eep!” and stumbled back against the wall, one hand clutched to her chest.
Kuni raised her brows. “You did not hear me speaking into your ear?”
“That’s the one that doesn’t work right.” Marjorie touched the opposite ear. “This is the good one.”
“Oh.” Kuni’s neck and cheeks heated. It hadn’t been a slight after all. Kuni was the one who owed the apology. “I am sorry for startling you.”
Marjorie shook her head. “I could have warned you earlier. I do hear in that ear a little, but not when I am in noisy places, and I’m afraid you caught me in the noisiest place of all—lost in my own imagination.”
“I’m sorry,” Kuni said again.
This must be how mere loungers had managed to sneak up on her. An unfair advantage she was suretheywouldn’t be sorry about at all. Kuni was doubly glad to have tossed them in the muck.
“If you want me to accept your apology, then don’t act awkward about it. The reason I didn’t warn you is because so many people then change how they speak, and begin talking too slow or too loudly or exaggerating their lips, all of which makes it harder to understand. As long as I’m looking at you and you’re speaking normally, neither of us will have a problem.”
“Sign language.”The pieces fit together. “When I first met your brother, he thought I was deaf and tried to talk to me using his hands.”
Marjorie nodded. “The entire family can sign. Bean—er, Baron Vanderbean—sent me to a special school so that I could learn. The whole family learned it with me. Even some of the staff.”
“Why did they, if you can hear?”
“Mostly hear,” Marjorie corrected. “A childhood bout of smallpox damaged the inside of my ears. Bean wanted us to be prepared in case my hearing worsened. Luckily, it has stayed the same. And signs have proved a useful tool to have.”
“I can imagine,” Kuni said. “Or rather, Icannotimagine what trouble you Wynchesters get into that requires sign language to get you out of.”
“Lots of trouble.” Marjorie smiled. “Many, many times.”
“Can you teach some to me?” Kuni asked eagerly, then winced. “Is that a gauche request?”
“Not gauche,” Marjorie assured her. “Common. But most people haven’t the patience to learn more than a sign or two, or perhaps the alphabet. I’d wageryouwould put in the effort necessary, but I fear you wouldn’t find the results useful after you leave.”
“Would you teach me some signs anyway?”
“That depends.” Marjorie flexed her fingers as though preparing for battle. “Which words would you like to learn?”
“The ones you would suggest most useful to know.”
Marjorie grinned. “In that case, yes. I should be happy to. Come upstairs with me. You can practice whilst I paint.”
Kuni started to ask a question as she followed Marjorie up the stairs, then held her tongue until they were facing each other again.
Marjorie’s art studio was awash in color and canvases and easels, with barely enough free room to walk or sit—save for a plush green chaise longue. Kuni wasn’t certain if that was where models and visitors were invited to repose, or where Marjorie collapsed in exhaustion after spending all day and night painting. Perhaps both.
“Before we begin…” Marjorie turned to Kuni. “Signs are just as regional as spoken languages. Why learn English sign language, if the Balcovian version will be completely different?”
“It has nothing to do with Balcovia. I haven’t the least notion what it must be like not to hear well, but I do know what it is like not to fully understand the conversations going on around me. Ever since I stepped off the boat. Even meals with your siblings can be impossible to follow. Sometimes I cannot make any chocolate from your fast words.”
It was Marjorie’s turn to look contrite. “Oh, I am so sorry. I’ll tell them to—”
“Please don’t,” Kuni said. “It will get better. I do not want them to talk to me like I’m a baby. Itwouldbe easier if only one person spoke at a time, but the rest of London will remain noisy and chaotic. I want to be able to follow along. In English, and in sign language.”
“It’s not easy,” Marjorie warned. “The grammar is distinct.”
