They arrived so early that Matthew answered the parish doors still in his pajamas, bleary-eyed and with one pink cheek lined from the creases of his pillow.
“It’s still dark outside,” he’d said, stifling a yawn as he already turned around to retreat back to his bed, leaving the door to the sanctuary open and Vix to do as she pleased with her little coterie of mischief.
“Goodness,” said Rosalind quietly, blinking and craning to watch him go. “Wasthatthe vicar? He’s so young!”
“He looks exactly that rumpled in full vestments too,” Vix told her. “Careful, don’t let the dress drag.”
“Have you not met Father Matthew?” Hannah whispered, blinking at Rosalind with a worrying glint in her eye that made Vix immediately glare at her. “Rosalind, he married me to Thaddeus. You were there.”
“Yes, but so were so many other people,” the other woman protested. “And my brother sat in front of me. He’s so tall.”
Mae yawned. Loudly. And shook her head with a bit of force in an attempt to scatter the sleep off her skin.
“Up late last night?” Vix asked her, leading them down the hall and into the little bridal chamber with the vanity tables. “Spending time withZofloya?”
Mae tittered. “Not as much as I’d like. I do enjoy when the seductive demons are men. Mixes things up a bit, but don’t think I’ve overlooked the excessive mentions of how dark his skin is.”
“You’re onto another scandalous book?” Hannah demanded with a frown. “I still haven’t finishedThe Monk!”
“Oh, you must,” whispered Rosalind. “Ambrosio is so tragic.”
“And broad,” Mae added with a little sigh. “Very broad.”
There was a collection of stifled giggling as Rosalind draped the wedding dress over one of Matthew’s many chairs and started opening the curtains, though there was not much sunlight to speak of to let into the room.
“Have you mistakenly called your intended Ambrosio yet in a moment of passion?” Mae asked, tilting her head with a curling grin. “I would have by now.”
Vix choked a little, turning to gape at the other woman. “No! Good Lord, and now I might. Thank you for that, Mae. You continue to enchant my life.”
“Well, his name is very close,” Rosalind said reasonably, collapsing into yet another chair in a puff of ribbons and ruffles. “Ambrose. Ambrosio. It would be an honest mistake.”
“And the heroine ofZofloya,” Mae said, tapping her chin. “What is her name again?”
“Silence, both of you,” Vix instructed, whipping her little leather valise around and dropping it on the vanity stool. “We’ve much to do.”
“Whatisher name?” Hannah whispered to Mae. “Is it Victoria?”
“Mae, I swear on the sanctity of this church,” Vix said, turning back to find the other woman grinning and nodding. “Why did I invite you?”
“Because you wanted me to remind you of all the useful parts ofZofloyaandThe Monkand so on before you get home tonight,” Mae told her soothingly. “Right?”
“You are the most anatomically trained of us,” Rosalind said earnestly, blinking like she didn’t know she was doing mischief.
“Rosalind!” the other three exclaimed, making her give a tiny, curving smile, as though she’d finally scored the first point in a game no one realized they were playing.
“Those books are never useful anyway,” Rosalind continued, tilting her ringlet-covered head to the side. “They embrace. They gasp. Then the chapter ends with nothing but implication. It is maddening, isn’t it?”
“Not all of them,” said Mae in a tone of dark promise.
“Oh?” Rosalind asked, her voice barely a squeak.
“I still haven’t finishedThe Monk!” Hannah exclaimed. “And I can tell you whatever it is you want to know. I am the married one, aren’t I?”
“No,” Vix said, recoiling in visceral horror at Hannah’s deflating frown. “Not you. Not my brother’s lover. Don’t taint my wedding day.”
“Or night,” Mae added helpfully.
“Ugh,” said Vix, tossing open the valise and rummaging through it for her curling wand. “Someone start a kettle.”
