Garlic had joined them on the bed, and Blake reached out to pet him. ‘Such an effort would be a complete waste. The most a merchant like me can expect from a man of his rank is an unwanted pregnancy.’ Though, after her conversation with Lyndal, Blake had done the math and figured out that her courses had stopped also.
‘Close your eyes,’ Lyndal said, using her finger to brush the paste along Blake’s eyelids all the way to her hairline. ‘Do you think that’s what he wants from you?’
Blake opened her eyes. ‘What?’
‘Do you think he’s the kind of man who ruins and discards women?’
‘I barely know him.’ Perhaps he was that man, though her gut told her otherwise. He was more protective of her than Kingsley had been when he was alive.
‘Lips together,’ Lyndal said.
Blake pressed her lips together to smooth out the red paste.
‘I have some tea leaves for your lashes,’ Lyndal said. ‘Just remember not to rub your eyes.’
Blake watched her as she walked over to the drawer to fetch it. ‘What about during gameball? Is all this going to be a mess of colour on my face.’
‘Probably. That’s the price you pay for getting involved in men’s sports.’
‘Blame Eda.’
Lyndal sat back down on the bed. ‘Oh, shush. You’re the older sister here. You could have told her no.’
Blake sighed. ‘Except that I’ve lost the ability to deny her anything.’
‘And it shows. She’s like a little outlaw, terrorising the borough. You better keep a close eye on her today, because Mother has completely lost control of her. She listens to you—occasionally.’ She rose from the bed, pulling Blake up with her. ‘If the sun doesn’t pour through the clouds when you step into that borough, I will be very surprised.’
Blake turned to look in the mirror. ‘I’ll settle for the rain stopping for a few hours.’ She barely recognised the woman looking back at her. There was something mature about her, something… alluring. ‘I’m going to freeze.’
‘You can wear my red cloak to and from.’ She rested her chin on Blake’s shoulder. ‘I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I think it’s nice he likes you—even if nothing can ever come of it.’
‘You’re only saying that because he sent oil and a cabbage to the house last night.’
Lyndal pinched her arm. ‘No. I just think any man who makes you see yourself as the rest of us do is a hero.’
Blake turned to face her. ‘What did I do to deserve such a sister?’
‘I honestly can’t think of one thing.’
It was Blake’s turn to pinch her. ‘It will be a lucky man who wins you.’
Lyndal laughed the comment off. ‘I really just want to have some fun today. Constantly looking ahead to the next disaster is exhausting. I’ll say yes to every man who asks me to dance and laugh so much it sustains me for the rest of this miserable year.’
‘If you say yes to every man who asks you to dance today, you’ll be unable to walk home. I won’t be carrying you on my back like Kingsley did last year.’
His name hung in the air between them. Their smiles faded.
‘I miss him,’ Lyndal said. ‘Every day. Sometimes I put five spoons out for dinner instead of four, and when I remember, it feels like he’s died all over again.’
Blake took her hand and pressed it to her heart. ‘I miss him too.’
They were silent a moment. Then Lyndal’s eyes fell to the hand Blake was holding.
‘Dear God. Your breasts are a pillow of flesh propping up my hand.’
Blake let go and turned away. ‘Changing now.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ Lyndal called to her back. ‘They’ll make the perfect headrest for the walk home.’
