“Tempie,” I whispered again.
She took in a delicate breath before saying, “In the powder room next to the parlor, there’s a drawer in the vanity. I secret my lipstick and a compact in there and nip to the loo if I need a touchup.”
And we were done with story time.
I was glad.
Though I was also honored.
“Thank you,” I said.
She inclined her head again and started to leave.
But that was when something else hit me.
“Chastity told Battle she didn’t want to go to Glastonbury.”
Temperance turned back to me. “No. She told me. I told Battle. And Battle, as he always does, handled it.”
This was why they were in their own world at dinner last night.
Whatever happened between big brother and baby sister, he had to continue to nurture it, or she wouldn’t have gone.
Therefore, this was why he had no mind to pay to me, or, as I hadn’t noticed at the time…anybody, but Chastity.
One of several reasons why Temperance was right there with me.
“You’re quite the multi-tasker,” I noted.
“I try,” she replied. “And in that regard, rest assured, Chelsea Renfrew is a sheep in wolf’s clothing, though she firmly believes it’s the other way around.”
Good to know.
I nodded.
“However,” Tempie went on, “Battie is a wolf in wolf’s clothing. If she steps over the line he’s drawn that she will more than likely not see, he will not countenance it. No, Vivienne. Be warned, he’ll not delay. And when the time comes, he’ll eviscerate her.”
“What you’re saying is, I have nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing at all.”
I struggled with what to say next, and decided on, “I’m not a big fan of being drawn into this.”
“Courtney is a friend of mine. I told her you were here. I told her you were lovely. I also told her it seemed my brother agreed. Unwisely, it seems she shared this with Chelsea and Chelsea wasted no time in setting up her next play. Then again, Courtney is one of the few in our set Chelsea hasn’t used up…yet. Though, I think that happened this afternoon. However, Courtney didn’t have any idea she’d been set up. Until she did.”
I harked back to an earlier part of what she said.
“Your brother agrees?”
Her brows drew down, she tipped her head to the side, and she drawled a highly sardonic, “Dear.”
Hang on.
Was Battle…genuinely into me?
I. Am. Not. Playing. Games.
Oh God.
