She flushes, again prettily. “Not this week.”
He refuses to be anywhere in public with her. Outdoor fucking is acceptable though, it appears. My brother’s standards are questionable.
I rest my head back against the sofa and look around the room, so entirely normal. The grandeur is saved for where the visitors see. Here it’s meant to be like a normal home.
“You think he’s using me, don’t you?” Elise says, her eyes fixed on me as if I’m about to give away crucial information.
“I know my brother. He likes sleeping with pretty girls.” She’ll take the compliment and preen.
“I think I mean more to him than that. We have known each other forever, Blair. We’ve practically grown up together.”
I could feel sorry for her because she’s becoming another of his groupies, hoping for a crumb of his attention. I don’t, because she seen enough of what Lennox’s like and if she has her heart broken, I’ll struggle to sympathise.
“He’ll marry someone with a title.” He’s said as much. Commoners can make perfect queens, our mother is proof of this, but that isn’t what Lennox wants. He wants a wife who has history within her family, preferably English because in his mind he’s going to be the one to reunite the North and the South through peace treaties and trade deals and free movement of people.
“I think he’ll marry for love. He’s not as cold-hearted as you think.”
She giggles and it goes through me, finger nails on a chalk board. I don’t need to know anything more about my brother’s sex-life.
“Elise, you haven’t been on a date with him. He keeps you hidden.”
“But that doesn’t mean anything. He’s never seen with any women.” She doesn’t sound worried. In her head she will have already justified all of this. “And we’re getting closer. He’s telling me more about him and how he’s feeling.”
Lennox can be an open book. He tells me how he feels or what he thinks but it doesn’t mean anyone is any more special than the person he told before.
“Has he talked about Isaac Everleigh?” I decide to change the subject.
Her eyes narrow. “A little. He’s William’s friend, isn’t he?”
I nod. Wait.
“He’s mentioned Ben a lot. Apparently Murray was against him being appointed but your father overruled him.”
This was no surprise. “What else has Lennox said about Isaac and Ben?”
She picks up her book but doesn’t look at it. I hear footsteps heading towards the door and wonder if the book really is for show, but I’m not sure who for. Lennox wouldn’t care for French literature. He barely reads unless it’s the news or a policy.
“He’s talked more about William. I think he’s keen for the two of you to get on. Just think, you could be the wife of the leader of England and I could be queen here. Think what that would do for peace.”
I stand then move away, head to the window. Elise is all shiny darkness and flickers of zinc and chips of gold. There have been times while we were growing up that she was closer to me than family; my confidante and friend, the person I trusted more than anyone and the one who was my anchor.
She lies on the sofa with her book, eyes glazed over and I’m sure she’s waiting for someone, that this is a scene.
“Do you remember Madame Beringer at school?” The atmosphere is too thick, potent. I want to diffuse it, like normal.
“The mad French woman whose husband pushed her round the hypermarket in a shopping trolley?” She puts her book back down. “I caught her smoking out of the window once in the storeroom between two classrooms.”
“The boys used to say she didn’t have underwear on and she wore short skirts on purpose.”
“The boys were probably fantasising about it being a reality. She was pretty attractive.” She had been, all big breasts and neat dark hair. “I know Lennox had a real thing for her.”
Elise’s expression changes and I see jealousy, which isn’t green, but yellow. Fear.
“My brother had a thing for most attractive women, Lise. Don’t stew yourself over a teacher we had ten years ago.”
She shakes her head. “I wasn’t.”
The door opens and Lennox enters, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, looking like he’s been working out.
