Sybil never shut up long enough for him to speak, which suited him just fine. He was always ready, however, when Mae glanced at him. His eyes were always fixed on her, ready to meet hers should they turn in his direction.
At first, it seemed to spook her, making her fidget and blush, but by the time they rounded the final corner toward their destination, she had started to smile to herself every time she caught him watching, those dimples flickering into her cheeks.
And to his ultimate doom, he found himself starting to smile about it too.
CHAPTER 13
Truth be told, Mae had completely forgotten about the summer fundraising picnic for the clinic until Roland had mentioned it on that heady walk to the morgue.
She supposed she had assumed, with all the trouble lately, that it would have to be skipped this year or at the very least postponed. Yet, here she was, cradled in the cushioned embrace of an armchair in the parish house of Holy Comfort Church near Covent Garden while Rosalind Everly chattered excitedly about what kind of pie she wanted to make this year.
When Mae had mentioned her reservations and assumptions, Rosalind had scoffed and shaken her sandy curls with fervor. “Matthew would never hear of it,” she said of her husband, the vicar. “Canceling because of a clutch of bullies. Absolutely not. It is happening and it will be much better than last year.”
“You would have to make a concerted effort for it to be worse than last year,” Vix Aster had said, raising her dark brows. “You had a limp after that picnic for over a month.”
“But she got a husband too,” Hannah pointed out, smiling over her teacup. “Not a bad trade. The limp was temporary.”
“Hm,” said Rosalind thoughtfully, clicking her nail against her own teacup, “and Matthew certainly is not. Yes, I agree. Good trade. Oh! Speaking of which.”
And at that, she’d stood and vanished up the stairs, leaving them all staring after her flurry of ruffles and ribbons in anticipation until, a few moments later, she skipped back down, grinning, and held the silver thimble out to Vix.
Vix blinked a few times, not moving from her overly postured perch on the edge of a sofa cushion. “What are you doing?”
Rosalind frowned, looking down at the thimble as though it had lied to her and back up to Vix with her brow furrowed. “Well, I did my bit. Abe is working on the case now. So I thought I had to give it back.”
“No, you silly mink,” Vix said, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. “You must demand something from whomever you give it to. That is how it works. What would you ask of me?”
“Oh,” said Rosalind, blinking. “You could also bring a pie, I suppose?”
“Absolutely not,” Hannah said, cutting in and reaching forward to take Rosalind’s wrist before Vix could snatch the thimble on the pie demand. “Ask for something meaningful, Rosalind. That is the point of the game.”
Mae was watching this exchange with narrowed eyes. “Why hasn’t anyone given that to me?” she asked, so suddenly, it brought all three other heads around with surprise. “I didn’t even know what it was until Mr. Reed told me.”
“Oh,” Vix said, a wicked little grin curling at the corners of her lips. “Is he speaking to you now? Do tell us everything.”
“Vix, that isn’t what I asked,” Mae snapped.
“Oh, but is he?” Hannah put in, sounding altogether too breathless. “I thought perhaps the gunshot incident would do it, at long last.”
“What else has he said?” Rosalind pressed, closing her hand over the thimble and turning to Mae. “Has he wooed you?”
“The thimble!” Mae snapped, her cheeks flaming hot. “Why hasn’t anyone given it to me?!”
Vix gave a sigh, a roll of the eyes, and a click of the tongue. “Because you would misappropriate it, Casper. Obviously. You can’t be trusted with mischief.”
“Oh, I can’t, but sweet Rosalind can?!” Mae balked. “She wouldn’t prank the devil himself. She’d feel bad about it.”
Rosalind blinked a few times. “I likely would, at that. Chiel’s already been through quite a lot, hasn’t he?”
“I want it,” said Mae. “I could have many uses for it.”
“You could,” Vix said, considering Mae with a steely glint in her dark eyes. “But I suspect all the ideas you have involve passing the thimble to Roland, which we cannot do right now. He has vowed to chuck it into the Thames the instant it enters his custody.”
“Ah, not very sporting,” said Hannah with a little sigh. “He is a bit of a hypocrite, isn’t he?”
Vix tittered. “Oh. A bit.”
Mae raised her brows. “What does that mean?”
