At this point, Rosalind evidently felt safe enough to scurry back to her place on the sofa, pushing back onto the cushions and taking her teacup back up with the thimble deposited daintily on the saucer whilst everyone was distracted.
Hannah snorted, shaking her head so that the copper color glinted in the afternoon light that came in through the parish house windows. “He delighted in instigating when I was after Thaddeus. He told me once that if he continued to resist, he’d sneak me into the Vixen personally for a confrontation. Actually, I think he didn’t say ‘resist,’ I think he said ‘continued to be a fool’ or ‘an idiot’ or something along those lines.”
Vix laughed outright at that. “Oh, I’m very vexed that I missed all of that. Did he do it?”
Hannah chuckled. “No, he didn’t have to. He caught us tangled up on the desk of the Fox very shortly thereafter. But he was always being sneaky and saying inflammatory things. At one point, Mr. Reed offered to walk me home when we were closing down the tented clinic, and Thaddeus replied that he would take the lady. Roland turned back and answered, ‘Thoroughly, I presume,” as though I was not standing right there, able to hear it in full.
“In truth, it was very funny and I enjoyed it. But it does not change the hypocrisy.”
“The desk,” Mae repeated, blinking several times, as though Hannah’s words were grit and sand that had suddenly been tossed into her eyes. “A versatile piece of furniture.”
Hannah giggled, covering her mouth and turning her big blue eyes to Mae. “Yes. It is, rather. You see, this is why I said Dinahcouldn’t come. We wouldn’t be able to have this talk if she were here.”
“You baby her,” Vix retorted, rolling her eyes. “What is the point? She’s more worldly than any of us were at that age.”
“She is much bluster. And in any event, the point is the attempt,” Hannah answered with a prim little sniff. “I’m certain Thaddeus tried the same with you.”
“Tried,” Vix repeated. “That is an apt word.”
Rosalind reached forward for the teapot, pouring herself another cup. She cut the tinkle of the liquid hitting porcelain with two lumps of sugar, and blinked up at Mae as though they were alone in the room. “Has he kissed you yet?”
“Rosalind!” Mae choked, her hand flying up to cover her throat, precisely where Roland’s hand had been when he’d done exactly that. “What a thing to say!”
It put a stopper in Vix and Hannah’s bicker, both of them turning curiously toward Mae.
“Oh, goodness,” said Hannah. “He has! Or you would have denied it outright.”
“That is pure conjecture,” Mae replied, sounding clogged in the throat even to herself.
“Oh, Christ,” Vix marveled. “He has, then! I didn’t think he was going to for another month at least.”
“How did it happen?” Rosalind asked, sipping at her refreshed tea with her pinky out. “Was it very romantic?”
“No!”
“No, it wasn’t romantic?” Rosalind asked, clicking the cup back onto the saucer. “Or no, you don’t want to tell me?”
“I’ve an idea,” Vix announced, looking positively energized by this development. She was toying with one of her pearl earrings, her eyes fixed on the thimble sitting by Rosalind’s teacup. “This round of the thimble game has had a caveat, you know. Anyone who accepts the thimble from me agrees as part of their dare that it comes back to me afterward. Mae, would you agree to that?”
“That sounds like you’re just doing whatever you like,” Mae replied, pulling a face. “I thought there were rules.”
“There are rules,” Vix tutted. “It’s a childhood game, not a bloody act of Parliament. Though I suppose I could make that happen if I butter Ambrose up enough.”
“Ooh!” said Rosalind.
“Ugh,” said Hannah, but she was still smiling. “I should never have given you a knight.”
“Probably not,” Vix agreed, tossing her sister-in-law an affectionate quirk of the lips. “But I thank you anyhow.”
“You don’t even have it yet,” Mae pointed out. “Rosalind still has to demand something from you.”
“We have been wanting that second chalkboard at the clinic,” Rosalind said dreamily, stirring her tea as she gazed out the window. “Perhaps even two more?”
“Yes, that’s it, Rosalind,” Mae said flatly. “Sell your soul for a chalkboard.”
“My soul?” Rosalind asked, turning back from the window to blink at Mae, frowning.
“I will reoutfit the entire classroom if necessary,” Vix said, clapping her hands together. “But Mae, you do understand that if you accept the thimble, you have to do the dare associated with its offer. Yes?”
