Charlotte gasped in horror—and the merest breath of delight.
Miss Plim went down in a heap of black crinoline. Her topknot thwacked as it hit the floor.
“That should give you ten minutes or so,” Ned said. He jumped from the chair and slapped Alex’s shoulder in a friendly manner.
“Thanks,” Alex muttered.
“I shouldn’t have done it, since it only encourages your bad behavior.” Ned frowned first at Alex and then Charlotte, who would have stared back imperiously if she wasn’t aware of Cecilia coming up behind her, cool and elegant, not a hair out of place. As a result, she only managed to look queenly, which is not as noble as it sounds. Ned reached between her and Alex to take his sword back from Cecilia, and the smile he gave his wife was so unconsciously tender, so melting with love and regard, that Charlotte’s look degraded to common envy, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Alex grimace.
“You really need to separate,” Ned continued as he sheathed his sword. “Alex, go quiet for a while. Smuggle some sugar, rob a few minor lending institutes. Miss Pettifer, go home. I know it’s enjoyable stirring up trouble, but you’ll find a more lasting contentment in your own spheres.”
“What nonsense!”
All three turned to stare at Cecilia. She stared back unperturbed.“Don’t listen to him. He just doesn’t like the idea of wearing a white waistcoat to your wedding—he thinks doing so at ours was enough for a lifetime. The man is a fool.”
“But a debonair fool,” Ned argued.
“Wedding?” Alex said weakly.
“Besides,” Ned added. “I would wear a pink dress to their wedding if they asked me. That is entirely beside the point.”
“Excuse me, what wedding?” Charlotte said.
“The point is,” Cecilia contended, “they have an amulet to retrieve.”
Ned raised an eyebrow. “Wehave an amulet to retrieve.”
Alex glanced at Charlotte. “Wedding?” he whispered. She shook her head with bemusement. The crowd, now silent in fascination at the scene unfolding before them, smirked and nudged each other.
“Yes, dear,” Cecilia continued. “This is why we must keep an eye on them, which we can do more easily if they are running around together, attracting policemen, outraged pirates, and wit— Er, women who are in no way involved in witchcraft. Better this than them working independently in secret.”
“Well, they won’t be running anywhere if they don’t start before the aunt recovers.”
At this reminder, Charlotte jolted to attention. “Thank you for your assistance, Captain Lightbourne, Miss Bassingthwaite,” she said, “but we must be leaving. Were Captain O’Riley and I not committed enemies, with absolutely no plans for a wedding, we would invite you to afternoon tea in our—er, that is, Captain O’Riley’s house. But I’m afraid we must dash.”
“Of course,” Cecilia said. “I am the last person who would inflict a woman’s aunt upon her. It was lovely to meet you again, Miss Pettifer. I hope you will come to me when you are planning your baby shower. My housemaid has developed a mania for knitting booties, and we now have more than we will hopefully ever use.”
“Baby shower?!” Alex echoed in a strangled voice.
A few voices in the crowd chuckled. Alex’s glare repressed them back into prudent silence.
“Thank you, Miss Bassingthwaite,” Charlotte said stiffly. “I would one day enjoy a discussion on footwear.” She ignored the small noise Alex made, for she felt like she was crossing a chasm on an uncertain rope bridge, and needed no distractions lest she plummet into mortal embarrassment. “I am keen to know where you bought those charming shoes you are wearing.”
Cecilia smiled warmly, and the rope bridge became a little steadier. “I would be happy to tell you. Perhaps we might defy the feud and take luncheon together one day soon. We could admire Black Beryl’s amulet displayed above my hearth.”
Charlotte’s own smile in reply was tepid, but only because it had originated from a lifetime of being out in the cold. “I would be pleased to bring Beryl Black’s amulet on my visit, and set it temporarily above your hearth so we may admire it together.”
They looked at each other with a steady silence that, for any two other women, would have been a chuckle. Charlotte realized she’d crossed the bridge, and had a moment’s pride in herself before panicking and running back along it to safe ground again. “Come along, Captain O’Riley. We must be leaving. Although we are nottogether”—she gave Ned a fierce look, and he raised his hands to surrender the point—“we had better return to the house before Aunt Judith rouses.”
She gave Cecilia a sharp little nod then strode away, Alex following in somewhat of a daze, his hand still in hers. “How did we get from a wedding to a baby shower in one conversation?” he could be heard asking as they made their way through the crowd to a door someone hastily opened for them.
Ned smiled sidelong at his wife.
“You shouldn’t really have teased them like that,” she chided.
“I wasn’t teasing them,” he said in a noble tone. “I was testing them.”
“Ned Lightbourne, fairy godfather?”
