When he smiled, it was small, weary, long-suffering, and ironic.
They waited.
But he didn’t deign to answer the question.
“We’d like a moment to discuss this generous but unorthodox arrangement, Mr. X,” Angelique said smoothly. Dot had just arrived with the tea. “If you would enjoy your tea we’ll rejoin you shortly.”
“By all means,” he said. Like a judge or a king.
Their guest took a sip of tea and raised his eyebrows in approval.
Delilah and Angelique moved across their shiny foyer into the opposite drawing room, the one with the as-yet-unused pianoforte. It was a little chilly, because they had decided not to light a fire in this room, in order to conserve money.
And this fact suddenly infuriated her. Once again, a supercilious man was assuming they would do whatever he wanted them to do simply because they could not say no. Because he had the money. And the money meant he had the power.
They spoke in whispers.
“I hate him,” Delilah said simply.
“Me, too,” Angelique agreed.
“It feels like a trap of some kind, but I cannot see how. What if we’ll be harboring a criminal?”
“I don’t know. Mr. X”—Angelique rolled her eyes extravagantly—“certainly dresses with a severe splendor for a mere assistant of a criminal. I would warrant it’s someone notorious, however, which could be thrilling.”
“First of all, we don’t want thrilling. And it can’t be thrilling if the actual Mr. E isn’t here and might never be. But what if...”
Delilah didn’t finish the sentence.
She was going to ask the questions that had no answers:What if no one else ever comes? What if we fail? What if we starve?
“I so longed to make all of our decisions out of hope and discretion, not fear,” she said instead.
“Well, one day we will, perhaps. I’m not certain we have a choice at the moment.” It was Angelique’s dryness that helped sober Delilah.
“Then I supposethat’sour choice, and that makes all the difference, if we are choosing it. We’ll be equal to what comes. We’ve been equal to everything in our lives so far. And it could be an adventure.”
“I certainly hope not,” Angelique said.
“Then we are decided.”
“We are decided.”
They conveyed the good news to Mr. X, who didn’t so much as waste a muscle twitch on surprise or celebration.
He’d left the sovereigns sitting on the table.
Delilah would rather die than leap upon them before he took his leave of them.
“You will know him when and if he presents the other half of this to you.”
He extended to Delilah something the size of a sovereign, forged of metal. It appeared to be half a crest of some sort. Perhaps the leg of a lion, or a unicorn? It was difficult to tell.
Honestly.
“Do you dole these tokens out about the ton, Mr....”
“X,” he repeated, patiently.
