Page 26 of An Honorable Deception
Penelope hopped down onto the table and then into Alethia’s lap. The traitor. Though seeing the pleasure on Alethia’s face, Lavinia couldn’t begrudge it. Much.
“What language is that?”
Alethia flushed. “Bengali. Sorry—my parents have forbidden me from speaking it in company, but I’m afraid I forgot myself.” She held out a finger, and Penelope wrapped her paw around it, shaking, as she’d been trained to do. Another happy laugh came from Alethia.
Something strange and aching unfurled in Lavinia’s chest. She wasn’t the only one, it seemed, whose parents had toldher to deny part of herself. “Is it similar to Romani?” That would explain why Penelope obeyed.
Alethia tilted her head. “I believe they’re sister languages, but they’ve deviated over the centuries. Zelda and I haven’t found more than a couple words in common, though it’s still a delight to hear each other speak. The rhythms are the same, the sounds, the construction.” Her eyes slid shut. “Hearing the Caesars talk amongst themselves is a bit like coming home.”
The ache uncurled another petal. She knew that most people sneered when they realized that the Fairfaxes had allowed a Romani family to retire on their grounds. She herself had, only a year ago, dismissed them as nothing more than performers and servants. And to be honest, she hadn’t given them much more thought in the interim.
Hearing the warmth in Alethia’s tone when she mentioned them, though, made the truth click into alignment inside her.
The Caesars were so much more than that to the Fairfaxes. They were family. They had taught Yates and Marigold skills they never should have had, skills they now used to make a living to support them all. Romani tripped off Marigold’s and Yates’s tongue every bit as easily as Bengali had Alethia’s. Those itinerate gypsies loved her friends like their own, and her friends loved them just as much.
A few days here, and Alethia had seen them for what they were. Had opened her heart to them for her own reasons.
It was no wonder Yates had been looking at her like a besotted idiot. This young lady was everything he could have dreamed of. Pretty, from a good family, with a large enough dowry to help out around here—but more than that. Kind and mysterious and uniquely suited to the oddities that were Fairfax Tower.
Lavinia toyed with the end of her braid. Alethiaseemedlike a lovely young lady, but Yates deserved more than lovely, and she wasn’t willing to grant that this girl deserved him quite that easily. “Are you missing London?”
Alethia, gaze still on Penelope, made a face. “Never. Although I prefer it to Father’s estate in the south.”
Father’s estate. That was an interesting way to phrase it. Lavinia referred to her father’s estate ashome. “Where would you prefer to be? If you could be anywhere in the world.”
“Calcutta.” The quick admission was followed by another grimace, then a sheepish glance her way. “I may need to extract a promise from you never to repeat anything I say here to my parents, should you meet them. It seems the pain from my wounds has made me forget myself.”
Lavinia’s smile felt odd on her lips. “I think you mean it’s made you remember yourself.”
She could all but see a shutter fall from Alethia’s eyes. “Perhaps I do, at that.” She drew in a long breath and looked out at the grounds again. “It’s lovely country here—I’ve never been this far north. A bit cold for my tastes, but beautiful nonetheless.” She quirked a brow. “Your home is nearby too, isn’t it?”
“Two miles west.” Lavinia pointed toward the grove of trees that spanned much of the distance between the estates. “My father and the late Lord Fairfax grew up as the best of friends and remained so until the day his lordship died. I spent much of my childhood here at the Tower.”
Mother had never been so quick to invite the Fairfax siblings to the Abbey. As a child, she hadn’t questioned it—she’d just been glad. The Tower was so much more fun.
Alethia’s gaze shifted into something Lavinia recognized well. Careful, probing. “You know Lord Fairfax quite well then.”
She opened her mouth, not sure what she meant to say.He used to be in love with me. Or,For a day, I dreamed of marrying him. Or,We were inseparable for seventeen years.Her stomach twisted. “He’s like a brother to me.”
It wasn’t true. He was without question one of her dearest friends, but he’d never felt like family. How could he, when he always looked at her like he had?
But the answer made something at once relax and spark brighter in Alethia’s eyes. Her lips turned up in a smile part shy and part amused. “Not to sound like every girl ever at a finishing school, but how could you look at him and see a brother? He’s so...” She twirled a hand as if ushering words into her mouth, chuckling when Penelope imitated her movement.
Exhaustion rolled over her. “Handsome, charming, witty, and worthy of modeling for a statue of a Greek god?”
Alethia laughed. “All those things. And an earl besides.” A bit of her mirth subdued. “That is what my parents noted first off.”
They would. It’s what parents did, at least in their circles. Lavinia rested her elbow on the table and her head on her hand, not caring that her own mother would have gasped and swatted at her arm for such an offense. “I’ve known Yates since he was a baby. And smelled him after he insists on helping muck the stalls.” She forced a grin, wagering that Alethia wouldn’t know her well enough to detect the falsehood in it. “He has some decidedly un-earl-like habits. You ought to know that upfront.”
You ought to know that. It sounded to her own ears, and no doubt to Alethia’s, as though she was matchmaking.
Alethia didn’t seem deterred by the stall-mucking. She fixed a thoughtful gaze on Lavinia. “Is he as kind as he seems?”
What was that note in her voice? Not questioning, noteven hopeful. Something deeper, darker, more primal. Something Lavinia recognized because it had festered so long in her own heart.Desperation.Desperation to believe there was goodness somewhere. Desperation to find it.
This was where she could find that—where Lavinia had. With the Fairfaxes. With the Caesars. With the lion and the leopard and the monkey, in a house crumbling under its own weight but too proud to give up. She couldn’t begrudge her that. Something in the girl’s eyes said she needed that sanctuary as much as Lavinia ever had.
She offered a small smile. “He would risk his life to save another. Give the clothes off his back to anyone in need. Risk his own heart to make someone laugh. You’ll find no better man the world over.” She made her smile go brighter, teasing. “Andhe looks like a Greek god.”
