Page 63 of Apt to be Suspicious
“You remember I talked about Pen.” Now it came down to it, Edmund did not know how to be subtle or clever about it.
“I do.” Ursula turned to face him more, and now she was entirely focused on him. It was both utterly reassuring and a little terrifying. “And?”
“We did something challenging on Tuesday. She stayed to keep an eye on me. And yesterday evening, we talked through more of it. How I feel about her, at least in part?” Edmund did not actually stammer as he got it out, but it was a near thing twice.
Ursula tilted her head. “Edmund, you’re blushing. That’s not a look I’ve seen on you before. All right. Why did you want to come talk to me?”
“Because you understand. A lot more than most people will. Even if there were other people I trusted to talk about something like this. And I mean, I need to talk to Mama and Papa and Uncle Alexander.”
“Uncle Alexander is going to take one look at you once you say her name and have an excellent idea. Even if he won’t admit it,” Ursula said.
Edmund couldn’t help chuckling, though it had an edge of something to it. Uncle Alexander might be his apprentice master, but he was Ursula’s godfather. And she used that particular role to push him more than Edmund generally did. She was right, though. “He probably already does, except for the most recent parts,” Edmund admitted. “Even if he’d rather not talk about such things.” Then he let out a huff of breath. “How do I handle who I am fairly with Pen? What I am.”
“Ah.” Ursula shifted. Analytically, Edmund could detail, if pressed, how she’d changed the angle of her shoulders slightly, taking a breath in a particular way. But that was only because he’d been trained to watch for that sort of thing. “All right. That is a good reason to talk to me first. Right. Tell me why you’re so taken with her.”
Edmund looked down at his mug. “More reasons than I can name.” He put it that way deliberately, glancing up to see Ursula’s mouth twitch, because she had understood the play on words. “I know where she was during the war, it turns out. Not something she can talk about, not something I can talk about with you. But that’s one thing. I know from it she was fiercely committed, dedicated to her work, good at it, and clever, besides.”
Ursula pursed her lips for a moment in there, but did not press him with a question. “And you’ve been sorting out a problem with her. I will allow as how that gives you a sense of how she goes about things.”
“That. I’ll come back to it. I’ve introduced her to Uncle Giles and Aunt Cammie. Uncle Giles has agreed to take her on next term. She’s got one more year. Tutor and apprentice master.”
That got a low whistle out of Ursula. “So, yes, we can take the brains as a given. And also manners. The proper kind, not for show.”
“Yes.” It made Edmund smile a little. “Her grandfather is a vicar, so she’s quite used to that sort of social manners. Making conversation in a variety of circumstances and all that.”
“Which is, to be fair, an advantage with the Great Families or the land magic. We have a certain number of obligatory events. Babies to admire, people to coax, plots to grow.” Ursula leaned back, now more relaxed. “That part is what Jim struggles with. Though he solves it well enough.”
“He stands there, utterly attentive to you, and lets you get on with your plotting,” Edmund agreed. “Without being too obvious about it, he’s actually quite good at asking sensible questions. By which I mean asking you to expand on something.”
Ursula grinned suddenly. “He is also a clever man, though not the way that pleases cryptographers.” She tapped her fingers on her leg. “All right. First, if it’d be a help to talk to me, or have me walk her through things like clothes or what to expect talking to your parents, I’m glad to.”
“That’s a relief, Ursula. I don’t know if she’ll want to, but making the offer matters. Someone who’s not— well. My parents.” Edmund was fully aware that his parents could be intimidating, even aside from the fact that they were his parents, which rather mattered in context. They had a habit of privacy that made space around them. Held space. That was a better way to put it. “Someone who understands the ebb and flow. And someone near our age.”
“Are you serious about her, then?” Ursula asked.
Edmund had to swallow, but then he looked up, met Ursula’s eyes, and nodded. “Yes.” Just one word, naming what mattered. “We— I don’t want to rush what we do about that. There’s no reason to, and reason not to.”
“You’ve got two more years of university. All the complexities of being married, the way that would cut you off from the ordinary things as a student,” Ursula agreed. “I do not have those problems.” She and Jim were planning a winter wedding to match her parents’. And, as Ursula had pointed out, it was easier to take a trip in the quiet season, agriculturally speaking.
“Like that. But I don’t know how to get from here to whatever that is. Whenever that is.” Edmund spread out his hands. “I suspect you can’t help much with that part.”
“No. But you could talk to Dad about it, if you wanted to. Both parts, actually. He had a great deal of experience with various women before Mum. And experience with the expectations, and then marrying Mum, who was not the right sort of family at all as Uncle Garin and Aunt Livia counted it.” Her shoulder twitched. “Obviously, that’s worked out well.”
“So modest, Ursula.” Edmund laughed at it. “More tea?” He stood, claiming her mug and going to pour more into both mugs. As he did so, the timer ticked up, and she peered at it.
“Proud of my brother, more. Just in general, though he’s stood up to a couple of people usefully recently, bless him. With purpose. Let me go down and give things a stir. Read a book, amuse yourself, anything sensitive’s locked up.” He appreciated that she was careful about that, even in her own rooms. It showed proper respect for the information. Good habits, as Major Manse would say. Ursula stood, picking up the alarm and carrying it off with her. It left Edmund with time to think about what he wanted to say next.
Ursula was gone for a hair more than ten minutes, enough for Edmund to have pulled out a book and read a dozen pages. One of the older mysteries, nothing demanding, and one he’d read a number of times before. This was not a time in his life, not until the end of term, for anything new or demanding. She was humming as she came back, loudly enough that he had warning before she turned the corner into the sitting room. “I had an idea. Several ideas.”
“This is why it’s dangerous to leave you unsupervised,” Edmund agreed mock-solemnly. “Tell. Here, I kept your tea warm for you.” His magic had recovered that far at least, though it was a charm he used often. Being prone, as many people were, to making a cup and getting distracted, only to find it had cooled.
“First, if you’re intending to introduce her to your parents, are you intending to do that before or after the Faire? During is not kind to anyone.” Ursula set the alarm back down nearby and sat with a twitch of her skirt to smooth it out. She reached for her cup and took a sip. “Ta.”
“I need to ask her that. If she even wants to meet them yet. Only if we’re serious, if we’re walking that direction, better sooner than later.” Edmund grimaced. “It’s not that I haven’t thought about some of this, but I haven’t figured out how to thread it all together.”
“All right.” Ursula sipped her mug. “You don’t finish the term until the nineteenth, do you?”
“No. And how do you keep my schedule in your head?” Edmund managed his own, but he didn’t expect other people to. Well, not other than his parents and Uncle Alexander.
