Page 65 of Apt to be Suspicious
Pen swallowed. “Well, I. Maths, obviously. Cryptography. But I don’t know how you want to start with that. Or what it’d mean after apprenticeship. And then there’s.” She stopped, tried again, refusing to sound as scattered as she felt. “Edmund. He’s— um.”
Giles said amiably. “I gather he’d been extending himself in several directions. He comes round for tea most weeks during term, and he did yesterday. He didn’t tell me anything about you specifically. Beyond earnestly wanting to make sure nothing he had in mind would interfere with my plans for your learning and collaboration.”
Pen had even less idea what to do with that sentence. She considered her options. Fleeing through the door was not actually one of them. Cammie was leaning forward now, elbows on her knees, and that both helped and didn’t. Pen took a breath, let it out, and did her best to attack the most relevant part head-on. “Earnest, sir?”
“Exceedingly earnest. Charmingly so, actually. Would you be willing to expand on what he’s being earnest about, or would you rather not? Talking about your personal life is not a condition of your apprenticeship, though I am glad to do so. I tend to think it makes for better learning. Cammie has no objections, nor have my other past apprentices.” Giles waved a hand, agreeably. Cammie grinned broadly, obviously unbothered, though she said nothing.
Pen nodded, then realised she had to find words. That was going to be a condition of apprenticeship, and it was probably good for her in the long-term. “Edmund asked if he might court me properly. While pointing out there’s no need to rush anything, given he’s got two years left as a student.”
“That is basic arithmetic, yes.” Giles tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Does he have an answer from you yet, and are there any matters I might help with in terms of information? I have known his father in particular for a long time.”
“I said yes. I’m not entirely sure why, except that—” Pen heard her voice trail off. “I gather his mother is brilliant?”
“Oh, both his parents are. They also both go to some lengths not to be obvious about it. Edmund didn’t have that chance. People would have noticed if he hadn’t read Greats, given his war. Or maths, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that he makes a good effort, but it’s not where his head is.” That was affectionate, the sort of amused tolerance of someone who would never know the joys of working out a maths problem or solving a cypher.
Cammie cut in. “His parents tend toward the more formal, especially with people they don’t know well. Layers, as well as masks. But I wouldn’t want you to read that as a lack of fondness or deep affection. With people they’re close to, they’re welcoming and warm.” Cammie considered, then asked, “Is that a thing that worries you?”
Pen cleared her throat. “More than a bit.”
“Well, my advice is to meet them sooner than later. What we don’t know is always much larger in the mind, somehow. Now, you’ve spent some time with Benton, haven’t you? More than a minute or two, I mean.” Pen nodded. Cammie went on with barely a pause. “That was a nod, Giles. Benton will have given them a thorough report about you. If Edmund’s asked about courting you, he’s fairly certain there will be no objection from his parents. Not that they’d permit or deny, exactly, but he’s aware of the commitments he’s made to the land magic. Though his father’s still in quite good health for his age.”
Giles snorted. “He’s not that much older than I am, thank you. Well, eight years.” He considered, then added, “I met Geoffrey in 1911, when I was up at Oriel, on a matter related to cryptography. There wasn’t an intelligence service proper yet, but there were people keeping an eye on the world. The Great Game.”
“I’ve read Kipling’s Kim,“ Pen said promptly. “Though obviously, there’s a lot that’s fictional there.”
“Also, not terribly much in the way of codes, though there is a certain amount of other craft. Mostly polyalphabetic work, possible to crack if you had an idea of how to sort things out. At any rate, I did the work. He disappeared for six months. When he came back, he invited me round the Explorer’s Club for a chat about what it had meant, and where he’d been.” Giles tapped a finger on the arm of his chair. “I did not have his wandering feet, even then. I rather prefer my study and desk and everything where I expect it. But the stories were compelling. And I went with him a time or two to Paris, to Munich, to Amsterdam, quick trips with specific goals.”
There were, Pen thought, more stories there, but now was perhaps not the right time to ask about them. “May I ask what his father was like then? Or when you met his mother?”
“Geoffrey, mm. Curious, always. The sort of person who wants to listen to other people tell stories, so he can figure out how what he wants might fit into them. A lover of pleasure, in a wide range of forms— good food, excellent drink, being outside. You’ll have gathered about the stables, I suspect, but Geoffrey’s as skilled a falconer as he is a rider. Which is to say, very. Kind, which is absolutely not a given among that sort of family. Deliberate about his choices, and loyal as the day is long to the people he commits to. That includes me, by the by.”
Giles glanced downward, toward his feet and the dog. “I didn’t hear from him much between when I was blinded and when he came back to Albion in 1922. A letter here and there. He’s said since he didn’t know what to say to me when someone else had to read it to me. That’s fair, especially given how private he is about himself.”
Giles did not seem to bear any grudges, at least, and Pen would be thinking about that for a while. Not so many people would be as fond of someone who’d disappeared for years, at a time they might have especially needed a friend. “And then?” She wasn’t sure about how to ask about Edmund’s mother.
“Then Geoffrey came back, at his brother’s death. Someone should tell you more about that, but it should probably be Edmund. Or Geoffrey or Lizzie. I’d taken up with the Edgartons— Lord Richard and Lady Alysoun— and they brought me to Temple’s funeral. A trifle difficult to manage a crowd on my own. Geoffrey was delighted, and we picked up again quite quickly.” Giles tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, and the dog put her head up inquisitively, then settled again.
“When he and Lizzie met, it was in solving a particular problem, an addictive magical drink. My wife was part of the investigation that came out of that, and we went on from there. Lizzie’s charming, but she’s got a ferociously analytical mind. She’s spent most of her marriage applying it to social information and connections, both blatant and subtle. She and Alysoun get on fabulously, as well as Thesan Wain.” Giles ended it amiably. “A knot of people, you might as well get used to that, too.”
Cammie grinned. “You had Thesan at school, of course. Her daughter Ursula is good friends with Edmund, I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of her sometime.”
“He admitted he’d talked to her about me.” Pen wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. But she’d been clear, even reading his note about it yesterday, that it was a matter of trust and friendship, not any hint of something romantic.
“Ursula has quite a few plots of her own, and Edmund will lend a hand, as needed. And vice versa. Ursula’s getting married sometime during Michaelmas term.” Cammie waved a hand. “I’m sure Edmund will be on the invite list, so if you’re visibly together, you should plan on that. If you need frocks for that sort of thing, people have things in their closets to lend. Benton’s wife is—” She tilted her head, as if trying to figure out how to explain.
“I’ve already met Mistress Castalia, thank you. She sorted this glorious frock for one of the dances. I suppose I should see if there’s something for the balls. If that’s something we’re doing.” They probably should. It would make absolutely the right statement about her current status and Edmund’s. They had a week or ten days yet to figure something out, so she’d check with him tonight. Probably he’d already thought of it.
“There, you are already in excellent hands. Right. We’ve got about an hour before we should send you off. Cammie, a round of tea, please. Pen, would you lay out what you’ve been discussing in tutorial, what you feel you need more time with before you take your exams next Trinity term, and so on? I want to start thinking about an expanded reading list, and figuring out how much time we can devote to cryptography.”
Pen had at least expected this bit. It was frankly a much easier conversation to have. She knew where she was with maths.
Chapter 41
Friday evening at Ytene
“Sit, sit.” Uncle Alexander gestured for Edmund to take his usual bit of the shorter sofa. Mama and Papa found their usual places on the longer one and Uncle Alexander claimed the chair nearest Papa. “When do you need to be back?”
They all had after-dinner drinks— coffee for Edmund and Uncle Alexander, brandy for Mama and Papa. That suggested Uncle Alexander was doing something that needed his wits when they were done here, though not the particular category of engagement.
