Percy leapt to his cat’s defence. “He’s entitled to his own opinion.”
Rue could hardly argue with that. “You’d best be wary, moggie. She is much bigger than you. Could easily turn you into an Endnote.”
The little black and white tom twitched his whiskers.
Percy said staunchly, “He’s tougher than he appears.”
Rue looked at Primrose. Enough time had passed for her to calm down a bit. “What on earth is wrong, Prim?”
Primrose closed her eyes. “Arguing with that woman is like fighting a blancmange. Press too lightly and she only wobbles, press too hard and you get engulfed into her squishy mindset. It’s disconcerting.”
Rue muttered, “Blancmanges have squishy mindsets?”
Percy explained the situation to Footnote. “My dear sister doesn’t like people she can’t manage, organise, and categorise. I’m thinking our feline friend there defies all attempts.”
Prim narrowed her eyes. “No one is interested in your opinion, Percy.”
“Footnote is, aren’t you, Footnote?” Her brother did not look up from the cat.
Footnote merped at him.
“Quite right,” said Percy. “You are the only intelligent conversation to be found on this ship.”
“Percy, be fair,” remonstrated Rue. “He’s the only one you condescend to talk to.”
“And have certain persons steal my ideas again? I think not.”
“For the last time,” said Quesnel, “it wasn’t your idea to have stolen.”
Primrose raised both her hands. “Please don’t start up again. It’s already been a trying day.”
“You don’t know the half of it, sister dear. You’ll never guess what I caught these two up to.” Percy glared at Rue.
“Unfortunately, I think I can guess. Rue is my best friend, after all.”
Quesnel blinked at Rue. “You told her?”
Rue didn’t see what he had to complain about. “Naturally I told her. What good is an education if it is kept to oneself?”
“That sounds like one of my lines.” Percy was, to be sure, ever eager to share his research into the world with the world.
Quesnel looked dubious. “You think she’ll benefit?”
Rue followed this reasoning. “Well, yes, if she persists in this foolhardy notion of an engagement. It follows that there will eventually be marriage. To a man.”
“You think she’ll go through with it?” Quesnel was surprised.
Primrose interjected. “I am engaged – of course I intend to go through with it!”
“You see?” said Rue.
Quesnel raised his eyebrows. “Curious.”
Primrose objected at any whiff of judgement. “No, it is not! I cannot believe you would take Tash… Miss Sekhmet’s side. Marriage is the correct course of action for any lady of quality. Just because she has odd notions about independence, and Percy is scared of women, and you two are playing out a protracted bout of scandal doesn’t mean I am equally outrageous in my feelings on conjugational formality!”
“Independence, is that what Tasherit calls it?” Rue kept herself from smiling. Prim did seem in some distress. Poor thing, she genuinely felt that she should do what was expected of her. What a horrible way to go through life.
Quesnel turned to Rue. “Like to go somewhere more private and be scandalous some more?”
“Absolutely.”
Without further ado, they made for the door, leaving the twins and Footnote in possession of the field.
Percy rounded on his sister. “You condone Rue’s behaviour?”
“What did I just say, Percy? Certainly not. But when have I ever been able to dissuade Rue from action in any way?”
“Good point.”
Quesnel and Rue made their way up the aft ladder to the captain’s quarters – nowhere else on The Spotted Custard seemed safe from interruption.
Door closed behind them, Rue crowded in close but Quesnel didn’t reach for her.
“You’ve been telling Primrose what we do together?”
“Some. She doesn’t want to hear details. Keeps pretending to faint. I’ve nothing but nice things to say, don’t worry.”
Quesnel winced. “While that’s kind of you, it’s a little odd to know you are reporting on an affair that should be kept private.”
Rue blinked. “Oh dear, have I broken some sacred code? You can’t possibly believe that your previous lady friends keep your exploits to themselves?”
Quesnel was blond, so his humiliation was instantly evident above his cravat. “Chérie, you are a lady, much as you resent it. As such, we should keep up a pretence of discretion.”
“Prim is nothing if not discreet.”
“What have you told her so far?” Quesnel rubbed his face with one hand, as though to wipe away the blush.
Rue grinned. “That I like your posterior. That kissing can be extended to other parts of the body. That you are very well shaped in all places.”
“Including…” Quesnel gestured to his trousers.
“Especially there.” Rue couldn’t help but enjoy his discomfort. All along he held the superior tactical position, being the more experienced partner; this was the first time she’d had the upper hand.