Rue was startled into commenting. “Uncle Rabiffano is part of your club?”
“Indeed, as are you two now. You’re all grown up, infant dear. Gained your majority and all that entails. I thought it time to pass along my connections. I have a feeling you will need them more than I.” She handed over a stack of documentation. “Other informants of note: the top sheet lists those in Egypt, plus any additional code names I know of. These aren’t members, mind you, just contacts. Not all are trustworthy. Watch out for the Wicker Chicken in particular, very tricky, that one. Weapons and weaknesses are noted in cipher. It uses the Isinglass cypher. I fancy you are already familiar with that.”
Primrose took the package delicately. “I’m better with paperwork.”
Rue only stared at her mother.
“You’ll need code names.” Lady Maccon cocked her head in enquiry.
Rue and Prim exchanged glances.
Eventually, Rue gestured at her friend with a thumb. “The Ledger for that one.”
Prim grinned. “Makes me sound all dark and ominous. And organised. I like it. And you, Rue, you should be…??” She trailed off, frowning.
“Hot Cross Bun.” Rue was firm on this.
Lady Maccon sputtered. “Infant, that sounds quite rude.”
Rue was unwavering. “I always said I’d rather be called a hot cross bun than a bit of crumpet and I’m sticking to it.”
“Tradition demands you both be accessories of some kind.”
Prim produced a dainty little ledger from her reticule, the one with the lavender leather cover in which she tallied the daily accounts. “Ledgers are accessories.”
“So,” added Rue, “given the right set of circumstances, are hot cross buns.”
Lady Maccon could not argue with that.
Rue pressed for further information on this club of her mother’s. “Dama is a member? I learned Isinglass from him.”
“Somewhat. We do share the cypher, just in case. He has a code name, Goldenrod, but I didn’t give it to him. It doesn’t pay, my dear, to involve Lord Akeldama in all one’s secrets, much as I adore him.”
“You adore someone who isn’t me, wife?” Lord Maccon returned, Percy in his wake.
Rue looked to her mother.
Lady Maccon shook her head. Nothing else needed to be covered that afternoon on the subject of secret societies and code names.
Primrose squinted at her brother suspiciously. “Percy, you look priggish. Well, more priggish than usual. It’s unsettling. Stop it at once.”
“I’ve had some good news, sister darling.”
“That’s no excuse.”
Rue made the motions of departure. It was past time to make their farewells. Prim and Percy could argue for hours if given the right incentive, like priggishness.
“Mother, Paw, it’s been a pleasure transporting you here. I shall be certain to visit as often as I can. I do hope your tea endeavours prove both profitable and distracting.”
Lady Maccon stood as well. “Thank you, infant.” She held Rue in an oddly fierce embrace for a long moment. Rue relaxed into the unexpected joy in her mother’s touch. There was no reason for it. Lady Maccon had nothing to steal from her that plague and sunlight hadn’t already rendered moot. It was nice, once in a while, not to be frightened of her mother.
“You’ll look after Paw, won’t you?” Without his supernatural abilities, Lord Maccon could not hear his daughter’s whisper.
“Since the day we married, I’ve watched over that lummox. I’m not stopping now,” Mother answered equally softly, with a wealth of love in her voice.
“Good. Someone has to.”
“And you?”
“I’m fine on my lonesome.” Rue drew back, smiling into Lady Maccon’s worried brown eyes.
“Fortunately for me, you aren’t alone.” Mother tilted her head slightly towards the twins who were still bickering amicably.
“Too true.”
“You’ll be careful, infant? Now you’re officially grown up and legally autonomous?” It was both a question and a statement rolled into one, as if Lady Maccon were trying to reassure herself.
“’Course I shall.” Rue was unused to hesitancy from Alexia Maccon. “I’m your daughter after all.”
Mother seemed to lose her voice and with a funny little wince, let her go and twirled away. Fishing about for a handkerchief, she dabbed at her eyes. “Blasted desert dust.”
Primrose moved to distract her with more formal farewells.
Rue turned to her Paw.
He engulfed her in a fierce hug, fairly cracking her spine with affection. He snuffled into his beard unashamedly. He hadn’t his wife’s sense of propriety or gravitas. “Take care of yourself, little one. Try not to get into too much trouble.”
“We’ll keep an eye on her, Lord Maccon,” said Percy in a most un-Percy-like cheerful manner.
Lord Maccon grunted at him and let his daughter go.
Rue and Prim gathered up their parasols. Percy went to find his hat, which he’d naturally forgotten in the other room.