“You do?” I said, surprised. Expecting her to wax on about jealousy, or something.
“You don’t want him.”
“I don’t?” Jessica was wrong-footing me left and right.
She gave me a look. “Don’t be stupid. Of course you don’t. You like his attention, right? It’s like the heat of the sun. Nice at a distance. Not the kind of thing you want right up in your face all the time. You’d melt.”
“And you won’t?”
She met my gaze without blinking. “I eat stars for breakfast.”
I stared at her. It’s not every day you share closet space with potatoes, onions, and a vampire woman who’s low-key threatening to annihilate or possibly marry your ex-boyfriend. “Well, then,” I said, at a loss for words. “I guess that’s all hunky-dory. I’ll let you… get back to it,” I finished, gesturing to the bins. I opened the door and was almost about to leave when suddenly a thought occurred. “So, just asking—no reason—if the Lord of the Blessed were to take a consort, would that person become… a Lady of the Blessed?”
“Funny,” Jessica said, almost absently, “I never thought of that.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” I said, slipping out and shutting the door. I had to stop and lean on it for a second.
Truthfully? They would be perfect for each other.
10
AlthoughIhadn’toriginallyplanned on attending the Late Harvest Luncheon, my mother’s arrival spurred Poppy into a frenzy of wrangling two more invitations. Poppy thought she was being discreet when she stepped into another room to have that conversation, but I overheard half of it.
“What do you mean, Zelda can’t come because she’s not a full member?”
Silence.
“Don’t say she’s not a real witch, that’srude—”
More silence.
“I’m not saying you have to make her a full member, just let her come to tea—” Poppy’s footsteps thumped back and forth as she paced, followed by Georgiana’s four-footed echo. “Right,” she interrupted whoever had been speaking. “Zelda fixed your ruddy Mirror, didn’t she?” A pause. “Whether it got smashed afterward is entirely irrelevant. Do I need to talk to Azure? Because Iwilltalk to Azure—”
I smiled to myself. A threatening Poppy was like a gentle wave that slowly buried you in sand until only your eyes were showing.
“Thank you,” Poppy finally said. “And her mother would like to come too…”
Her opponent probably wondered what to do to make it all stop. I could have told them:just say yes to everything.
And that’s how the three of us came to be at the Late Harvest Luncheon.
A fire so hot you could feel it across the room filled the oversized marble fireplace. Urns filled with spectacular fall flower bouquets stood on banquet tables covered with rust-red velvet cloths. Leaf garlands spiraled around the grand staircase banisters, leading to arches made of sheaves of grain. A cider fountain bubbled and frothed, surrounded by mugs shaped like apples.
My mother clapped her hands with delight. “And you said they were happy to have us come?”
“Oh, yes,” Poppy said. “Absolutely thrilled.”
I caught Poppy’s eye.
She shrugged, what-can-you-do style, then turned her attention to the cider fountain. “How lovely! I’m quite thirsty. Zelda? Effie?”
“I’m more interested in these sandwiches,” Mom said. “Soelegant. Don’t you think so, Zelda?”
“Hmm…” I said, looking over the offerings. “Beef and mustard and pickle; chicken and some kind of chutney; the classic cucumber, dill, and cream cheese; and egg and watercress. Nice,” I admitted. “But do they taste good?”
“Only one way to find out,” Poppy said, scooping several onto a china plate.
“Don’t you want to leave room on your plate for dessert?” my mom asked.
