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“My…what?” She hadn’t told Daisy about Christian. Had she?
Oh. She had.
“Your marquess,” Daisy said, exaggerating the word, as if to remind her that this was part of the game.
“Oh, Daisy.” Judith shook her head. “I don’t want to talk of him.”
“No? Because Crash said he’d accompanied you home the other night.”
“Since when are you speaking with Crash?”
Daisy flushed. “Since never. Just enough to be polite. You know Crash. One cannot put him off.”
“Really? What did he do?”
“One cannot put me off, either.” Daisy said with a faint smile. “Tell me. Come, come, come. I could use a little vicarious romance.”
“Daisy.”
“Or a little vicarious business, if that’s all it is.”
“He’s—” But the lie died on her tongue.
She couldn’t keep lying to Daisy—or at least, she couldn’t keep telling her the truth in the guise of a lie.
But maybe… Maybe not everything needed to hurt. She looked over at her friend.
“I have a confession.”
Daisy smiled. “Oh, I love confessions!”
“No. A real confession.” Judith swung her basket heavily. “He… He really is a marquess.” The words came out all in a rush. “His name is Christian Trent. He’s the fifth Marquess of Ashford. He was my elder brother’s best friend, and he wanted to marry me before we came here.”
“There,” Daisy said. “It will be all right. You’ll see.”
“Don’t. Don’t you comfort me.” She looked over at Daisy. “You don’t understand. I’m not making any of this up. My father was the Earl of Linney. He committed suicide after he’d been convicted of treason.”
Daisy blinked at her.
“I didn’t tell you. When we first met, it wasn’t the time. It was too new to speak about. And then we started our game, and it’s all felt like a lie ever since. You trusted me the other night with your secrets, and I haven’t trusted you with mine. I’m sorry. So sorry. I should have explained—”
“Well, of course I know all that,” Daisy said. “I’m not stupid. And people do gossip.”
Judith came to a halt. “Oh. Well. I suppose that makes…sense.”
Daisy looked upward. “While we’re making confessions, I had intimate relations with Crash. Almost a year ago. I’m embarrassed. I never…that is…I never thought I was the sort to…”
Judith cleared her throat. “I, ah. I actually had guessed that. Based on the degree of awkwardness that descended between the two of you.”
Daisy shrugged. “You see? Nothing to disclose.”
Maybe nothing. Judith flushed. “Well, ah. If we’re talking about intimate relations, Christian really is a marquess. He did want to marry me. And the other day… But no. I’m not going to complain to you about that. It would be utterly ridiculous.”
Daisy shook her head. “You know, Judith, you have the strangest ideas about who is allowed to complain to whom. You watch my mother; I watch your brothers and sisters. I complain to you about losing my childhood home. Who else should you complain to about your problems?”
Judith spread her arms. “Anyone else?”
Daisy sniffed. “Don’t be a goose. You’re allowed to talk with your friends. That’s what we’re here for.”
It was like tossing a loaf of odd, cobwebby bread into the oven and having evil elves turn it into something magical.
Judith smiled. “I love you, you know.”
Daisy sniffed. “I know. But I am keeping score. If you marry him, you must have me over for tea. With gilt porcelain. And little tea cakes.”
Judith laughed. “I can do better. We’ll have curry chicken sandwiches with cucumber from a hot house in December.”
“Yes. And when you meet the queen, I really don’t care what the truth is.” Daisy leaned in. “Whatever it is, promise me you’ll tell me she breaks wind.”
Not everything hurt. Judith laughed and bumped her shoulder against her friend’s.
“She does,” Judith promised. “She does. It’s foul. There’s a reason they use so many candles at Buckingham Palace, and it’s not just for the light.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It took the Worth siblings two full days to put Benedict’s plan in action. Benedict scouted the lay of the land, as he called it, choosing every position carefully from the cover of the bushes.
It took twelve hours to prepare the ginger-ginger biscuits. Ginger-ginger biscuits were another one of Judith’s creations. Regular ginger biscuits were made with powdered ginger. These were made with powdered ginger, essence of ginger, and candied ginger, for extra ginger flavor. They were bitingly spicy and were typically rolled in sugar. This batch had been produced in an atypical fashion.
This time, Benedict oversaw the preparation. The biscuits were baked, cooled, and then a single one was broken in thirds. Judith choked on her bit.
“These,” Benedict said with a coughing nod, “are what we need. I truly believed that everything is better with salt until now, but…”
“These don’t have too much salt,” Theresa pointed out. “But maybe there is too little biscuit? I could not have made them any worse, and my skills at baking are unsurpassedly dismal.”
Benedict had added to this a lovely, delightfully tasty lemonade.
“I want to try it,” Theresa said as Judith decanted it into a soda-bottle she’d obtained for the purpose.
“No, you don’t,” Judith said. “You really don’t.”
They packed these delicious-seeming goods into a basket and took a walk—a four-mile walk—to a park. This one was just large enough for a cricket pitch. As it happened, three boys were playing.
“Will you be all right?” Judith whispered.
Benedict rolled his eyes. “Of course. I’m an old hat at this. And this time, I’m in charge.” He took the basket and sauntered off. As he approached the pitch, the boys saw him.
“Hey! It’s Worthless!” shouted one. Their cricket game was forgotten and children converged on her brother. Judith winced under cover of the nearby bushes.
“Worthless, what are you doing here?”
“Just passing through,” her brother said.
“Passing through! It says it’s passing through.” The boy who had taken the lead had dark hair tucked under a cap.
“I’m meeting a friend,” Benedict said, “I’ve brought something for him—oh, come on, let go.” This last was directed to the boy who grabbed him by the elbow. “I’m not hurting you.”
“You bother everything simply by existing,” the leader said.
Another boy lifted up the lid of the basket. “Well,” he said in a different tone of voice. “It never learns. We have us biscuits and a bit of—why, is this lemonade, Worthless?”
Benedict played his role perfectly. He balled his fists. “You can’t have it, you weasel-heads!”
“Weasel-heads? Listen to it try to insult us like a man.”
“I can have it,” the boy said, “because I want it. I want it, and you don’t wish for me to have it.”
Benedict punched him in the stomach, and Judith almost cheered. The boy crumpled, falling to the ground. Benedict kicked at him, but it was too late. The other two boys grabbed hold of him. A backhand across the face; a wrench of the elbow, and then, another fist to the stomach when the dark-haired boy gained his feet again.
Benedict spat in his face. “You’ll wish you were a weasel.”
“Oh, go on.” The other boy smiled. “We’ll take your basket for your troubles, and if we see you again, you’ll have twice as bad coming. Get off with you.”
Benedict staggered back as they pushed him away.
“Go on.” The boy made a shooing motion. “Get off.”
Benedict turned and ran. Not too far—he ducked behind a building, and then crept back to where he could join Theresa and Judith behind their bush.
“Are you all ri
ght?” Judith whispered, brushing at his face. “You’re bleeding.”
Benedict swiped Judith’s concerns away. “If I miss this because you were weeping over a little blood—oh, God. He put the whole thing in his mouth at once.”
The boy had.
Theresa peered through her fingers. “Everything’s better with salt.”
She had helped Benedict add the salt gleefully. All of it, a full cup, in place of the sugar. The boys spat and coughed.
“Almost everything,” Benedict said. “And now they’re going for the lemonade. They’re passing it around.”
“What exactly did you add to it?” Theresa said. “They’re still drinking it. Does it not taste poorly?”
“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Benedict said. “But if those are the biscuits of death, that is the lemonade of incontinence. Give it some time.”
They sat back on their heels and waited.
“Anyone want a ginger-ginger biscuit of deliciousness?” Judith opened the basket of treats she’d brought along and passed them out.
