She drew a sharp breath through her teeth. The leaves—they’d clumped on two sides of the cup, leaving a clear channel between them. Oh dear. She’d seen this only a few times before, when there were two very distinct and yet very probable paths lying before a person. The aunties called it a Double Jeopardy and bemoaned its every occurrence.
Luna blew out a frustrated breath. A complicated reading wasnothow she wanted this day to begin. But she couldn’t very well send poor Miss Eugenia away with nothing. She would simply have to recall everything the aunties had taught her and do her best. She looked deeper.
Two images began to play out simultaneously before her Sight. A witch of Auntie Apolonia’s skill might be able to separate them, to view one after the other. Luna didn’t have the knack; to her, they were like drawings on transparent paper, layered on top of each other. It was hard to make sense of either, to see which parts belonged to which. The only thing she could see with absolute clarity was Miss Eugenia’s face—or rather, her double face. Because of the way the layers overlapped, Miss Eugenia appeared like some sort of monster, with features on both sides of her head. One face looked one way; one looked the other. In the left-facing Eugenia, she saw a careworn, exhausted creature, clad in somber clothes and looking faintly out of breath. In the other, right-facing Eugenia, she saw laughter—crinkled eyes, flashing teeth, plain features transformed into cheerful prettiness.
As for the rest of the details? It was hard to say. She thought perhaps one of these women had a baby slung over her shoulder, while the other pushed a pram. There was a man, striding swiftly ahead of the tired Eugenia, his face obscured.He seemed to be made of nothing but long legs in motion, and she was panting to keep up with him. The other, laughing Eugenia seemed to be sitting beside someone, of whom Luna could discern nothing but an extremely long nose and a matching walrus mustache. Nothing else made sense. Maybe a carriage with a coat of arms? Maybe a house with a sagging front porch? Possibly a dog? Or several? It was all too much of a jumble.
Luna blinked several times to clear the vision from her eyes. Her head throbbed a little, a common accompaniment to any Double Jeopardy vision.
“Well?” Eugenia demanded eagerly, sitting forward in her seat. “What did you see? What is my future?”
Luna licked her lips, considering. It was impossible to know what sort of advice to give under these circumstances. At first glance, it would seem as though one choice would bring Eugenia happiness, the other misery . . . but one had to remember, these images were merely glimpses of a moment in time. A tired woman could be made peaceful and contented after a nap; a laughing woman might be disguising secret heartache. There were simply too few other details to go by.
Luna closed her eyes, summoning to memory all her aunties had taught her over the years. “When you marry,” she said slowly, choosing her words with care, “you must choose the man who respects you above all others. The man who hears your voice, heeds your ideas, and allows himself to be partnered with you in all things. If you wed such a man, you will find happiness. Wed a man who seeks only to use you for his own ends, and your life will be one of misery.”
Eugenia frowned. “What about Tom Doorhandler? What sort of man is he?”
Luna leaned in, met the young woman’s eyes with earnest intensity. “Untilyouknow with certainty the answer to that question, you must make no promises of marriage.”
The young lady’s brow knotted. “But you can’t tell me?”
Luna shook her head. “Tea leaves only reveal so much.”
Miss Eugenia slumped back in her chair, worrying her lower lip. “You know,” she said sadly, “I used to think it would be such fun to be sought-after like Miss Tuttlemouse. Now I wonder if perhaps I was happier as a wallflower.”
Luna offered a sympathetic smile. “I’ve often found,” she said gently, “that flowers bloom best in their correct environments. If a flower happens to belong on the wall, well, perhaps there’s good reason for it?”
Eugenia tilted her head thoughtfully. “So, you think I should step back. Look at things from an outside perspective. Like a wallflower.”
“Perhaps.”
“But my mother wants me to marry!”
Oh, mothers. The bane of fresh young debutants everywhere! Sometimes, Luna was happy she only had a passel of spinster aunts with which to deal. None of whom felt any urge to see their only niece married off. “And did your mother marry in haste?”
“Of course. She was engaged before the second half of her first season.”
“Is she happy?”
“Well . . .” Eugenia blinked. “I never considered it.” Her face screwed up in thoughtful effort. “No,” she decided at last. “No, she’s not. She never is. I’ve never seen Mother happy a day in her life.”
Sutton uttered the smallest, daintiest, most nearly-imperceptible of snorts.
“Perhaps,” Luna hazarded, “your mother’s choices are not so much a guide as a warning?”
“I never thought about it that way.” Eugenia tapped her lip with the tip of one finger. Then she said abruptly, “This tea of yours. It’s very good.”
“Thank you.”
“May I purchase some to take home with me?”
Luna hopped up and fetched a tin of the spiced orange blend. “The serving instructions are written on a card inside the lid,” she said, ringing it up at the register.
Eugenia thanked her, paid for her purchase, then leaned across the counter and whispered, “Thank you, Miss Talbot. You’ve been most helpful.”
“My pleasure, Miss Lambert,” Luna replied.
She caught Sutton’s narrow look on the way out. The maid offered the slightest of all nods. It was, Luna suspected, tantamount to applause from a woman like that. She accepted the gesture with pleasure and saw the two of them out the door.
