He’d meant it in the military sense.
They were suffering casualties left and right, it seemed. One way or the other.
“Your face is looking a lot better, you know,” Mal said absently. “I noticed at breakfast and meant to say so. That salve Ruby made you is doing its job.”
“She might be a witch, Mal,” Jasper grumbled, making his friend laugh.
“Oh, she certainly is,” he replied. “We all decided that many years ago. It’s her thinking that witchcraft was always chemistry, anyhow.”
“She should’ve been an apothecary rather than a perfumer,” Jasper said, aware that he could still smell the scent she’d made him, even in this hell of dust and wet air.
Malcolm shrugged. “She’ll be whatever she likes, I think, day to day. The women are like that. Ah, here we are. Men, this is your foreman. You’ll take pickaxes from the stock room to your left…”
Jasper drifted as the instructions were given, as Malcolm instructed the foreman to bring the work ledger for the swap of workers. He could barely engage with it, even though this should have been one of the most important moments of his life just now. This should have been the moment that he secured his future with Templeton-Rath.
And all he could think about was that part of him never wanted to see any of that family ever again.
Part of him wanted to go hide in his EIC office with his daily ledgers and forget that he’d ever had aspirations.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger.
Part of him wanted to wear a bell around his neck, surrender his bollocks, and pull piles of rock for the rest of his days. That seemed nice, didn’t it? That seemed peaceful.
But in the end, he had a list in his hand and a task to fulfill.
And he knew there was no going back, no matter how much he wanted to.
By the time they all had emerged from the quarry, Monica had returned to the second level to assist Errol with securing the ox he was taking home and both Libba and Rhys had gone off to their rehearsal hours at the theater.
All that was left was Jasper and Mal.
And all the secrets Jasper was keeping filling a space between them.
Part VII
That Way Madness Lies
Chapter Twenty-Two
The rehearsal hadbeen a grueling endeavor. A successful one but grueling nonetheless.
“Two more days to get your blocking and lines,” she snapped at her troupe, “and then we begin costume rehearsals. Tomorrow, I wish to run through the entire production, but I will swap in understudies at random. Does that please you all?”
“Mais non,”Sister Jeanne said, frowning. “The leads should have priority.”
“The good Sister forgets the time she got mumps,” Lem said softly, “on opening night.”
“She doesnot,” the nun replied, pulling her wig off with a pout. “No one forgets the mumps. I looked likeune femelle castor.”
“Do women beavers look different than the men?” Rhys asked, glancing up from his fossil, which he was currently shining with Libba’s brand-new tin of rose oil. “I thought they were all fairly similar.”
Sister Jeanne glared at him, picked up her skirts, and flounced off the stage, leaving him to shrug and continue his polish.
“Benvolio and Paris,” Libba said, stepping aside to allow for her irritated Juliet to get past her to the backstage stairs. “You have fittings with Miss Thresher on the morrow. Not atStarling’s Rest this time. You will be going to her new storefront a few doors down. There is no sign yet. Do you know where it is?”
The men nodded, letting a bit of the steel out of Libba’s shoulders. “Capital. Dismissed.”
It was only then that she heard the chuckle from the front seats of the orchestra pit, her eyes falling down to find Jasper slumped and watching, with one ankle drawn up over his knee.
