Violet’s lips were pursed, her face was slightly flushed, and her forehead was covered in beads of sweat. And yet there was no mistaking the smile she was trying very hard to hide.
Edith’s brows lifted. “Ye’re awfully eager to accompany me,” she observed, a hint of laughter creeping into her voice.
Violet froze, paling. “Nay,” she blurted.
Edith’s smile widened. “Aye.”
“Nay, me Lady,” Violet said quietly, looking everywhere but at Edith’s face. “I merely wished to carry yer things.”
Edith’s gaze flicked to the notebook in Violet’s hand—a thick, fresh notebook bound with lavender twine and thick covers made to withstand rigorous use. She had been surprised when a maid delivered it to her chamber the previous evening, refusing to say who it was from.
A smile tugged at her lips.
“’Tis only a notebook,” she said, reaching out her hand. “Daenae fash. I can take it meself.”
Violet stepped back, moving the notebook out of her reach. “Nay.” Her voice rose slightly. “’Tis me duty to carry it for ye.”
Edith’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Perhaps…” The realization slowly dawned on her. “Is this because of… Martin?”
Violet’s face turned crimson, and she made a strangled sound.
Edith gasped dramatically. “Och!”
“Me Lady…” Violet whispered.
“Ye want to see Martin.”
“Please stop.” She covered her face with the notebook. “I beg of ye.”
Edith burst out laughing. She held her stomach, leaning against the wall as she laughed properly for the first time in days.
Violet looked around frantically, as though a hidden passage might suddenly appear and swallow her whole. “Stop laughin’.”
“I cannae.”
“Me Lady,” Violet whined. “We should hurry. Yer lesson.”
“’Tis nae goin’ to start without me. Remember?”
Violet opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped, her face turning a deeper shade of red. She nodded in resignation.
I cannae believe this.
Edith straightened, smoothing her gown before continuing down the corridor.
Martin opened the door before they could knock. His eyes landed first on Edith, then on Violet and the notebook in her hand.
A faint frown creased his face. “Have I missed somethin’?”
“Good mornin’, Martin,” Edith greeted, trying her hardest to hide her amusement. “This is Violet, me companion.” She turned to Violet. “Violet?—”
“Thank ye!” Violet blurted, shoving the notebook awkwardly into Edith’s hands as she curtsied. “Mornin’. Pardon me.” She spun around, hurrying down the corridor until she disappeared out of sight.
Edith slowly turned back to Martin, her bewildered expression mirroring the look on his face.
“Forgive me,” she managed. “I think she is a bit unwell this morning.”
It was ridiculous, but it was the best she could come up with given the situation.
