Edith’s pulse spiked. Finally, excitement. “Good evening.”
Neville and Valentine stood up, habits she guessed since they weren’t obliged to.
“Hello, gentlemen.” Daphne clamped a hand on Neville’s neck and pulled him down for a passionate kiss.
Edith couldn’t completely stifle a gasp as they kissed rather ardently.
“Edith is becoming a prude,” Daphne said, once she disentangled her tongue from Neville’s. “But she did pose for one of Valentine’s paintings today.”
Neville chuckled. “He’s lucky to have beautiful models who pose for him.”
“Who wouldn’t pose for him?” Daphne said, taking a chair.
Neville shuffled the cards, staring at Edith with an intensity she didn’t like. “Is something the matter? You look upset.”
“It’s because of that nephew of yours,” Daphne said with a dismissive hand. “Since Edith learnt he was back, she’s very uptight.”
“Daphne!”
Neville stopped shuffling the cards. “Why would that be?”
Maybe it was Edith’s imagination, but she heard a strained note in his voice. “I haven’t seen Perry in years. I’m nervous.”
“Are you two close?” Neville asked, leaning forth.
“We’re friends.”
Daphne poked her with an elbow. “More than friends, I’m sure.”
Neville narrowed his glacial eyes, resuming the shuffling.
“The way Edith blushes said it all,” Valentine said.
Edith ignored them. “What’s the game?”
“Whist.” Neville dealt the cards. “Our clothes are the tokens. Let’s place a bet. The winner can choose to have a tumble with one of the losers, or more than one.”
Edith closed her fists. “Absolutely not.”
“Spoilsport. Just play. Why do you care?” Daphne said, handing her a glass of champagne she’d taken from somewhere. “It’s just for fun. No consequences, remember?”
“Well?” Neville prompted. “I’m game.”
Absolutely not. She would never, ever have a tumble with either Neville or Valentine.
She took the glass of champagne. “I don’t make these types of bets.”
She was a liar and a fraud, but she still had some dignity.
And that was it.
