Obsidian Eyes (22 page)

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Authors: A.W. Exley

BOOK: Obsidian Eyes
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“And Allie?” Zeb probed, gathering information about the problem at hand.

“She’s generous, intelligent, spirited and… well, it’s not like we move in the same social circles.” Now Jared wore the frown. The social disparity between them was immense. Even though Scotland was more forward thinking and valued skill as much as birth, society still expected a base level of breeding. He hated to admit Allie was right on that point.

Zeb looked lost again. “But you do, here at school we all gather together.” He pointed out the obvious flaw in Jared’s argument.

Jared went back to scowling. “I mean her status, she’s not noble born.”

“Is status a prerequisite for friendship?” Zeb asked, still trying to pick his way through the social minefield.

“No, not with her.” Jared grasped for the words. He couldn’t think how to articulate the difference between Allie and noble girls or why he found himself drawn to her. Uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, he tried a different tact. He deflected the subject back onto Zeb. “Isn’t it about time we started casting around for likely candidates for your marriage prospects?”

Zeb baulked at the mere suggestion of him finding a helpmate in life. “Me? I certainly don’t need a girl in my life, from my observations of you and Duncan they seem to cause no end of problems.”

Jared warmed to the change of topic now. “One day you will need a wife, so we need to try and find some likely prospects for you now. I doubt you’ll ever see a girl again once you’re locked in a lab full time.”

“Why would I need to marry?” Zeb held us his hands as though to ward off the suggestion. “I’m perfectly happy with a laboratory and my experiments.”

“Because, Zeb, one day you will be out in the big wide world and you will need somebody to ensure you have clean socks in the morning and that you get fed in the evenings.” It worried Jared, to think how Zeb would cope without him and Duncan looking out for him once school finished.

“I shall employ domestics to look after my basic needs,” Zeb announced as though it were the perfect solution.

“And who will remember to pay them?” It was now Jared’s turn to smile as his friend squirmed. “Think of it as an anthropology experiment. And besides, female company is not entirely without its benefits. So long as you pick the right one.”

Monday, 12
th
September.

loise buzzed with the forthcoming events for what little remained of the term. She kept up a steady stream of chatter, heedless of the lack of response from her roommate.

“We have such a busy week ahead. There’s the closing dance next Friday and we have to start packing,” Eloise mused aloud into her open wardrobe.

Allie lay on her bed clutching a small rubber ball as she stared at the ceiling, wondering how Eloise climbed up there to paint the night sky sparkling down on her. Deciding on a star, she tossed the ball at her intended overhead target.

“What’s the closing dance?” she asked, catching the ball on the rebound. She heard snippets about the ball but hadn’t bothered to find out anything further. Given she was banned from dance class, it held no interest for her.

Eloise emerged from the wardrobe to give Allie a startled look. “Oh, I forgot Madeline had you thrown out. It’s the last dance of the term, a chance to get all dressed up. It’s like our own tiny ball.”

“Sounds lovely,” Allie said, tongue firmly in her cheek. She sent a silent prayer of thanks to Madeline for getting her tossed out. “I’m sure you’ll have a fantastic time dancing the night away. Make sure you get at least one dance with Duncan. I can reassure you that despite his size, he is much lighter on his feet than Zeb.”

“But you have to come too.” Eloise gave up on the in-depth examination of the wardrobe and sat on the edge of the bed.

Allie sat up and shook her head, keen to nip the conversation in the bud before Eloise got carried away. “Now, we wouldn’t like to upset Madeline would we?”

“Yes we would, actually,” she replied matter of factly. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Back down. You won’t stand up to Madeline. She constantly picks at you, throwing insults, tripping you in the corridor, and you just take it.”

Allie chewed her bottom lip. “I know Madeline’s type, she will never stop. Hamilton will give it up, once I figure out the best way to handle him. But Madeline? It would never be over with her.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do.” Allie gave a sigh, picked up a pillow and then cradled it to her chest. “In Egypt I lived with the harem but I was apart from them. Poppa was an honoured guest of the sultan, so I had freedom to come and go. One girl in particular was jealous of the way I could slip in and out of the palace walls and roam the streets or explore the ruins.

“Suhar would tease me, like Madeline does, and I threw everything back at her. We got into a couple of fights, but I always won. So she changed tactics. Soot mixed in my soap. A favourite toy smashed. Then one day, she found the small drawing of my mother that I kept hidden under my mat and she burned it.” She buried her face in the pillow, holding back tears that threatened to spill at the memory.

Eloise laid a hand on Allie’s arm. “I’m so sorry, that’s horrid. What did you do?”

“I cut up her most expensive gown and placed dung beetles in her shoes. As hard as she pushed me, I pushed back. Then one morning I found a bowl of candy by my bed. The other women teased me and said Hakim had it delivered. That he wanted to fatten me up, to put meat on my bones. They embarrassed me, so I wouldn’t touch the sweets. Latifah, the Sultan’s favourite, snatched up the bowl and swallowed several pieces whole. Then she started screaming.”

A soft gasp came from Eloise, the hand on Allie’s arm tightened.

“The guards tortured the small delivery boy. He said Suhar gave him the bowl. Terrified, she admitted to lacing the candy with slivers of glass and metal, intending for me to eat them. The shards shredded Latifah’s oesophagus as she swallowed. It took three days for her to die, when the glass perforated her bowel. On the fourth day, Suhar died.”

“How?”

“The sultan turns a blind eye to the mischief in the harem but killing his favourite couldn’t go unpunished. Suhar was placed in a large sack with a cannon ball between her feet. The sack was sewn shut and then thrown into the river. We all had to stand in silence and watch justice at work, listening to her muffled screams as the sack sank. Then the crocodiles moved off the bank to investigate. Two people died because I pushed back at a bully.”

Arms wrapped around Allie, holding her tight. “Suhar chose her actions, the outcome was not your fault.” Eloise whispered against her hair.

Long moments passed. A shudder tore through her frame and then she locked away the tears deep inside once more. Looking at her friend, she found a grim set to Eloise’s jaw.

“You’re looking at the problem wrong. We still fight her but we use our tactics, not hers. Don’t challenge her openly. There are small, unseen ways to battle her type, but you cannot let her win.
We
will not let her win.”

Allie narrowed her eyes. “I’m starting to think I should have eaten the candy.”

Eloise punched her in the arm. “Enough of that talk. The dance is a masked ball. You can go and she will never know. Another round she won’t win.”

Allie didn’t want to attend the ball. The thought of socialising with the blue bloods left her cold. She would be a fraud amongst them, waiting for someone to point a finger and denounce her. A frown pulled at her face.

Jared promised he wouldn’t tell, but can I trust him?

“Oh buck up,” Eloise cajoled her. “You’ll enjoy it once you’re there.”

Allie laid down her trump card. “You are also forgetting I packed my ball gown in my other carpet bag.” Certainly Eloise would leave her alone to her quiet contemplations now.

A cheeky smile stole over her friend’s face. “But I’ve been working on that when you’ve been out riding. I have altered one of my gowns to fit you.”

“Eloise Bainbridge!” It was Allie’s turn to exclaim. “I swear you get me into worse situations than Jared does. In fact I think I’d rather face a couple of armed ruffians.”

Eloise edged closer to her. “Care to make the evening interesting? I bet Madeline won’t recognise you, but Jared will.”

Allie frowned. “How would that work? Surely if one knows I am there, the other will too? So you would lose the bet, I will either have a disguise to fool them both, or not at all.”

“Nope,” Eloise said. “He will know. Are you certain enough to bet on that?”

Allie was curious and certain if she kept quiet she would definitely fool both of them. Particularly if she also kept well out of their way, didn’t talk to anyone and possibly hid in a corner. “All right. What exactly will the forfeit be for the loser?”

Eloise laid out her terms. “If I am right and he recognises you, then you have to come shopping with me in London and let me buy you something gorgeous.”

Allie groaned at the very idea of a full-on shopping assault with Eloise but it gave her a potential out. “And if he doesn’t recognise me, you can’t try to drag me to either shopping or dancing for the rest of the year.”

Eloise pouted at the idea. “Agreed,” she finally said and they shook on it.

“Now show me what on earth you have been up to and why you are so certain we can fool Madeline.” Allie burned with curiosity to see what Eloise had made for her to wear.

Her friend stepped to the wardrobe, flung back the door and pulled out her pet project. A deep rust-coloured taffeta skirt and bodice, both intricately embellished with climbing vines of small black beads.

Allie let out a soft whistle. “You’re a wonder with a needle. I thought you worked on frogs, rats, and dogs.” She rose from her bed to finger the expensive material.

“I started on fabric and worked my way up to frogs. Reptile skin is quite different to stitch compared to rodents. Slippery, like silk.”

Allie raised an eyebrow, only Eloise would use silk to practice her stitches for frog surgery. “This is more than stitching a sampler, this is pattern-making and design.”

Eloise let out a small sigh. “My family is titled, not moneyed. Mother taught me how to give the appearance without spending as much as everyone else. It’s far cheaper to buy fabric and construct yourself, hence why I know how to sew and make a garment.” She looked a little wistful. “Good old grandfather spent our family fortune on alcohol, women and very slow race horses.”

“But your family still owns its estates?” Allie wondered, certain the family would have lost the title along with the estates and fortune.

“Yes. Fortunately, Father is an academic; he was studying economics at Oxford when Grandfather placed his last losing bet that nearly bankrupted the family. Marrying Mother brought in much needed capital, which Father nurtured with prudent investments. We’re now able to muddle through adequately.” She waved at the wardrobe of clothing. “We live economically, not lavishly.”

“You can make a dress and stitch a wound, you’re a marvel.”

Eloise looked at her with world-weary eyes. “But unfortunately, the biological sciences are not seen as a suitable pursuit for a young lady.”

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