Imprudence (The Custard Protocol #2)(50)

Rue said, “That book I was telling you about? I believe Percy has a copy. Would you like to…??”

Quesnel followed her lead with the consummate skill of a natural charlatan. “Yes, indeed.”

Lady Maccon gave only a slight rolling of her eyes to indicate her suspicions.

Rue suppressed a giggle as Quesnel guided her into the library.

A cursory glance about the stacks proved the room to be empty.

Quesnel had her back in his arms in a trice. “Where were we?”

“I believe your lips were here.” Rue pointed. “And your hands here.” She pointed again. “And mine were here.” At the last, she suited her actions to her words.

“What a good memory you have, Lady Prudence.” Quesnel was intent on covering her neck with kisses – what he could reach through the ruffles of her dress.

The library door banged open, interrupting them again. They sprang apart. Quesnel hurriedly buttoned his waistcoat. Rue patted at her ruffles to ensure they weren’t in disarray.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Percy glared. It was hard to tell whether he was annoyed at having discovered them in a compromising position or annoyed at encountering anyone at all.

“Come for a book, have you? Giving in to temptation at last?” Rue retorted quickly.

“Certainly not! In case you have forgotten, my desk is here. I wasn’t going to read anything, only look something up.”

He pointed to a corner where he’d pushed some books aside to make room for a tiny escritoire. Above it, he and Virgil had contrived a unique candelabra made up of hundreds of tiny books, on a pulley system that could twirl and raise and lower. The person seated at the desk could access any book he wanted.

“What on earth is that?” Quesnel was entranced.

“My information cloud.” Percy was distracted into an explanation of his own brilliance. “It’s an index of sorts. If I swing it like so…”

The door opened again. Primrose entered, followed by Tasherit.

“You most certainly are!” the werelioness was saying.

“I am not!” Prim responded, before noticing she had an audience. “Rue. Mr Lefoux. Percy.”

“Miss Tunstell.” Quesnel gave a slight bow. “Miss Sekhmet.”

“Is everyone to invade my library?” Percy wanted to know.

“We were here first.” Rue wasn’t about to be bossed around by Percival Tunstell on her own ship.

“I very much noticed. But it’s my library!”

“You haven’t been using it.”

“That doesn’t mean you should be fornicating in here. This is a sacred space.”

Primrose turned to Rue. “Fornicating? In a library! Oh, Rue.”

Tasherit remained perturbed by something Primrose had said and didn’t care about Rue’s indiscretions. Well, to be fair, she wasn’t British. She didn’t think the same way.

“Wait a moment.” Rue was struck with confusion. “Tasherit, what are you doing awake?”

“Oh, didn’t you notice?” Percy was snide. “We’ve puffed out of the grey. Occupied with something else?” He gave Quesnel a nasty look.

Quesnel issued a smug smile at Percy.

Tasherit said, “Did you know Primrose was engaged?”

The question wasn’t addressed to anyone in particular, so Rue, Percy, and Quesnel all nodded.

“Was I the only one not told?” The werecat did not look honoured by the exception. “Odd to be so singled out.”

“I hadn’t seen you to tell you.” Never had Rue known Primrose to lie in such a barefaced manner.

“Fiddlesticks!” The word sounded exotic with Tasherit’s accent. “You’ve been avoiding me this entire journey. When I haven’t been asleep.”

Rue’s, Quesnel’s, and Percy’s focus bounced back and forth between the combatants as though watching a badminton match.

Prim went on the defensive. “If you wouldn’t press me so!”

Tasherit’s beautiful face came over all inscrutable. “I enjoy your company. I hardly think that pressure.”

Footnote made an appearance at that juncture, ambling up in a welcoming manner until he spotted Tasherit, at which point his tail bristled up like a bottlebrush and he hissed.

The werecat sniffed. “Well, I know when I’m not wanted.”

Despite Quesnel’s and Rue’s protestations, she exited the library with graceful finality.

Rue said to Footnote, although she was really addressing Primrose, “You’re a bit tough on our stunning friend. She is a valuable member of my crew, you know.”

Footnote subsided into a loaf position, looking like an upended Christmas pudding with interested ears.

Percy leapt to his cat’s defence. “He’s entitled to his own opinion.”

Rue could hardly argue with that. “You’d best be wary, moggie. She is much bigger than you. Could easily turn you into an Endnote.”

The little black and white tom twitched his whiskers.

Percy said staunchly, “He’s tougher than he appears.”

Rue looked at Primrose. Enough time had passed for her to calm down a bit. “What on earth is wrong, Prim?”

Primrose closed her eyes. “Arguing with that woman is like fighting a blancmange. Press too lightly and she only wobbles, press too hard and you get engulfed into her squishy mindset. It’s disconcerting.”