Two Dark Reigns (Three Dark Crowns #3)(27)

All through breakfast, Mirabella tries to eat as though nothing is wrong. She butters her toast and drops sugar into her tea. Pretends to listen to Mrs. Chatworth and Jane gossip about the governor’s wife’s birthday party or coo over the little dog and the ribbon on his collar. Only Billy seems aware that anything is amiss, his gaze flitting from the dark circles beneath Arsinoe’s eyes to Mirabella’s tense fingers and then back again.

They had barely slept. They had simply sat side by side on Arsinoe’s bed until the candles had burned down to nubs. Finally, in the early gray hours of predawn, Arsinoe had lain down and let her eyes drift shut. But the moment she closed them, the muttering commenced. Mirabella shook her awake, but every time she slept, it would begin again.

Mirabella does not know what the dreams mean or if they are true visions or simply nightmares. She does not know if Arsinoe really saw the shadow of the Blue Queen, though her hands ache from clinging to the crumpled paper of Arsinoe’s drawing. All she knows is what she can feel: that it is the island reaching out for them again.

“A party at the governor’s grand estate!” exclaims Jane as if they had not already been talking about it for the last half hour.

“Indeed.” Mrs. Chatworth says, tapping into a soft-boiled egg and feeding a bit to her new pet. At least that idea of Arsinoe’s seems to have gone smoothly. “We will need a new jacket for you, Billy; I saw one in the shops that will do. And Jane, you must wear your new lilac silk. There will be plenty of eligible bachelors there; perhaps I can marry off both of my children in one afternoon!”

At the mention of Billy’s marriage, Arsinoe stops eating, and Mirabella turns to Billy with an arched eyebrow.

He clears his throat.

“I’m not looking for a wife, Mother.”

“Christine Hollen is a fine choice. Everyone in the city knows she has set her cap at you.”

“Mother, did you not hear what I said?”

“And did you not hear what I said?” Mrs. Chatworth asks. “Your father, it seems, is in no hurry to return from”—she glances sidelong at Mirabella and Arsinoe—“that place, and without him our creditors will come calling. The partners will push us out, and before you know it, the estate at Hartford will be gone, and this town house will be gone, and the business will be gone, and we will be ruined! And all you need do to save us is ask for Christine Hollen’s hand.”

“If I ask for her foot instead, do you think they’ll just give us a loan?” Billy asks, and Arsinoe barks surprised laughter into her napkin.

“May we be excused?” Mirabella asks, and grabs her. “I am afraid my sister and I have slept poorly. Perhaps a bit of fresh air . . .”

“I’ll join you,” Billy says, and starts to rise.

“You will not. You’ll stay and come to the shops with Jane and me to be fitted for your jacket. And you.” Mrs. Chatworth fixes her gaze on Mirabella. “You and your sister are my guests, and how you conduct yourselves reflects on my house. Make sure to take your parasols. And make sure she wears a dress.”

Mirabella assures her that she will, though it will be easier said than done, and pushes Arsinoe gently up the stairs. Not ten minutes later, Billy knocks at their door and pokes his head in.

“I’ve managed to put my mother off jacket shopping for the time being,” he says, and glances at Arsinoe, who is still dressed in trousers and one of his old shirts.

Mirabella gestures to her sister helplessly. “She has it in her mind that she should start passing herself off as a boy.”

“It’s my fault, I suppose.” He softly closes the door. “For letting her have so many of my clothes.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Arsinoe says from her dresser, where she is rummaging through drawers. “Billy, would you lend me a pair of your socks? I know how protective you are of them, but you have several dozen pair.”

“And I’ve lent you at least five pair already. What have you done with those?”

“Does it look like I know?” She tosses long white stockings and other frilly underclothes out of the drawer and onto the floor. “Just give me the socks, will you, Henry?”

She stops.

“Who’s Henry?” Billy asks.

Arsinoe turns and quickly walks past him to search under Mirabella’s bed.

“No one,” she says. “Isn’t that your middle name? William Henry Chatworth Junior?” She comes up brandishing black socks.

“You know it isn’t,” Billy says. “Now who is Henry?”

“She will explain later.” Mirabella takes Arsinoe by the shoulder and tugs her through the door, even as she struggles to put on her last shoe. “If I do not get her out of the house soon, your mother will change her mind and confine us to our room.”

“That was close,” Arsinoe whispers as they walk down the front steps.

Mirabella grasps her by the elbow. “You are in far better spirits than I would expect, considering.”

“Well, I got more sleep than you did.” Arsinoe ventures a smile, but it fades when Mirabella is unmoved. “I can’t explain it. The dreams are good dreams. They feel safe.”

“And the Blue Queen’s shadow? Did she feel safe?”

Arsinoe swallows. “No. She felt like a threat.”