The Sugared Game - K.J. Charles Page 0,51
out of courtesy, which meant he saw Phoebe’s blink. “I’m awfully excited and very grateful to you for that lovely dinner. It’s just all happening a little bit fast.”
“The best kind of happening,” Kim said. “Tell me, what did we think of Adela Moran’s frock? Because I bow to your expertise but I thought she looked like a Russian Futurist painting, and that’s not a compliment.”
“Perhaps not to you, darling. Adela would be delighted.”
Maisie and Phoebe stayed a good hour for cocktails, slander, and gossip that made Will choke laughing before Maisie finally protested she had to work in the morning. Kim went downstairs to have the doorman hail them a taxi-cab, since Phoebe insisted they would share. She lived west and Maisie lived east, so that made limited sense to Will, but he’d had a few drinks and everyone seemed happy.
He waited for Kim to return, watching the fire.
“Hello,” said his partner in crime, slipping back in. “That went well, I think. And you survived.”
“It was a near thing. I can’t believe you managed to distract Fanshawe.”
“I’ve stubbed my toe on things with more intellectual heft than Bubby. How did you find Johnnie Cheveley?”
“He’s an arsehole.”
“Isn’t he?”
“Molyneux didn’t think much of him either.”
“No, he wouldn’t. Johnnie is not an admirer of the modern world. He has old-fashioned ideas on appropriate behaviour for men, women’s place in the world, the superiority of the ruling classes, and so on.”
“He can’t think much about Phoebe working with Maisie, then.”
“Indeed not. It’s Waring’s money, though, so Johnnie will have to live with it. Tell me, what was troubling you when you arrived?”
“What—oh, that,” Will said. “I had a visit from Tommy Telford.”
Kim’s eyes snapped wide. “I beg your pardon?”
Will gave him the story. “Nasty bit of work. I was glad I had the Messer to hand.”
“And it was a generalised message to keep your nose out? No specifics?”
Will shook his head. “It has to be about the High-Low, I suppose. Not sure why he came for me now rather than before, though, or why Fuller wouldn’t do his own dirty work.”
“That might have been a bit unsubtle, perhaps? Or not, given Mrs. Skyrme mentioned Telford to you. Hmm. Are you worried?”
Will shrugged. “If he’d meant to act, he’d have acted. He was there to intimidate me, and he can stick that where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“As night follows day,” Kim murmured. “I’m surprised Zodiac haven’t yet realised you don’t take threats well. Though you will of course take care.”
“Eh. Are you going to tell me what that was about tonight?”
“What part?”
“You making a fuss about Molyneux inviting me to Paris.” In another man he might have assumed jealousy, but that didn’t seem to be one of Kim’s many faults, and he knew better than to take anything at face value by now.
“Ah, yes.” Kim raised a brow. “I don’t know how to break it to you, dear boy, but if Maisie pursues a career in fashion, she is likely to meet people of the homosexual or sapphic persuasions. Try not to be shocked.”
“So?”
“So Phoebe thought she should learn to react in an environment where a misstep wouldn’t hurt. As it turned out, she is sure-footed, and a quick study. I see why you both like her so much. I’d like to know her better myself.”
“It went well, didn’t it?”
“Extremely.”
“I’m grateful,” Will said. “Not that it’s up to me to be grateful for her, but she’s a damned good friend and I want her to have her chance.”
“I feel the same. Phoebe is finding her vocation as a midwife to talent. I should very much like to see them both succeed.”
Will nodded. “Something good would make a nice change. Uh. Were you serious about Molyneux, though?”
Kim’s smile was wicked. “Why, are you interested?”
“No! Just, you know—”
“Flattered?”
“Oh, sod off,” Will said, but he couldn’t help a grin. “Just bear in mind I have options, next time you’re thinking about being an arsehole.”
“That you most certainly do; he was over you like a rash. I don’t blame him: you’re positively delicious in evening dress.”
“I look ridiculous.”
“You do not. You look sophisticatedly thuggish, and quite the most fascinating thing that’s happened to the Criterion in a while. I’ll be fielding enquiries for weeks.”
“You posh lot really aren’t like the rest of us, are you?”
It was meant to be a joke, but it didn’t feel quite like one as he said it, and Kim’s frown suggested he’d noticed. “Is there a problem?”
“Not a problem. It was just a