Joshua snorted, showing what he thought of her characterization of his part in all this.
“What letters?” King said. He sniffed and looked about. “Do I smell meat and pastry?”
Violet looked down at her left hand, where she still held the wrapped meat pie. “You came to the flat to use pen and ink. You said you would pay me after you had a chance to sort out your affairs.”
“Right. I do plan to write several letters to my friends and my solicitor, but there’s no point in rushing. My friends don’t wake until afternoon. So you see”—he turned back toward her closet—“there’s plenty of time for a nap.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” She grasped his sleeve with the hand that held the pie. “Your man of business will be awake and at his offices, so you may start with him. And when your friends wake, they will find your correspondence waiting for them.”
King looked at Georgie. “Is she always like this?”
The boy nodded. “There’s no point in arguing with her. If you keep it up, she’ll start yelling.”
“We wouldn’t want that.”
Georgie shook his head. “It hurts my ears.”
King eyed her. “I can imagine.” Then he sniffed and grasped the hand on his sleeve. Vi tried to pull it away, but she wasn’t fast enough, and he caught hold of the pie. “I knew I smelled pastry and meat.”
“That’s for Vi,” Joshua said, neatly snatching the pie back. Violet hoped Ferryman never saw how agile Joshua was with his hands. He’d put him to work as a pickpocket in a snap.
“Georgie, let’s sit at the table and eat while King begins his letter writing. Joshua—”
“I know. Fetch a quill and parchment.” He went to a drawer in the cabinet that held their dishes and pulled out two precious sheets of parchment as well as her ink and a quill. Her ledger was inside as well. She winced to think about all the expenses she’d have to tally now that she had an idea of what she’d need to replace. Setting the mirror aside, she needed new tables, new chairs, new glasses, and bottles of spirits. Many bottles of spirits.
She and King took chairs at the table, while Georgie balanced on the stool. He unwrapped his pie and looked up at King, who was studying the quill with a frown.
“Do you want half of my pie?” Georgie asked King.
Violet paused in the act of unwrapping hers and stared hard at King. His gaze met hers, and she shook her head.
“No, thank you, Master Georgie. I find I have no appetite all of a sudden.” He gave Violet a meaningful look. She smiled and took a big bite of her pie.
King opened the jar of ink, dipped the quill inside, and attempted to write the date on the parchment. He frowned at the results. “How am I supposed to write with this? The quill is dull, the ink all but dry, and the parchment—”
Joshua stuck a knife in the table so the handle quivered and the blade sank into the scarred wood. “You can sharpen the quill, if you like,” he said.
“You know what I find writes well?” Violet took another bite of the pie. “Blood.”
King gave Joshua then Violet dubious looks and dipped the quill in the ink again. He scratched away for some time. Georgie finished his pie and hopped down from the stool.
“Joshua, you and Georgie go down and help Peggy sweep and carry the last of the rubbish to the yard,” Violet said. “Then she’ll need water and help with the mopping and washing.”
“Come on, Georgie,” Joshua said, holding out a hand. The two of them tromped downstairs, and soon Violet heard the sound of their chatter as they moved in and out, carrying the broken pieces of furnishings.
“I wouldn’t have taken the half of the pie,” King said, looking up at her. “I wouldn’t take food away from a child.”
“You ate the bread that was to be our supper,” she said. “So you’ve already taken food away from a child.”
“I’ll replace it.”
“With what coin? You said that crown was your last.”
King patted the folded parchment before him. “My friends will loan me money. I’ll be flush before nightfall. You’ll see.”
“Well, if that’s the case, you can buy us all supper.”
“Gladly.” He handed her the letters. “Now, if your brother will be so kind as to deliver these as directed, I will just lie down for a moment and rest my—”
