“You really like your home, don’t you?” She considered. “I need to visit my family regularly. I mean, besides the part where I’m working on this for them. But I don’t need to live there. I have an awful schedule for spending time with people who aren’t working at a nightclub.”
“I like a quiet evening on my own,” Farran pointed out. “Or there are portals. For sometimes.” He took a breath. “I think it’s something we’d need to talk through. In more detail. Not just when you’re actually working, or when I’m working, but all the things around that.”
“I might be able to get Sundays off, too.” Vega offered after a little. “It would depend. But they are quieter, and Madam Helena might like to have a night to give people a trial more simply. It’d be worth talking through.”
“Let’s set that aside then, for the moment. We think there’s a possible solution. It will take more information, and we have other things to talk about.”
“We do.” Vega let out a huff of breath. “What else?”
“Vandermeer. And then, depending how much time we have, a bit more of what we’d like together. Or do you want to save that part for when you don’t need to be at work?”
“I’d rather save it. I’d hate to, erm. Have to stop.”
Chapter 28
A LITTLE LATER
Farran had to look away at that comment about not wanting to stop. He felt the same, or at least, as much the same as those words could convey. He was certain that if, when, somehow; they got onto the topic of each other, of creating something together between them, stopping would be the worst thing ever. And the thing was, talking was necessary. The logistics, even with both of them trying their best, were messy and complicated, and there’d never be enough hours in the day. At least not as long as Vega was performing.
Farran was not the sort of man who would ever suggest someone he cared about give up what she loved for convenience or even for love. That wasn’t love, that was a cage, and he wanted no part of that.
It was part, he thought, of why so many of his previous relationships hadn’t worked. The women he’d walked out with had ideas of what a relationship looked like, who was responsible for what, and all of those chafed. As much as his first apprenticeship had. Even if it hadn’t bothered him, he couldn’t do that to someone else.
Now he cleared his throat. “Might I join you on the sofa?” It would be easier than craning over the table, and he wanted,well. He wanted to be closer. Even if they were still figuring out so many things. She blinked at him, then smiled, the sort of smile that was all invitation, and nodded. Farran moved, sitting next to her, not quite touching, but almost immediately her fingers moved to thread through his. “There.” It sounded inane.
“Vandermeer.” Vega seemed to force herself to focus. “We should lay out what we both know. Oh. I should apologise, maybe? Tell you, anyway.”
“Apologise?” Farran wasn’t sure what she’d be apologising for. “Yes? If you feel the need.”
She squeezed his fingers once. “I went and talked to Mistress Porter about you. After we had the meeting at Ormulu. I don’t know if she’d have mentioned.”
“Vivian is extremely thorough about her discretion, so no, she didn’t. Not about anything that might be any kind of consultation.” Farran was, actually, encouraged. “What did you ask her?”
“If you knew about her being a Cousin. And she said...” Vega gestured with her free hand. “That you’d been out at one of the estates with her a few times.”
“Doing research in advance of your questions, then.” Farran shifted to look at her. “Do you think I’d be upset by that? There are excellent reasons for doing a bit of research before going out on a limb. And especially with something that you, all of your family, keep private for excellent reasons.”
Vega let out a huff of breath, loud enough he could hear it. “Most people don’t understand.” Her chin twitched. “People at the club don’t know. Though maybe Madam Helena does. I haven’t told her, though.”
Farran nodded. “She runs things well, from everything you’ve said. And she’s been around in the larger community for a long while, I know that.” He considered. “May I ask about that? And then about Vandermeer.”
“Yes, of course.” Vega twisted slightly, so now they were more or less looking at each other, their knees barely touching, hand in hand.
“When you sing, obviously, you’re using some magic, but I’m curious about what kinds. Not least because I’m wondering if Vandermeer has picked up on something related.” Also, Farran was curious, but he’d not have asked, not here and now, if there hadn’t been an actual reason.
“I’m trained in Incantation, the same as many people. Well, most performers in Albion at my level or a bit below, honestly. It’s the obvious choice for us. The use of the voice, the body, spoken enchantment.” Vega considered. “And you think that’s relevant?”
“What we know about Vandermeer is - not as much as I’d like. That he approached you, initially. That he’s turned up at the club. Vivian did a little checking for me. He’s registered as a guest at the Cecil. He’s been in town for a month or two, and he’s been having the sort of business meetings that suggests import and export trade.” Farran added after a moment, “Which can often be a cover for people with rather less legal interests. She was working on some American connections, but that’s tricky.” He paused. “Would he recognise you as a Cousin? Even potentially? Or know about the object you’re— we’re— looking for?”
Vega bit her lip, and then let go of Farran’s hand so she could reach for her tea. Farran was glad she liked it. It was a blend Vivian preferred, and it had seemed the right mix of something with flavour and something ephemeral. When Vega spoke again, it was not an answer, but rather a question. “What do you make of him, first? Besides what little she found out.”
“If I were looking at him as a client?” Farran considered that. “Nicely dressed. A hair too sharply, actually, the sort of sharp dresser where I wonder who he’s trying to impress, ifthat makes sense. It’s not always a terrible reason, and some people do just like being entirely up to the minute. An American tailor, obviously, though I think a magical one.” Farran thought through the rest. “If he showed up at Ormulu, I’d be wanting a profile of his background and accounts. His likelihood of paying his bills, not that we’d ever put it that crassly.”
It made her giggle, and that was worth the phrasing, definitely. “Is that something you have a system for, then? I’m not used to that, I don’t do private parties. That’s a lot of bother and people groping you or thinking that because they’ve paid for your voice, they’ve paid for other things.” Vega met his eyes. “I’m no untouched maiden, but that’s not a path I have any interest in. For one thing, it’s as easy to be quickly discarded as quickly taken up. The current sort of man inclined to take a mistress doesn’t have the staying power of men in the eighteenth century. Or earlier.”
That was not a way anyone had ever put the problem to Farran. “If you were going to be a mistress, you’d want it to be the sort that had an agreement. A cottage or whatever for you whenever he was tired of you. A way to make your own life.”
“That.” Vega set her teacup down again. “Vandermeer.”
