Manners & Mutiny
Page 80
“Soap, what are you—”
And then they were both kneeling, and Sophronia was in his arms. Embarrassment didn’t really matter, for he was kissing her fiercely and that was awfully nice, although also embarrassing. Her lip had been split at some point and her face really did ache, but she hadn’t the strength to stop it even if she’d wanted to.
Eventually, he paused, tilted her back, and took a good long look at her.
“I thought you were dead.”
“Evidently not, or I’m a rather substantial ghost.”
Soap kissed her again, because he could, and because she wasn’t a ghost, although this time carefully on the uninjured side of her mouth. Sophronia liked that so much, she forgot about her injuries, for a short space of time, and kissed him back.
Finally he drew away. Both of them were out of breath, as if they had been swimming in a cold lake. Though that was not at all how Sophronia felt.
“It won’t work, Soap. The dewan. My parents, society, no one will permit—”
Soap put his hand over her mouth. “Enough of that. Think of it as a challenge.”
Sophronia cocked her head.
“No, listen to me for a change. What you have forgotten is that we are both already outside of society. I don’t have to fit into your world, and you are already in mine. We share these shadows. What did you think would happen with your indenture? The dewan knows that you’re better in the field. You’d be wasted on marriage to some prince or duke. Why do you think he’s kept me secret? He wants us teamed up—intelligencers to the Crown, Geraldine’s trained and werewolf strong. I think we’d make a great pair, in more ways than one.”
Sophronia really considered what he was saying. And, shockingly, it seemed almost possible.
She stuck her tongue through her lips to lick his hand. With a start, he dropped it.
She looked into his eyes. “Marriage would not be possible. No office would provide a license, not to you and me, not for any bribe.”
“Did I ask to wed? I was rather hoping we could live happily in sin for a very long time. Lovers has a nice ring to it.”
Sophronia huffed out a startled laugh. “How very French. No one of any rank would receive me if they knew.” But she kind of liked the idea. I would never have to lose my freedom to a husband. I thought Soap would insist on being honorable, because he is such an honorable person. Silly of me not to remember he can also be sensible.
“Shadows, my heart. No one need know.”
“Endearments, already?”
If he could have, Soap would have blushed. “Too soon? I’ve said it so often in my head, it slipped out.”
Sophronia tried a tentative smile. “I don’t mind. It’s only, what do I call you?”
Soap’s face lit up. He knew she wasn’t trying to evade the conversation, that she liked the idea. “I’m rather partial to honey-sop piggle-wig.”
Sophronia raised an eyebrow.
Soap grinned at her. “You’ll come up with something, but it has to happen naturally.”
“Very well, dear… No, that doesn’t work.”
Soap wrinkled his nose. He had a very nice nose. “Most certainly not. Too stiff.”
“I’ll give it consideration, honey-sop piggle-wig.”
“Please don’t. When you think about things, Sophronia, they only get more complicated. This thing between us could be so very easy, if you let it.” He spread both his hands over her waist, daring to move them in a circular caress. Sophronia felt warmer than she ought where he touched her.
“If I choose you, Soap, I intend to honor the choice. We will have to determine, together, what that means.”
“I don’t want to hold you through loyalty, my heart.”
Sophronia cocked her head. “Yes, you do. Loyalty is the only moral compass I have. It’s our best foundation. And you have earned it.”
Soap’s face fell. “And what of love?”
Sophronia was uncomfortable with the intimacy of the question, but she also knew that this would be part of their future. One couldn’t live in shadows without some clarity. Soap would need to know her heart. Sophronia examined it closely. Am I strong enough to risk giving it to him?
“Yes, that, too. We always did belong to each other, didn’t we?” With which she finally took on the responsibility of allowing him to love her.
“Took you long enough to accept.” He’d heard the vow under her words.
It seemed almost ritually sacred to kiss at that juncture. It was also terrifying and overwhelming.
And because Soap understood her so well, he drew back, giving her time to realign her perspective on the way the world worked.
He changed the subject. “How did you get here?”
“Oh, you know, I happened to be in town. I hear the new muffs are in from France.”
Soap started to smile and then wouldn’t let himself. “Oh, but really, my heart, what did you do to yourself?” He whispered fingers near her eyes and nose, careful not to apply any pressure.
“It’s a very long story.”
“Two black eyes?”
“And a shoulder out of its socket. Not to mention various other assorted bumps and bruises. I did jump out of an airship, I’ll have you know.”
“And take on a whole mess of Picklemen and flywaymen, said Mademoiselle Geraldine.”
“Oh, good, she made it down safely? And Dimity and Agatha and the sooties?”
And then they were both kneeling, and Sophronia was in his arms. Embarrassment didn’t really matter, for he was kissing her fiercely and that was awfully nice, although also embarrassing. Her lip had been split at some point and her face really did ache, but she hadn’t the strength to stop it even if she’d wanted to.
Eventually, he paused, tilted her back, and took a good long look at her.
“I thought you were dead.”
“Evidently not, or I’m a rather substantial ghost.”
Soap kissed her again, because he could, and because she wasn’t a ghost, although this time carefully on the uninjured side of her mouth. Sophronia liked that so much, she forgot about her injuries, for a short space of time, and kissed him back.
Finally he drew away. Both of them were out of breath, as if they had been swimming in a cold lake. Though that was not at all how Sophronia felt.
“It won’t work, Soap. The dewan. My parents, society, no one will permit—”
Soap put his hand over her mouth. “Enough of that. Think of it as a challenge.”
Sophronia cocked her head.
“No, listen to me for a change. What you have forgotten is that we are both already outside of society. I don’t have to fit into your world, and you are already in mine. We share these shadows. What did you think would happen with your indenture? The dewan knows that you’re better in the field. You’d be wasted on marriage to some prince or duke. Why do you think he’s kept me secret? He wants us teamed up—intelligencers to the Crown, Geraldine’s trained and werewolf strong. I think we’d make a great pair, in more ways than one.”
Sophronia really considered what he was saying. And, shockingly, it seemed almost possible.
She stuck her tongue through her lips to lick his hand. With a start, he dropped it.
She looked into his eyes. “Marriage would not be possible. No office would provide a license, not to you and me, not for any bribe.”
“Did I ask to wed? I was rather hoping we could live happily in sin for a very long time. Lovers has a nice ring to it.”
Sophronia huffed out a startled laugh. “How very French. No one of any rank would receive me if they knew.” But she kind of liked the idea. I would never have to lose my freedom to a husband. I thought Soap would insist on being honorable, because he is such an honorable person. Silly of me not to remember he can also be sensible.
“Shadows, my heart. No one need know.”
“Endearments, already?”
If he could have, Soap would have blushed. “Too soon? I’ve said it so often in my head, it slipped out.”
Sophronia tried a tentative smile. “I don’t mind. It’s only, what do I call you?”
Soap’s face lit up. He knew she wasn’t trying to evade the conversation, that she liked the idea. “I’m rather partial to honey-sop piggle-wig.”
Sophronia raised an eyebrow.
Soap grinned at her. “You’ll come up with something, but it has to happen naturally.”
“Very well, dear… No, that doesn’t work.”
Soap wrinkled his nose. He had a very nice nose. “Most certainly not. Too stiff.”
“I’ll give it consideration, honey-sop piggle-wig.”
“Please don’t. When you think about things, Sophronia, they only get more complicated. This thing between us could be so very easy, if you let it.” He spread both his hands over her waist, daring to move them in a circular caress. Sophronia felt warmer than she ought where he touched her.
“If I choose you, Soap, I intend to honor the choice. We will have to determine, together, what that means.”
“I don’t want to hold you through loyalty, my heart.”
Sophronia cocked her head. “Yes, you do. Loyalty is the only moral compass I have. It’s our best foundation. And you have earned it.”
Soap’s face fell. “And what of love?”
Sophronia was uncomfortable with the intimacy of the question, but she also knew that this would be part of their future. One couldn’t live in shadows without some clarity. Soap would need to know her heart. Sophronia examined it closely. Am I strong enough to risk giving it to him?
“Yes, that, too. We always did belong to each other, didn’t we?” With which she finally took on the responsibility of allowing him to love her.
“Took you long enough to accept.” He’d heard the vow under her words.
It seemed almost ritually sacred to kiss at that juncture. It was also terrifying and overwhelming.
And because Soap understood her so well, he drew back, giving her time to realign her perspective on the way the world worked.
He changed the subject. “How did you get here?”
“Oh, you know, I happened to be in town. I hear the new muffs are in from France.”
Soap started to smile and then wouldn’t let himself. “Oh, but really, my heart, what did you do to yourself?” He whispered fingers near her eyes and nose, careful not to apply any pressure.
“It’s a very long story.”
“Two black eyes?”
“And a shoulder out of its socket. Not to mention various other assorted bumps and bruises. I did jump out of an airship, I’ll have you know.”
“And take on a whole mess of Picklemen and flywaymen, said Mademoiselle Geraldine.”
“Oh, good, she made it down safely? And Dimity and Agatha and the sooties?”
