The Betrayal of the Blood Lily: A Pink Carnation Novel by Lauren Willig

Author:Lauren Willig [Willig, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0451232054
Amazon: B0051BNTV0
Publisher: NAL Trade
Published: 2010-01-02T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

It was midnight, bleak and frigid cold, by the time I struggled up the Tube steps at Bayswater Station.

There was no self-indulgent cab on the way home from the movies. It was nearly midnight and Cinderella’s coach had turned back into a pumpkin. Or a Tube train, as the case might be.

I huddled down into my coat and clamped my elbow over my bag as I navigated my way down Queensway. It wasn’t entirely deserted—there were still lights on in the pub at one end of the road and the odd group of roving tourists—but the daytime crowds had gone and the shops were shuttered. Crumpled take-out wrappers and abandoned tourist brochures littered the street, bumping along in the wind like an urban version of tumbleweed. The whole stretch had the derelict feel of a party space after the party had gone.

The James Bond theme music was still playing in my head, bringing with it that rush one gets after a really good action movie. I wasn’t ready to go home and go virtuously to bed. I wanted lights, people, conversation.

There wasn’t much I could do about the first two, but I could manage the third. As I turned off Queensway, I fished my mobile out of my bag. It was a bit late to be calling, but that was the nice thing—well, one of the nice things—about having a boyfriend. You didn’t have to worry about things like socially acceptable calling hours with them.

Scrolling down through my contacts list, I hit “Colin.” It had taken me a while to program him into my phone, as though by presuming him permanent enough to be enshrined in my contacts list along with my parents, Pammy, and my favorite pizza place, I might somehow jinx the whole thing.

The phone rang twice, then three times, before Colin finally picked up. “Selwick.”

I must have caught him in the middle of working on something, because his voice had a preoccupied sound to it and I could hear the clack, clack, clack of computer keys still going in the background. Or that might have just been the static on the line. Cell to cell does not always make for the best connection.

“Hi!” I shrilled, my breath coming in pants as I tried to walk, talk, and keep my head down against the wind all at the same time. “It’s me.”

“Me?” The clack, clack, clack had stopped at least.

“Eloise,” I specified. I stopped short of adding “your girlfriend.” Although I was pretty sure I was, we had never actually specified that bit. “How many women do you have calling you in the wee hours?”

“The hour isn’t exactly wee yet,” pointed out Colin, with that amused note in his voice that I loved so well. I could picture him settling back in his incredibly uncomfortable desk chair, wedging his mobile more snugly against his ear. “It’s not yet midnight.”

“Close enough,” I chattered. “How’s the book going?”

“Slowly.” Colin was, or so he claimed, working on a spy novel.

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