Polly's Gold by Mikala Ash

Author:Mikala Ash [Ash, Mikala]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BIN 010870-03535
Publisher: Changeling Press LLC
Published: 2023-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Dolly the Wagtail

The Pleasure of Billiards

Once we were alone in the music room, Anthony and Mathew took turns to make me the proposition that I had expected. They had found me in the conservatory looking at Allenby’s collection of South American flora. High up came the call of the several colourful parrots who only descended when one entered to ascertain if seed was on offer and flew away when they saw empty hands.

“It is far too humid in here for my liking,” Mathew complained. “Look at the glass, fogged with water dripping down. Come away.”

It was true. Allenby had, during a tour of the house, explained that the conservatory was heated by hot water pipes set in a grid under the floor, and great radiators set in the centre and at every corner of the glass octagon which had been constructed on the southern wall of the house.

Despite the fire, the large music room was quite cool in comparison to the conservatory. I sat at the piano and began idly to play a music hall tune.

Anthony began. “My dear, you know how we both adore you.” He had sat beside me and pressed his knee against my skirts.

“I have noticed,” I replied, wondering how I would tell them that I will not be their own private furrow to plough unless the money they offered allowed me to fund Mama’s relocation to the country, and perhaps mollify them with an orgy with Pascal.

“Get to the point,” Mathew said impatiently, leaning on the piano to gaze at me in a most provocative manner.

“Oh, very well. Dolly. We have taken out a lease at a small apartment, three rooms, all new conveniences in a nice street in West London.”

I gasped. They’d gone beyond what I had expected and had anticipated my acceptance. “You’ve taken out a lease?”

“We have,” Mathew said, grinning, “And we’d like you to occupy it.”

“For your exclusive enjoyment,” I said, a tad irritated.

“Rather,” Mathew said. “That’s the point.”

Anthony patted my shoulder. “That’s the picture. Knew you’d catch on.”

I stopped playing. “I have to make something perfectly clear.”

Their expressions clouded in unison.

Anthony spoke first. “Is it this Frog Baudelaire, who has come into your life, and lost a finger in the process? Has he replaced us in your affections?”

“Of course not, and he is not the reason.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t expect you to forswear all others.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Then what can it be?”

I found myself recapitulating the reasons that I had given to Pascal. I would have been ashamed of myself as a hypocrite, a Lizzie Bennet preferring my own self-interest above that of my family, for accepting the twin’s arrangement would have left me living in better circumstances than Mrs. Q’s, but in all probability on a meagre budget, pin money, and not much else. This the twins confirmed. The allowance their father gave them was already stretched to the limit. Duty to my family won.

“You’re certain?”

I nodded. “I am sorry.”

“We shall have to surrender the lease,” Anthony said. “Our funds are strained as it is.

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