Chapter 10 #3
Miss Eugenia bit her lip in a valiant attempt to keep it from quivering.
Of all the Silly Young Things for whom Luna had played scryer, Miss Eugenia might be both the youngest and the silliest. But she deserved a bright future as much as the rest of them.
A future which did not see her tied to a fortune-hunter, be he titled or otherwise.
Luna silently held out her hand.
“Fine!” Miss Eugenia huffed a little sigh and drained the last of her tea before shoving both cup and saucer into Luna’s grasp. “It won’t make a difference, though.”
Luna ignored this and set to work. She swirled the contents of the cup clockwise thrice and counter twice, just as she was taught by the aunties so long ago. Then she peered inside.
Immediately, a vision began to manifest, springing to life before her Sight. Now that was an improvement! No double-image, layered on top of each other. Just a single picture, unfurling like a rose, but . . . very strange.
Luna frowned.
She saw Miss Eugenia, but not in any sort of circumstance wherein one might expect to see Miss Eugenia.
She appeared to be climbing some old, sand-blasted ruins in a sun-drenched land, wearing a pith helmet, a billowing safari shirt, and khaki jodhpurs.
Someone followed close on her footsteps, but though Luna gazed closely over the rim of the cup, she could not discern who it was, only that he did not resemble either Tom Doorhandler or the duke.
Whoever he might be, he slipped behind Miss Eugenia and took her hand, and when she turned to look at him, the smile that broke across her face transformed her into someone almost pretty.
“Miss Eugenia,” Luna asked, looking up from the cup, “where were you and the duke planning to go on your honeymoon?”
“Kosmaoca. To see the cairns,” Miss Eugenia answered without much interest and shrugged. “The duke likes to look at dried up old things behind glass. Go figure. But the ancient Kosmaocian queen’s jewels are said to be quite the thing, so why not?”
Luna pressed her lips. Then: “I think you should go. But . . . not with the duke.”
Eugenia blinked at her in surprise. “With Tom?”
“Oh, no! No, if I’m reading your future correctly, you must travel to Kosmaoca, but you must go alone.”
The little bride drew herself up primly. “A lady cannot venture into Foreign Parts unchaperoned. Mother would never stand for it.”
Luna narrowed her eyes. “Miss Eugenia, to whom did your godfather leave his fortune?”
Miss Eugenia blinked. “To me, of course.”
“And you are of age to claim it in its entirety, are you not?”
“I am, but—”
“So, it is yours to do with as you will?”
Eugenia pouted. “Mother says I’m too much of a flibbertigibbet and require supervision and management.”
“But there is no law stating that a flibbertigibbet may not spend her own money as she wishes,” Luna pressed.
“Or choose her own companions with whom she travels.” Leaning forward, she took hold of Eugenia’s hand and squeezed.
“I see great adventures ahead of you, Miss Lambert. But you’ve got to reach out and grasp them!
Before it’s too late.” She looked down into the teacup again, but the vision had already faded.
It hadn’t been a particularly strong vision to begin with; more of a hope than a certainty.
Eugenia sighed and wiped the back of a lacey glove across her nose.
She looked very childlike in that moment, like a little girl dressed up for pretend rather than a real bride.
But even as her glove fell away from her face once more, a sudden gleam lit in her eyes.
“Thank you, Miss Witch,” she said. “I think I know what I must do.”
Before Luna could question her, Eugenia scrambled to her feet and fluffed out her already supremely fluffy gown.
The sleeves alone looked as though they were ready to spread and take flight.
Luna was obliged to rise as well and back out of the closet, then it took a little doing to get Miss Eugenia free of the narrow doorway.
More than one disastrous-sounding rip rent the air, but the dress was so massive, one couldn’t really see where the damage was done.
“Sutton,” Eugenia said, turning to her maid, who waited in the passage, bouquet in hand. “Which way to the nave?”
Sutton nodded.
“Oh, but if you go that way, you’ll be sure to run into Tom Doorhandler,” Luna warned.
Miss Eugenia set her chin, her mousy face oddly determined. “Very well. Take me to the back exit, Sutton,” she said. “We’ll make our way around outside and come in through the front entrance.”
Luna’s brow knotted. “The limousine is waiting,” she said. “It could carry you away from all this, Miss Lambert, and—”
“No, no,” Eugenia declared, holding up one gloved palm. “Everyone’s here for a wedding, and a wedding I shall give them. Thank you ever so much for your concern, Miss Witch. I will bid you good day now.”
So saying, she gathered up armfuls of skirts and flounced off, trailing after Sutton through the twisting back passages of the cathedral and leaving Luna to watch after her, a worried line knotted in her brow.