The Best Medicine

It shouldn't be this quiet with a storm this bad. Especially not with Yvon--he's not so silly any more--gone up to the Academy. He took Corinne and Serrano and Alessio. I wish he'd taken me, even though I know Ilóna and Rosalind need me to help them hold down the fort. I'm worried about my brother and sisters. And Endymion of course. Everyone is being so nice to me, too, and they don't understand that it just makes me even more nervous; I keep wondering what everyone knows that I don't. And Laurens is being unusually quiet, which means there is something brewing that isn't even the storm. Seth and Kiran were talking about it and they didn't even stop when I came into the break room.

Stephen's been talking to Viresh Ayyar and Mum is furious about it even though he swears he didn't turn over any records or tell him the names of any of the patients, and she believes him and so do I. I wish I knew what Septenary wanted, but I suppose everyone else does too. Maybe that's what Laurens is thinking about. Or maybe his leg is just bothering him. Either way, it's potential trouble.

In other news, I have absolutely no trouble believing that Seth and Vince are cousins, although it is rather unbelievable that either of them is related to Michel (seriously, it's easier to believe that Kiran and he are related). I could picture them talking about women, if I thought they ever talked. Seth is so much in love with his painfully elegant wife that it hurts just to look at him sometimes. And he would still sleep with me. I can't decide what's sadder; that he would, or that I would, if I really thought it would go no further than that. Particularly tonight, when I've got so much on my mind and this place doesn't even have the grace to be busy. And that is a thought I will not air to anyone, even Corinne.

Current Mood: worried

Well, that was awkward. But at least he bought me tea, and we had good sex, while it lasted? I will miss the sex. But I can’t stop thinking about the fact that he slept with Lady Leffoy. Who used to look after me when I was NINE. And he flirts with my baby brother’s fiancé. I don’t understand it. It’s like...he’s been alive so long that there doesn’t seem to be much difference to him, any more, between fifteen and eighteen and...fifty. Oh, James. I don’t think he’s that old, but really how much do I know about James? He was called something else when he was with Lady Leffoy, and of course I know all about under cover work, but...if he’s like Endymion’s friend Valeria...he might actually live to be that old, even if he isn’t that old now. That’s a really strange thought. I wonder if they’ll end up together, five hundred years from now, simply because there’s nobody else who would ever understand. They don’t seem like they’d suit.

I liked him. I still do. But maybe I should find an older man who’s not THAT much older. And not as stodgy as Derek. Or as secretly needy as Wilkes. Or as openly needy as Alessio. Or as fickle as Vince (well, there probably aren’t many people as fickle as Vince in this world, and I sincerely hope that Armorican girl Nat told me about is still alive, because Vince DESERVES her). Or as just plain unpleasant as Charles Lamercier. (Corinne was right about him.) Or as pickled as Howard Lovelace.

...the problem with liking older men, is that all of the really good ones are already taken, isn’t it? And the ones who are left have something WRONG with them, or already know who they really belong to and just haven’t signed on. I wish I liked boys my own age, except that I don’t.

Current Mood: sad

I can’t do this. James is sweet but he’s too old for me. He’s closer to my father’s age than mine. I like older men—especially if they’re not from around here—but by older I mean twenty-five to thirty. At thirty-five they start to panic about not having families yet (unless they’re Vince, who lets his daddy do it for him), and I thought I was ready to get married, but really, I’m not!

I’m eighteen. It was fine as long as it was just sex (it’s nice when they know what they’re doing) but James needs someone who can understand a little more of his life and I need someone who didn’t just narrowly miss seeing me in diapers by being in the wrong part of the world at the time!

(I could make a list of all the scrummy men I know who’d make terrible boyfriends, but it would only be depressing. Alessio Malaspina—adorable but feckless, and now the Silly Blond Thing’s problem-for-life; Rob Mitchell—completely inverted—and where are you anyway; Derek Greene—been there, done that; Charles Lamercier—no, it’s not because you’re black, it’s because you’re a jerk who expects rejection and knows how to get it; Vince Rosenthal—you’re cute, but you’re fickle, the danishes at Bletchley can have you; Howard Lovelace—brill and rich, but a different girl on his arm every night and he’s only sober on alternate Tuesdays...)

What I should be doing, right now, is making supper for Corinne when she gets home. I worked an early shift today and she’s had an awful time of it these last few days--that little boy she’s been working with took a terrible turn and her date last night ended up saving the city, for which we’re all grateful, I’m sure, but what a first date! (Even if she says that it wasn’t. Because he’s a patient.) And I think I will do that. I’m not Lavinia, but I can in fact cook.

I cannot believe Natty Pritchard is screwing Alessio’s jilted bride. I suppose someone should—it was a kindness—but Natty is not the person I’d choose for a jilted bride. Not that I’m so impressed with her either, but then I didn’t see her at her best. Of course Natty is not Martin, and Martin is dead, and Natty is probably nicer, now that Martin is dead…Corinne and I have absolutely got to make that chart.

Current Mood: cynical

I really need to get some sleep and I can’t, despite the double shift I worked last night. It’s going to be so strange Saturday and I wonder if it was right for me to have invited James when so much is expected of me. I really should be there tonight, but I don’t want to be. And I don’t know why. Mother says I need to gird my loins because the next five years of my life will be weddings and more weddings. Most of them mistakes—her words, not mine, and of course she’s not the least bit bitter. She thinks I don’t want to go to Melina’s party tonight at the Leffoys’ because I’m upset that I’m not getting married myself, but I’m not, any more. I’d say I can’t believe Melina is, but really, Marco and Melina have been married since we were children; the ceremony’s practically an afterthought. She had some adventures while they were apart but she came right back to him like a hawk comes to the glove—and I can’t help but wonder what she’d be like if she hadn’t been hooded and jessed before she was ten. Of course that’s hardly Marco’s fault.

( Part of it I suppose is that it isn’t just Melina’s party any more--it’s Valeria’s party, too. )

Current Mood: boggled

It feels so very, very odd to watch other people get ready for school when I’m not going myself. Maybe I should have gone home last night, but we got to working after Hadrian and Endymion went up to bed. Fiammetta is so excited! I wonder how Alanna is taking it. I’m really sad that I’m not getting to see that; hopefully Mother and Addie are. Normally Alanna would be staying with us, as Justin once did--but Cousin Mike won’t have his children around Lavinia.

I feel very sorry, actually, for my brother and Endymion (who haven’t come out of their room yet). I can’t imagine what it would be like to be either of them, going to school the morning after Endymion’s poor defenceless reputation was shredded like lettuce and served as a side dish next to Daddy’s and Lady Leffoy’s. Hadrian will say he doesn’t care, and even mostly mean it--but eventually he’ll draw blood if people are careless talking about it, and Charis ought to remember that Endymion is her mother’s fosterling, but she won’t, and she won’t protect them like I would have done, and like Addie would if she could.

Hadrian is so very proud, and proud of Endymion, and forgiving of every mad thing he’s done, because that is my brother’s nature.

Daddy and Lavinia have so much work to do. I told them I’d take the boys and Fia to the station, and I will. Lavinia can come, if she must, but I wish she wouldn’t. Besides, it’s my only hope of seeing Alanna and Justin and Addie today.

Current Mood: nostalgic

Well, everyone but me is going to school, and I am finally happy not to be going back--even if it does feel exceedingly strange not to be, especially since I’m not engaged, either.

I had dinner with Charles. He’s been trying to get me to go out with him for weeks. Even before Derek and I broke up. So it was easier to go than to keep putting him off, and he is very handsome. I even considered him as a short-term option for fun and games, briefly, but then I realised that I have never actually heard him say anything nice about anyone other than me, or the people I’m related to. Which means that eventually, after he got what he wanted, he’d treat me the same way he does everyone else. Not my thing.

That Zitek boy was awfully sweet, even if he was a cocky bastard with self-admittedly shitty impulse control. But he’s married (and Mother says his wife is gorgeous, even when rabid) and he’s fucking his brother. And he’s had Endymion.

We won’t even talk about Vincent. (Well, write. And who do I think I’m addressing anyway? ‘Dear Diary’…what am I, eleven?) Why are all the decent ones so bloody overcirculated? Oh, yes. Probably has something to do with this bloody WAR we keep having. Damn it.

Current Mood: frustrated

I don’t know what’s worse. Arianwen and Marlie and Corinne and Leah being so damn sympathetic, my mother being so damn pleased, Laurens being so damn superior (well, clearly not that, I’m used to it), or Wilkes being so awkward. Just because Wilkes “took” my virginity (it might be more accurate to say that I threw it at him until it stuck, except that being as how I had thrown it at Wilkes, my arm didn’t even get tired) and knows I’ve just been dumped does not mean he needs to be awkward about admitting to Mum that he knows perfectly well that his nephew has eloped with Hadrian!

(I asked Arianwen if she was upset and she laughed and told me that Hadrian was absolutely apologetic and even more absolutely impotent with her. Which is more than I wanted to know about my brother, but my fault for asking.)

Of course Charles Lamercier is being equally infuriating about being right. Mustn’t leave that one out, because he’s a Yank too and he went to school with Derek and he told me Derek was a tosser when I started seeing him. But what was I supposed to do, go out with the SBT? (Among the things I am trying to wash out of my brain tonight, along with Hadrian’s malfunctioning penis, is something Corinne told me about the SBT last night when we had all had altogether too much to drink after leaving my mother’s house. Which apparently I don’t think of as my house any more, even though I technically still live here. On the other hand, if I don’t wash it out of my brain, I could always tell Arianwen. Except that I really don’t want to hear that she already knows. From experience.

I wonder if Mum missed any of Daddy’s port or brandy when she cleaned out his things. Surely she didn’t know all of his hiding places. Failing that, Hadrian and his sweetheart said they left me something in his old room, but I’m really not in the mood for absinthe.

Current Mood: irritated

There’s nothing quite so much fun as breakfast with Mother and Luna and Addie and Marlie. Speaking from a purely sarcastic perspective, of course. Arianwen is still at Goulston’s place. Not that I blame her. And not that I think she’s really staying with Goulston.

I’m going to speak to Corinne later today. Leah Lindsey is moving out of the flat she’s been sharing with Corinne since they left school and I’m going to see if I can take her old rooms after the twins go off to school. Mother and Luna need some time to themselves to figure out what they’re actually doing (above and beyond the obvious) and I didn’t have the heart to tell either Addie or Mother that I’d broken it off with Derek Greene--not this morning, anyway.

Mother seems to be getting over Daddy and Lavinia. At least she didn’t react to seeing them out and about in the papers. She wasn’t very happy about Hadrian though. And I’m so used to thinking of Endymion as an owlish waif, with big round spectacles and messy hair, that I seem to have managed not to notice him growing up to be beautiful, with a smile you could die for. I suppose that’s what comes of having known him since before we went to school—I didn’t really pay attention to the changes over time.

I didn’t think Derek would dump me over his bloody inheritance, at least not without trying a bit to see if they really meant it; I didn’t see Mother and Luna coming; and I didn’t think Hadrian and Endymion would get back together this quickly, either. I don’t know why I think I know anything at all about people these days.

Current Mood: depressed

Damn him anyway. He’s just a bloody stupid foolish man. And he doesn’t trust me. I don’t care what his family wants to do. Nobody asked them. If he trusted me, he wouldn’t want that contract. I am not going to sign it. If he wants to go back to the Lost Colonies and marry Agatha bloody D’Ascalle, I don’t bloody care!

Luna is here. I saw his hat on the coat tree. Luna is here and Addie has gone to bed and Arianwen is staying with Goulston again (except really the SBT, I am sure) and I don’t know where Marlie is and I don’t suppose I care to know, either. Daddy has Lavinia, Mum has Luna, Hadrian has Endymion and I’m not ever getting married. I wish I were more interested in girls—they make more sense. Maybe I’ll just have a child of my own when I want one, like Lavinia did. All my very own. Since Hadrian probably won’t pass on the family name, I might as well. If I don’t I’ll probably grow up to be a strange old hag with a pink cottage and 93 cats!

I’m going to have a nice long bath and I’m going to actually fill the tub. He can have his stupid ring back, too.

Current Mood: heartbroken!!!!

Oh, shite. I suppose Mum figured him out after all. It was bound to happen eventually. Do I stay in here and let them go on thinking I'm asleep? What am I going to say to her after he leaves? When are Addie and Hadrian supposed to be home? Did Marlie and Arianwen go with them? Oh Jesus Holy God and fuck. All we need now is a lightning rain.

Current Mood: awake

I really, really, really need to talk to Daddy. Even if I have to make an appointment through Miss Davies. Which I am not doing, because he is Daddy, and I probably know where he is. That is, if I don’t end up on charges because I’ve hexed Addie and Hadrian into the twenty-first century. I keep forgetting Arianwen is only sixteen. (I probably shouldn’t take her to pubs.) She and Marlie don’t act like Addie, and I’d lay the blame on their being in practical colleges (St Hilda’s is almost as reasonable as Avalon) but Hadrian is in Avalon and he’s just as idiotic as Addie is sometimes.

I finally told the Silly Blond Thing that I was engaged, because now that Mum knows, there’s no point in hiding it. For ten shillings I might have told him that I slept with Jameson Wilkes when I was sixteen years, eleven months, twenty-nine days, and twenty-two hours old. But nobody offered me ten shillings, so I didn’t. Besides, I’d have had to explain why I wasn’t in school at the time, like I was supposed to be. And Laurens would kill me, and Daddy would kill Wilkes, and that would be bad, because Laurens and Daddy don’t like each other anyway, and the Hell-Fire Club is angry enough with my daddy already.

Anyhow, the SBT knows all anyway. Or rather Arianwen told him everything. Because she does. I shouldn’t be surprised if he knows about Wilkes as well, but I won’t have Wilkes blamed for it. I didn’t lose my virginity, after all; most people know exactly where they left theirs and why, and I’m no exception.

Current Mood: tired