Lucy is tearing off pieces of pastry over breakfast at the long table; beaming them at different parts of his shoulders and chest to get his attention so she can mouth the word, ‘again?!’ while Susan’s back is turned.
edmund prides himself on his impeccable perspicacity. he knows exactly what sort of game fair little @sweetbitterbitten is playing -- she is the very picture of pompous conviction. and in her bright green eyes, there is already a shocking confession: “i know! i know what you did last night!” (…) he needn't lift his head from his breakfast plate to imagine the look on her face.
except his heart is an open book before those he loves -- and a traitorous bastard at that -- coaxing one corner of his mouth upward. it must be the cherry jam, he decides. who wouldn't be a little charmed by a freshly baked slice of bread slathered with saccharine fruit preserve? ah, yes-yes, that would explain it!
his voice fails him, though a single narrow-eyed glance in her direction does the job: “behave.”
