Chapter 33

APRIL 2ND

G riffin felt the day was going really well. It was Saturday. He did not need to make an appearance in his office, though he'd had plenty to work on at home, checking through more files for any references to what had happened in 1902 to complicate the jet now. They'd scheduled the proper testing for Monday, so at least they should have a bit more information soon.

He hadn't seen Annice on Friday - she had indeed been exhausted from a full day of learning. But she'd gone back for the morning and early afternoon on Saturday, undaunted. From Niobe's brief comments in Griffin's journal, they were getting on well. Annice was picking up a whole set of related skills promptly, as well as being helpful with the cleaning. Griffin got ready for the theatre, smiling every so often, because that was the kind of arrangement that made him happiest, when everyone got something good for them.

Annice was waiting just inside the door when Griffin made it to the inn and she came out immediately. He'd changed into one of his more personal sorts of suits, this one a charcoal grey with a sapphire blue pocket square and bow tie, and a hat to match. Annice came out wearing a blouse and skirt, but she'd done her hair up. Someone had found her a bit of an ornament for it - a fresh flower, charmed to stay that way, if he read the magic correctly. He beamed at her. "You look lovely. Supper, and then the play, yes?"

"You know somewhere, I gather." She was teasing as she said it, and he did. He'd made arrangements with one of the more relaxed restaurants he liked. The family had known his for a generation now. The current owner was someone he'd played with as a boy and his wife was the head chef. Annice was a bit nervous as they settled at their table, but within five minutes, she was relaxing. The food was fantastic, as always. Annice had been willing to try the lamb stew, as one of the local specialities.

Then it was along to the theatre. "This is the New Ricardian, like I mentioned." Griffin nodded at the usher who got the door, and added, "We're in box four. I know the way up."

"As you say, sir." Two minutes later - the lift was ready for them - they were in the box at stage right, not so much in the corner that they couldn't see everything.

Annice leaned forward on the railing, looking around. "Will I understand the play, then? And what should I pay attention to?"

Griffin laughed. "You know your stories, I'm sure? The founding of Albion. They sometimes do a panto version, but the play is much more dramatic. There will be some illusion work lighting things up, shapes in the forest, that sort of thing. And they do quite a lot with a small orchestra and some deftly applied charms." There was a cough behind him, and Griffin twisted. "Ah, Owen. This is my friend, Annice Matthewman. Annice, this is Owen Hubbard, who works backstage, keeping things running smoothly. Anything she ought to look out for? And how's Clara doing? And the little ones?"

"Sir." Owen waved a hand. "She's very well. You ought to go round sometime. She'd love to see you. Same hours, still, there Tuesday to Friday. And our children keep growing out of their shoes, but that's easy enough for me to solve." He made a little half-bow to Annice. "You might see a glimmer from the next box over. We have a theatre ghost, and she rather likes this play, we think. Nothing to worry about, she just leaves a bit of silk flower around when she's happy. Beyond that, well, now. Would you rather know what's coming, or maybe be a little surprised?"

Annice tilted her head. "Today? I'd rather know what's coming. Been a bit of a whirlwind week." Owen took her through the outline of the play in brief. Griffin thought he read Annice's reactions well, letting her know where the scarier parts were, and also where the particularly good acting was likely to come out. Annice asked a few questions, then, about how Owen knew Griffin.

"Oh, a case. A while back now, six years now. He was kind to my wife, when she was nervous about things. We like making sure he can come see a play." Then there was a chime, and Owen's chin went up. "That's my cue to get backstage. Enjoy, and we'll send someone to check on what you want in the interval."

"The other reason for the box," Griffin said. "They do the kindness of making sure we don't have to push and shove at the bar to get a drink or an ice or whatever. And we can eat it here. We are deemed to be unlikely to drip the ice on the seats." It made Annice giggle, as he'd hoped, and they had just a few more minutes to talk about the coming play before the lights dimmed.

The play was everything he'd hoped. Annice fell into the story of it almost immediately. Three scenes in, he felt her take his hand, squeezing it harder when the tension picked up. The interval brought them ices, to be enjoyed in small cups with delicate spoons. That was a treat that Annice obviously hadn't enjoyed often.

"Ices on the beach, of course," she said. "When times were good. But this is different, sitting here like this. What did you think of the woman playing Innogen?" That topic kept them going until the lights dimmed again, since Griffin had seen her in a number of plays now, and quite enjoyed the range of her skill.

When the play finished, they waited a bit for the crowds to thin out. Griffin cleared his throat, a little unsure how she'd take this. "Come back to my place? I thought we might find somewhere comfortable to be for a bit. Together?"

Annice raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "Details to be sorted out when we get there. Certainly." She walked beside him as they left, then twined their way through the streets. It was late enough that the lamplight cast a glow on the stone, especially the redder sandstone that made up a fair number of the buildings.

Griffin let them both in by the door, then stopped there. Annice turned, looking at him, tilting her head. "You're uncertain, all at once. I'm fairly sure of that."

"You're correct." Griffin let out a breath. "I'd rather the bed, if you don't mind. Or me changing into a dressing gown and all. I'm all right for the moment, but it's the sort of night where I might end up exhausted all of a sudden."

"And that's easier if you're already set for bed." Annice sucked in a breath, chewing on her lip. "Go ahead. Can I wash upstairs?"

"Splendid idea. There should be towels there. If not, there's a linen cupboard, erm, to the right of the bathing room. And soap. Five or ten minutes? I'll leave the bedroom door open." She nodded and disappeared toward the kitchen and its stairs. Griffin parked the chair in the bedroom. His hands were shaking a little as he settled onto the stool he kept by the sink in the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up. Annice gave him more than enough space.

By the time she reappeared, he was in his pyjamas, with a dressing gown firmly over them as a layer. It was not exactly proper, but he was clothed in as many layers as he had been at the theatre, more or less. He'd tried to figure out how best to position himself, ending up more on the left side of the bed, further from the door, with the pillows fluffed.

She'd loosened the neck of her blouse, undoing a couple of buttons. It was enough to expose a V of pale skin, and she'd let her hair down, so it tumbled down her back in a soft coil. "You look a picture." It came out of him breathy and suddenly needy. "You thought about that." The idea that she had, that she wasn't just choosing to stay, but she was choosing how she let herself be seen, that took his words away. Instead of saying more about that, he patted the bed next to him. He'd tucked the chair well out of the way on that side. She sat first, then toed off her shoes beside the bed, bending to nudge them to one side, before she twisted to look at him.

"I'm being very brave." She took a breath, and then flung herself at it, rather like someone might dive off a pier into the ocean water. Her hand came up to cup his cheek. "You've been so kind. No— let me talk." He'd opened his mouth, and her finger tapped it. "Not just kind. You paid attention to all sorts of things. I only noticed because I was so nervous. The inn, the basket of treats."

She took a breath, but it was the short breath before rushing on. "How you found someone for me to talk to, and Niobe is doing at least half the work of convincing me to stay for you. And it hasn't worked yet, not all the way, but there's a good chance it will. Then tonight, it was new, and I've never been to a proper magical theatre. And not so much with going out to eat somewhere other than a pub or fish and chips. And it was all splendid. You made it easy to enjoy it. That there wasn't something that would trip me up." Then she swallowed. "Um. Now you can say things. If you want?"

He did want. Griffin took a moment to choose his words. "I think a lot about tripping these days. Physical and otherwise. The places we snag on an assumption." He turned to look at her square on. "Niobe's being persuasive, then?"

"She doesn't make me feel stupid. She explains things. There's so much I don't know? But she says it like it's ordinary to know some things, and not others. And like she knows I'm a person who wants to learn. Who can learn. You do the same thing. How do you do that? When it's complicated magic, not, I don't know, something any Tom, Dick, and Harry could learn with a bit of practice?" Then she ducked her chin. "What would it look like if I stayed? Not saying I'm deciding yet."

"If things keep going well with Niobe, she'd consider taking you on as an apprentice. Most of her pieces these days are talismans, not just decorative, but she knows all the gem cutting, too. You'd learn to make them, she'd teach you that. She - or I - would maybe find some other people to learn from, how to do the jewellery parts you don't know. Setting different kinds of stones, I know there are multiple techniques."

She snorted, but she leaned forward to kiss his cheek, so that was all right. Griffin let out a breath. "And I hope you and I would find what works for us. I work an awful lot, I get focused on that. But you'd be welcome to stay here - here, this bed, or upstairs. I'd make sure to take a break for dinner. We could refit one room upstairs as a workroom, if you wanted."

"You barely know me." Annice had gone very quiet now, barely whispering.

"True. But the way you kissed me? I think I want to know more. Learn more. Just like you." Griffin rode the line of that arrow of truth, as far as he could bear. Then he closed his eyes, just waiting.

She didn't move much, but he heard her voice, nearly in his ear. "I kissed you because you care. People grieving. That they have the space. People didn't give me that space, they gave me the custom, and the things you say out of politeness, and it wasn't enough. You? You understand that."

"I'm not perfect." Now he could look at her, blinking to get his eyes to focus. "Don't think I am. I get frustrated when my legs won't do what I want. When my body betrays me. Briefly, these days, mostly. And I'm stubborn, and I won't leave Trellech, and I'm aiming at something that will tie me here, in new ways. Still hoping I can have it, despite everything."

Her fingers touched his cheek. "I don't know how I feel about all of that. But I'm not running away from it, all right? Show me what it's really like. What the stone is, under all that, the ways it comes alive in the carving." She sucked in a breath. "Let's see if I make it far enough to see your mother wearing the rose I made."

Now it was Griffin's turn to suck in a breath, and that was such a particular marker of what they might become, a potent one. "Oh, yes. Though I think there might be quite a few steps before that. We could get started exploring those."

"No need to rush. But mm, yes. You suggested your bed. What did you have in mind?" Annice's voice had gone breathy now, and when he shifted his hand to touch her back, he could feel how she was breathing shallowly.

"Here, stretch out. Kissing. Touching a little. Nothing you don't want. And remember you can outrun me, easily, if you decide to." Griffin held his breath until she started rearranging herself, stretching out on her side, facing him. It made it easy to let his hand rest on her back, fingers spread, in hopes of touching other places in a little. Then he was shifting himself, to match her, then to kiss her. It was easier like this, when he didn't have to worry about balancing on the sofa. She was just as responsive now.

They were breathless with it, for a long time. When they had to pause, to rest and recover a little, he murmured in her ear. "You could stay the night if you wanted. They won't mind at the inn."

"Did you think of that, too?" She was blinking at him - he'd dimmed the lights. When he nodded, she laughed, then nuzzled at his shirt. "Mmm. It's very comfortable here. With you. And the bed."

"No reason to move, then." Griffin might have hoped for a bit more of a romp. But it had been a long day for her - and he suspected she'd been using her magic more than she'd realised. After a few more nuzzling kisses, she dropped off to sleep, nestled against his shoulder. He stayed awake for a good long time, until after the faint ring of the midnight bells from the Ministry bell tower. It felt good to lie there just listening to her breathe and feel the way she trusted him.