More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
His only shortcoming was a lamentable lack of grey matter, which he took in stride, cheerfully proclaiming that while he might not have two brain cells to rub together, he was dim enough that he didn't notice their lack.
“It can be difficult,” said Jacobi softly, “to realise that a fond memory has been remembered differently by other parties."
"Alphonse." Alphonse startled from his reverie, blinking at Jacobi with what he was sure was an amazed expression. He had never heard his name in Jacobi's mouth before, not in all their years together, and it warmed him to his core, making him go all bubbly inside, like a bottle of champagne about to burst. Jacobi looked back at him, faint concern etching the tiniest groove in between his eyebrows. Alphonse wanted to press the pad of his thumb to the mark to erase it, like smudging away an ink blot.
When he looked up, Jacobi was watching him with an expression of awful fondness, a smile curling in the corners of his mouth like a secret just between the two of them.
"Oh, yes! I've only recently learned that was an option, but apparently yes, I do. Jacobi was the one who told me so, in fact. But what else has he got to do with this?" She stared at him. He blinked back at her. "Well, perhaps we'll revisit this conversation at a future date," she finally said.
She reached over to squeeze his hand, and for the first time, Alphonse didn't feel a flare of panic in response, but rather the excitement of having found a co-conspirator.
"Don't fret, Alphonse. You're not attracted to me. It's just the suit." "Oh, thank god. I was worried I was going to make things terribly awkward."
"Algeria," Aaliyah said. "Is that in the Middle East? A very dry, sandy place, I imagine. I expect you're grateful to be able to settle down somewhere more civilised, eh?" Alphonse didn't have the strongest grasp of geography and might not be able to pinpoint Algeria on a map, but wherever it was, it seemed in bad taste to call anyone's homeland uncivilised. But before he could open his mouth to call Featherstrop out on such a breach of manners, Aaliyah beat him to it, as was right. "It's in North Africa. And as a matter of fact, I prefer the Maghreb to England, Mr. Featherstrop. I'd prefer it
...more
"I know it's not on to judge anyone for their school crushes, but really, Alphonse? You're still mooning over that one?" "I know," he said miserably, trudging towards the stable.
Aaliyah made a frustrated growl and took him roughly by the arm, startling him into looking up. "And how do you figure Jacobi fits into that, then? Is he vapid and self-absorbed?" "What? Of course not! He's the epitome of the human race, as far as I'm concerned. The absolute pinnacle." "And if you'd met him when you were back in school, before you ever met Featherstrop?" she pressed. "What would a schoolboy need with a valet?" Alphonse asked, baffled. Aaliyah made a sound of disarticulate rage, rather like a smothered groan, and released him.
"Do you really not know why he stays?" He opened his mouth. Nothing came out, so he shut it again. "Oh, for—" She shook her head. "Alphonse. Alphonse." "What?" "Thank god you're pretty." "People often tell me that."
"I say," he said softly. "Aaliyah. Do you think I'm in love with Jacobi?" "I think there's a distinct possibility, yes."
"Like a sack of flour it is," he said, with as much dignity as he could muster.
"I'm dying, you see," Alphonse blurted, "so it seems a waste of good food." Aaliyah delicately covered her mouth with one hand. Jacobi lifted one eyebrow, and the sardonic judgement was as evident as if he had voiced it aloud. "Dying, sir." "Yes. I've broken every bone in my body, and I shall have to be entombed in this very chaise. I'm never to move again." "I don't think that's true, sir." "Tell him, Aaliyah! Aren't I dying?" "He does seem considerably moribund. Might I suggest wrapping him up in a comfortable shroud and taking him home, where he might pass in peace?" "Ma'am," Jacobi said,
...more
"No need to bother with the nursing or the shroud, thank you, Jacobi, for I feel like I've already died. I'm in shambles. A mere corpse."
That sounds awfully refreshing. Just what I need in my current state." "Your state of shambles, sir?" "Yes, precisely."
lifting Alphonse into a much more comfortable bridal carry, straightening effortlessly like Alphonse didn't weigh a thing. "You're awfully strong, what?" Alphonse said admiringly, patting Jacobi's chest. To the side, Aaliyah covered her mouth like she was trying to hold back a laugh.
This succeeded only in unbalancing them both, Jacobi's grip slipping and prompting him to take hold of Alphonse quite firmly by the waist, hoisting him back up in a terribly undignified manner, like a cat being hauled up in the overenthusiastic embrace of a tot. Though less prone to clawing in such a circumstance, Alphonse still let out a yowl at being manhandled in such a way, and gave fresh life to his struggles, squirming around in an attempt to escape.
I haven't laughed this hard in so long omfg
then, mortified, went limp and noodled straight down out of Jacobi's arms to puddle onto the floor.
Absolutely cackling
"Toodles," he said sadly,
Featherstrop, old thing, chap: I only wanted to tell you that I deserved better than you, actually, and if I weren't such a sap, I'd have seen it years earlier! I just hope you treat your girl better than you treated mff—" Jacobi neatly placed one hand over Alphonse's mouth.
"Jacobi," he began. "Sir," Jacobi said softly. "Please don't."
Like Alphonse had carved his still-beating heart out of his chest, offering it to his valet with both hands like a child offering his nanny an unwanted garden toad.
"Alphonse," Aaliyah said, her voice perfectly pleasant, "if you don't get this resolved, I'm going to throw you in the Thames. I mean this with love, but you are absolutely ridiculous, and I just haven't got the patience for it.
I forget sometimes the way in which you move through the world. You must forgive me." "What way is that?" Jacobi dropped his hand, though the pained expression had not entirely left his face. "Obliviously, sir."
"These feelings. Do you mean of a sexual nature, sir?" Mortified, Alphonse meeped, and flushed so hot he thought he might pass out.
It's just that when people ask about my home, expecting me to drop to my knees in gratitude at being allowed to live in a place as wonderfully perfect as England— Well, I can't stand the presumption. Someone has to stick up for the Barbary Coast, and it might as well be me." She paused. "Fuck the French, though." "And the British," Jasmine added serenely, clinking her glass against Aaliyah's.
"I'm saying it now, right to your face, when I'm not drunk or drugged or dreaming, so you'll know that I mean it. I love you, Jacobi, and probably have done from the day I met you. It's just that my brain takes so long to catch up to my feelings. You know I'm hopeless at puzzling things out."
"If I'm going to come stumbling into your dreams again, we might as well be in the same room when it happens. It's not like we can get more intimate than dream-sharing, what?" "If dream-sharing is the most intimate activity you can imagine," Jacobi said in a low voice that sent thrills through Alphonse's core, "then clearly I must broaden your horizons."
Alphonse took a moment to ponder the concept of dreamwalking cats. It must mean that cats had their own kind of magic, which he didn't find as surprising as he should have. If any animal were inclined to magic, he would have thought cats to be the most likely, after all.
we are very much in love, and we couldn't be happier." And it was true. They just weren't in love with each other.
