Chapter 32

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CYMBELINE

The tray in my hands bumps into the door frame when I re-enter Ada's and my room. If she isn't already up, the noise of clattering dishes must at last have woken her. Luckily, she is, sitting up between the pillows, a book resting on her knees. Her loose braid falls over her shoulder. She doesn't look up from the page when she hears me entering.

"Morning, dearest" Ada says, shuts the book and turns away to lay it on the night table. "I thought you were gone to wash yourself, but where have you - Oh!"

When she sees the tray with bread and tea and fresh fried eggs, she blushes. "Is that for me?"

"No, I was going to give it to the horses" I answer sarcastically and put it down next to her. "Of course it's for you."

Ada rolls her eyes and leans over to kiss me on the cheek. "Well, bless you, I was already getting hungry."

"That's exactly what I thought."

When Ada has already eliminated half her eggs - complaining about how much better I am at cooking and wondering how I didn't burn the house down while doing that - she suddenly begins to giggle.

"You know" she says and swallows the last bit, "I guess you don't know that because it is one of those silly upper class things, but - uhm - actually only married women have breakfast in bed."

I almost spill tea over the sheets when I jerk. "What, every day?!"

She nods and takes up the toast with jam. "Surely! My mother never comes down for breakfast, only us poor unmarried daughters and Father do. You cannot imagine how smug my sister Bridget was when she got married and could stay in bed in the morning. It's perhaps the best about being the wife of a tin manufacturer from Birmingham" she adds.

I shake my head and steal a biscuit from her. "You really have some odd traditions, you aristocrats."

"Oh, come on, Cymbeline. You'd make a splendid husband" she says, what I answer with eye-rolling.

"What, do you not agree?"

"There's just a little much marriage going on in this house right now" I say, thinking about how the two lovebirds Isaac and Atticus must be frolicking just two doors away. " If we are not careful, they will build a chapel here."

"Why that?"

So I explain to her what Atticus told me in the kitchen. When I mention his flustered retelling of his proposal, Ada almost squeals with excitement.
And of course she the one to come up with a plan to keep Isaac out of the whole affair, what else did I expect?

***

Isaac is a little confused. "But are we really out of so much?" he asks, hands on his hips, while Atticus and I are already getting our jackets. We just had a second, smaller breakfast together. Or tried to, because Atticus rather melodramatically mentioned that we are almost out of, well, everything. That we were nevertheless able to prepare lavish breakfasts in bed for him and Ada just went over Isaac's head when Ada and I vehemently agreed to Atticus statement.

"Sure" I answer with absolute earnestness. "The pantry is almost empty, if you don't want to starve, you should let us go."

In truth, I and Ada hid most items from the pantry in the cellar while Atticus was keeping Isaac in their room with - whatever. Only the way Isaac has cautiously buttoned his shirt up to the collar gives me at least a hint of how he was distracted. The main point is: Even if Isaac would bother to check our inventories now, he wouldn't be able to contradict us.

"Shall I come with you?" Isaac asks and reaches out towards his over-coat. "I could -"

"No!" all three of us exclaim simultaneously. That does only confuse Isaac even more. I give Ada a help-seeking look. She nods almost unnoticeable and takes up her cue.

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