The Pirate & The Porcelain Doll (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 14

Waverly heard the groan from underneath the pillow. She eased herself out of the small space Nicole had allowed her in the bed, stretching, her neck muscles stiff from the awkward position she had been forced to sleep in most of the night. "Shall I ask cook if she has anything for that sore head of yours?"

"Please. Also, could you possibly turn off the sun for a few hours."

Waverly smiled at the sight of Nicole sprawled in bed in her undergarments, bare arms the only visible skin, tempted to rush back to the bed and snuggle next to her, as she had done as a child. "Perhaps milk and biscuits. Mama can feed papa."

"Ha ha. Too funny. Ouch. Less of your cheek young lady."

Waverly grabbed her dressing gown from the back of a chair, pulling the thick curtains across the window, shutting out most of the light. She returned with a tray holding a large jug of water and a glass of cook's hangover cure, the ingredients of which were a secret but apparently their combination created a miracle remedy for Nicole's father and brothers when they over-indulged. "Cook suggests you have a salt bath," Waverly announced, a little too loudly, as she placed the tray on the dressing table.

"Shush," Nicole replied. "You're shouting."

"Here. Take this. Cook says it really does work."

Nicole appeared from under the pillow, Waverly grinning at the sight of her Red. Hair dishevelled, drooping eyelids, dry lips. Even with such an appearance she still looked beautiful. She accepted the glass of whatever had been concocted, sniffing it, pretending to throw up, taking a sip. "Good God, she's trying to kill me. I will die of whatever is in this before a hangover takes me off this mortal coil."

"You've been around Jinny too long," Waverly replied. "Speaking of which?"

"I'm far too ill to be questioned. And, it's far too early for any interrogation. What does cook put in this?"

"Best you not know. I saw a few of the ingredients. And, when were you going to tell me about Charles?"

"I'm dying right before your very eyes and all you want to know is who I'm with."

"Nicole Haught, give me a straight answer," Waverly demanded, trying to keep a straight face.

"Why straight, when crooked is more fun."

"Fine. Then don't. I don't care who you are with, or aren't with. Or, might be with. It is none of my concern."

Nicole handed an empty glass back, shuddering. "I'm now completely convinced cook hates me."

"I shall leave you if all you're going to do is torment me by not answering my questions."

Nicole pretended to faint on the bed, bringing her hand up to her forehead. "She's leaving me. Oh, woe is me. I am bereft."

"I hate you."

"You don't. You adore me. Which is understandable. I am utterly adorable."

Waverly huffed. "You're infuriating. And no, I do not adore you."

"You do."

"Do not."

Waverly closed the door to the nursery knowing she did.

Nicole surfaced shortly after lunch, the Epsom salt bath restoring her to some semblance of normal functioning. Waverly found her on the terrace, wrapped in a woollen coat, about to light a cigarette, her breath visible, lost in thought. Nicole turned her head as she approached, holding the cigarette over the slim silver case in her other hand, deciding not to smoke it. Waverly slumped in a chair opposite, her eyes on Nicole's face wondering what was going on inside her head.