𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 🍞PEAKY BLINDERS 🥖

Chapter Fifty

Lizzie Stark has entered the chat.

CHAPTER FIFTY

"He's nice."

Lizzie Stark turned to better face the youngest Shelby. "He's what?"

Her aunt's face fell. "Kizzie, you did not speak to him."

Kizzie nudged the extra chair closer to the two women. They sat on the opposite side, down the way next to members of Grace's family (the non-soldier ones). "I did. Earlier in the sitting room. We talked about art."

Lizzie had known the girl for years. Well enough to know she had a knack for reading a room better than most. Maybe the man wasn't so bad...but she knew Polly would never give him the chance. Kizzie's confession also begged the question... How did Kizzie get away with speaking to a Russian man in a crowded room? And today of all days!

Lizzie heard the rumors circulating between Tommy and Kizzie, and knew better than to press Polly or anyone else. Maybe the rumors were right.

Maybe Thomas Shelby was losing his grip on his favorite girl.

"Oh fuck me," Polly said, "he's coming over."

"C'mon, Kizzie," Lizzie stood with a hand on Kizzie's shoulder. "Let's give them some privacy."

"Okay."

"Where you going with my niece? Dinner's about to start."

Lizzie smiled. "It's alright, Pol. We've been waiting this long now. What will a few more minutes hurt? Need to go find the Best Man anyhow... Kizzie is a magnet for finding her brothers."

A surge of recklessness rippled through Kizzie. She wanted to sneak off.

Even with her aunt's hard eyes following them out the room.

☻

"How're you holding up, Kizzie?"

Kizzie and Lizzie walked through the darkened hall. This side of the manor was reserved mostly for staff and business things. Kizzie let Lizzie lead them, unsure of their final destination. "I am standing."

"Standing or hunchin' over? You look tired."

"I guess so."

"Getting away from here might do you some good. Get some of that fresh, polluted Birmingham air again, yeah? When's the last time you've been down?"

Years ago, it felt like. There wasn't a reason to go down there anymore... In Tommy's eyes, at least. "I don't know. Tommy's got the car."

"Well, you're eighteen now," Lizzie reminded. "And Tommy is married. He's busy. Means you can sneak away when you got to."

"I can't drive."

"Your friend can." She stopped them. "I feel it, Kizzie, you have a yearning for something outside of here. This is a prison as much as it is a home. I won't pry. But you want something." She smiled. "Or someone."

"Oi!"

Michael's yell startled both girls.

"What you doing down here, Lizzie?"

She turned to fully face him. Lizzie was the tallest woman Kizzie ever knew; she only came up just below her shoulders. Which also meant Lizzie was taller than Tommy. Quite strange, to see a woman taller than a man. But Lizzie always wore her height with a sense of pride. Even in her colors.

Michael lifted his head to look her in the eye, blue eyes stoic and hard. "There's rules, Lizzie. Especially today." He looked at his cousin, doe-eyed and gently swaying side-to-side in her green dress. "Kizzie must stay in the main house tonight."

"We went for a walk," Lizzie told him. There was a bite in her voice, a slight tremble like she wanted to scream. "You and her brothers show up wherever she is and I need to speak with you."

"Lizzie—"

"Why am I not allowed to bring a man today?"

Michael was unaffected by her unraveling of emotions. "It's about your choice of man."

"I'm not allowed a man of my own?"

Michael held out his arm between Lizzie and his cousin. "Kizzie, head back to the party. We'll be there soon."

"Ok—"

"No," Lizzie said. "She's a grown girl. You don't tell her where to go, Michael."

Acid bubbled in Kizzie's throat at the change in Michael's orange colors. Like heartburn.

"Be careful, Lizzie. Tommy's orders stand. You don't bring your man here and Kizzie stays out of trouble."

"Michael," Arthur's gruff voice echoed from down the hall. He waddled a bit, Kizzie saw. Same way he used to when he drank. "C'mon, speeches." He stopped and found Kizzie tucked behind Lizzie. "Kizzie girl? You alright?"

"She was just heading upstairs," Michael told him.

Arthur's fingers grazed her arm. "You alright?"

"I'm okay."

He swiped a bottle of champagne from the one of the trays a maid was walking through with. "C'mon then!" He held out an open hand for her. Kizzie gripped it tightly. She couldn't stand the tension between Michael and Lizzie right now. Arthur's warmth and familiarity were enough to reground herself.

"Arthur," Lizzie began, "you know why he didn't come, don't you?"

"Why who didn't come?"

"My bloody man!"

"Oh right...the wop."

"I just heard there was a fire at his restaurant midnight last night. And a smashed back window and smell of petrol."

Michael sighed. "Lizzie, we tried to talk some sense into you. We did checks on him. He's had five different names in the last six years. And he's got connections with the Naples boys."

Kizzie tugged on Arthur's jacket as he took a big gulp of champagne. "Why would someone need so many names for?"

"So they can do bad things, Kizzie girl. Not someone you need to be around." He gripped her hand tighter. "C'mon, Michael."

Lizzie shook her head, glare still strong on Michael. "What do you know about love? About when lightning strikes?"

"So, it was lightning. Not petrol, hmm?"

Michael chuckled and followed Arthur and Kizzie back towards the party, leaving a despondent Lizzie behind. Kizzie looked back at her, tried to smile, but was dragged through the door before she had the chance.

Author's Note:

One of my most favorite bits of dialogue I wrote for this story is coming up next chapter and I'm so excited.

Thank you all for reading and for your patience!