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After a long night, Lucille and Peter woke up tangled together, naked bodies still coated in sweat from the night before.
"I've got to go. I'm already late for work." Peter smiled apologetically as he sat up.
Thomas was downstairs in the arm chair, listening in to see if he could make out what the faint voices were saying.
He had come over to speak to Lucille about Lizzie and the conversation he had with her the night before. But, he didn't realise that she would have company.
"Don't worry about it. I'm working today, too."
Peter got dressed, kissed Lucille quickly before he bounced down the stairs and went on his way without noticing the figure of a Shelby man sitting in the arm chair.
Lucille pulled on her satin robe, deciding not to bother getting dressed just now as she didn't have to go in to work until the afternoon.
Thomas watched as she walked slowly down the stair case, trying to brush through her knotted hair with her fingers.
"Morning." Thomas mumbled.
Lucille jumped, heart racing and ready to defend herself when she turned to face the intruder.
"Fucking hell, Thomas!" She shouted at him, hand on her heart. "What the fuck is your problem?"
"I don't have a problem."
She ignored his snarky remark and sat on the sofa across from him, narrowing her eyes as he smoked a cigarette.
"Why are you in my house?"
"I came to speak to you about Lizzie. But you were busy... Clearly." He took his time to look her up and down.
It looked as though he was judging her when in reality he was admiring her. He was mature enough to admit that she was absolutely beautiful but he was wise enough to know he shouldn't tell her.
"And?"
"I spoke to her last night. She denied it of course but I know what she's like." His shoulders shrugged.
"And you believe me over your wife?"
"I do. I trust Lizzie but I don't believe everything she says. She's different now. I don't know why but I'll find out and when I do-"
Lucille interrupted him before he could say any more.
"Don't do anything stupid, Thomas. She's still your wife." Tommy groaned and leaned his head back against the back of the chair. "Fancy a cuppa? Or a whiskey?"
"Go on then. Tea's fine."
Lucille disappeared into the kitchen and began making them both a cup of tea.
The fact that they had managed to have a conversation together without arguing had surprised her. What surprised her more was the fact that Thomas Shelby agreed to having tea with her instead of a glass of whiskey.
