Chapter 381: walking

Lor left Lia's house and started walking home for lunch.

The lane ran down toward the main road between two rows of narrow townhouses.

At this hour it was nearly empty.

Only a baker's boy with a bread cart and a couple of pigeons were around.

The baker's boy whistled under his breath and kept his eyes on the cobblestones. T

he pigeons scattered when Lor's boots came close, then settled again behind him. He kept his hands in his pockets. His stomach growled with every step.

The morning had been productive.

That much he could admit.

Three girls in sheer body stockings, mouths on him one after another, the light from the windows on their faces while they worked.

Olivia's careful concentration. Lia's lack of shame. Sophia counting under her breath until the count turned into something else.

He had walked out of that house with the taste of them still on him and the knowledge that the exam tomorrow would go better for them because of it.

Now all he wanted was lunch.

His mother's cooking. A plate of something hot. A few minutes to recharge before he plans on what to do next.

Or Whom.

He was three streets away from his house when he saw her.

Nellie stood under the lamp-post at the next corner.

She was kicking a pebble back and forth between the toes of her boots.

The pebble skipped once, then stuck between two stones.

She frowned at it.

It was a deep, stubborn, thoroughly unhappy frown. It pulled her brows together over the bridge of her nose until she looked like someone who had been told the bakery was out of her favorite pastry.

It did not match the rest of her at all.

She was dressed up, though not to be sexy.

It was a simple outfit that just happened to look sexy on her.

The white blouse fit a little too closely. The fabric strained across her chest every time she breathed.

The top buttons she had left open against the warm day showed her collarbones and the soft curve of her breasts.

The short plum skirt sat high on her waist and hugged her hips.

Whenever she turned, the round shape of her ass showed through it, though she did not seem to notice.

The skirt was pleated.

Every time her boot swung at the pebble, the pleats flipped up and showed the top of her black thigh-high stockings and a strip of bare, pale thigh above them.

Her ash-brown hair was brushed to a shine and tied into one thick braid that lay over her shoulder.

A plum ribbon at the end matched her skirt. Her glasses had slipped halfway down her nose.

She held a box with gold trim in both arms, level against her stomach, like something precious.

And she was wearing MAKEUP.

Lor had seen Nellie flushed. He had seen her fogged. He had seen her stammering, crawling, and in nothing but a bell and a tail.

He had never seen her like this.

Someone had spent a long time over her face. A soft layer of powder covered every freckle across her nose and cheeks, leaving the skin smooth and even and faintly glowing.

Her lashes were darkened and curled behind the lenses, so that her gray-green eyes looked wider and softer than ever.

A hint of rose sat high on her cheekbones.

Her lips had a glossy tint of pink that she must have chosen with great care.

Her face looked pretty.

Lor stopped walking. Lunch could wait a few seconds.

"Nellie?"

Her head snapped up.

The frown left her face so fast that it was almost funny. Her gray-green eyes went wide behind the lenses.

Then every part of her face seemed to open at once. Her mouth first, then her cheeks, until the whole thing had turned into a smile that she could not have hidden if she had tried.

"Lor!" She pushed her glasses up with one knuckle because her hands were full and hurried over to him.

The braid swung forward over her shoulder. The pleats bounced with every step.

"I was just— I went to your house. I wanted to see you."

"Oh. I had gone out after breakfast."

She nodded.

"Your mother answered the door." The smile went a little crooked at one corner. "She was very kind. She told me you had gone out to play with your friends... The day before an important exam."

There was no accusation in it.

There was only a very small amount of confusion, the kind a person felt when someone they respected did something slightly out of character.

Lor lifted his chin and laughed, long and loud and so smug that a passing woman glanced at him sideways.

"Yep. Played all morning."

Nellie did not laugh with him.

Her smile stayed on her face, but she studied his expression for a moment.

Then her eyes dropped to the front of his shirt. He had rinsed it in a sink and tugged it back into shape.

It still showed a few faint creases along the ribs. He saw her gray-green eyes move over it, slow and thoughtful, and then travel back up to his face.

"By playing," she said, carefully, "do you mean the Guiding Light? Giving guidance to girls from our class?"

Lor looked up the lane, then down it.

The pigeons had settled again near the gutter. Shuttered windows ran the length of both rows of townhouses.

The baker's boy was already two blocks away, the bread cart's wheels ticking over the stones.

He turned back to Nellie, gave one slow, solemn nod, and pressed a finger to his lips.

"Shh."

Nellie went quiet.

She nodded, small and quick, twice.

Her braid bounced against her shoulder. The smile stayed on her face, but it thinned at the edges.

The bright, open look she had worn a moment ago folded itself neatly away somewhere behind her glasses.

Her fingers tightened on the gold-trimmed box until her knuckles paled.