Page 55 of Savage Blooms (Unearthly Delights #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Nicola

Once it became apparent that the boys would not be back for some time, Nicola wandered up the narrow stairs to Eileen’s room.

She hadn’t been up to this room yet, and she was nervous to knock.

But Eileen called her inside, and Nicola walked in to find Eileen playing a very serious game of solitaire.

Eileen’s dark brows were creased in contemplation as she laid down cards just so on the white duvet of her bed.

Nicola had imagined Eileen’s room before out of curiosity, sometimes innocent, sometimes less so, and she had always imagined some kind of gothic chamber, perhaps adorned with taxidermized birds or elegantly displayed kink gear.

But instead, the room was small and cozy, hung with landscapes and tapestries and decorated with girlish trinkets like carved hand bells and miniature porcelain figurines of shepherdesses.

Eileen even had a caramel-colored teddy bear on her bed, an honest-to-God stuffed animal.

It appeared so well-loved Nicola supposed it must be a family heirloom.

“It’s getting dark,” Nicola said, clutching the woven blanket she had swiped from her own room tighter around her shoulders. It was nearly summer, but the weather was still mild, and the house was perpetually drafty. “Should we call them?”

“I say if they’re taking their time, let them,” Eileen said, placing down one more card before looking up at Nicola.

She was wearing a simple linen men’s shirt and black trousers, her wild hair swirled up in an artful bird’s nest on top of her head.

“So long as they don’t end up dead in a ditch or in the clink somewhere, I won’t complain. ”

“Don’t even say that,” Nicola said, but she was chuckling. She had learned the contours of Eileen’s dry sense of humor, and she had grown to appreciate it. “Are you hungry? I’m peckish.”

“I suppose we ought to fend for ourselves if the boys won’t be back in time for supper. Do you like charcuterie?”

“I love it,” Nicola said. “Don’t we have fresh grapes?”

“And honeycomb. Come on, let’s fix a platter.”

Nicola padded after Eileen down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she and Eileen arranged cheese, rosemary crackers, and the grapes and honeycomb onto a literal silver platter.

This felt a little lavish to Nicola, and the silver itself was tarnished, so well-used the floral engraving had been almost entirely worn away.

Eileen didn’t seem to think there was anything odd about having a light meal on silver, but then again, she had been born into decaying finery.

Eileen produced a bottle of merlot from the cellar, and they carried their spoils into the library, where they sat close together on the couch. A little color returned to Eileen’s cheeks in the glow of the fire, and Nicola warmed from the inside out as she sipped her wine.

“Do you like that?” Eileen asked, topping up Nicola’s glass with another pour. “I’m more partial to chianti myself, but this is a nice vintage. Can you taste the clove? I like it when wine has that quality; the taste of earth.”

“I’m not very good at the whole picking out tasting notes thing,” Nicola said. “I’m more of a discount six-pack girl myself. Not very sophisticated.”

“I think you’re quite sophisticated,” Eileen said, a playful sparkle in her eyes. “And cheap beer has its own rustic charms. Although you’re an artist with an eye for color and texture; you can probably pick out more notes than you think. I’ll show you. Go on. Take a sip.”

Nicola hesitantly raised her glass to her lips, then swallowed with determination.

“A small sip,” Eileen amended. “Don’t swallow this time. Hold it against your soft palate. Let the wine caress your mouth.”

Nicola blushed, feeling a bit silly for taking her time with something like drinking, which she usually did thoughtlessly as a means to an end, whether it was feeling included in a party or reaching that floaty headspace where she didn’t feel so paranoid about everything she said making people leave her behind.

But Eileen never broke eye contact, waiting patiently for Nicola to obey, and something about that focused attention made Nicola want to obey. It made her want to be good.

Nicola took a delicate sip of wine, letting it coat her tongue before she pressed the liquid up against the tender roof of her mouth.

“What do you taste?” Eileen asked.

“Wine,” Nicola said, feeling even more foolish as she swallowed as slowly as she could. “Red wine? With… tannins?”

“Good. Again. Look for more.”

Nicola brought her glass to her lips again, pausing this time to inhale deeply, the way she had seen people do in fancy restaurants.

“Maybe berries? A dark berry, not a strawberry. A blackberry?”

“Yes!” Eileen said, eyes alight with pleasure. “I get lots of blackberry. Good girl. Anything else?”

Nicola tried to ignore the way warmth pooled in her stomach at that phrase: good girl. Had anyone ever called her that? Certainly not with so much sincerity, like it wasn’t a joke at all.

“Vanilla,” Nicola pronounced with more confidence. It was easier to believe she was not only good but clever when Eileen encouraged her like that.

“Well done,” Eileen said. “Appreciating wine isn’t about skill, it’s about speed. Slowing down enough to appreciate all the different forms pleasure may take.”

“I still think you’re better at that than I am,” Nicola said, popping a grape into her mouth.

Eileen gave her a thin smile, like she was a cat who had caught the scent of a mouse in the walls.

“Hedonism can be learned. I’d say you’ve been a very diligent student.”

A double entendre from Eileen wasn’t uncommon, as she often spoke in riddles and suggestive metaphors. But it was hard not to feel, as they sat side by side alone in the great empty house, that there was something in that sentence that was meant especially for Nicola and Nicola alone.

With no audience to perform for, with no men around to titillate, Eileen’s favor felt more real. More meaningful.

It felt like an invitation.

“Here’s to lifelong learning,” Nicola said, raising her glass.

Eileen clinked their glasses together, eliciting a merry ting.

Nicola understood Finley especially well in that moment.

How he could fall so wholeheartedly for Eileen, despite her fickle whims and secrets and demands.

How being looked at like this, like you were the center of Eileen’s world, was more intoxicating than even the strongest wine.

Nicola knew, rationally, that Eileen was not the safest person to cozy up to, or at the very least, not the most honest. But she was so charismatic, black eyes reflecting Nicola’s own troubled childhood and desire for a life lived to the fullest back to her, and she was so beautiful, and her hand was resting lightly on Nicola’s knee.

“You’re cold,” Nicola said, brushing her fingers across Eileen’s knuckles. “Do you want to go back to bed?”

“Not on your life,” Eileen said, setting down her glass. “I’m having far too good a time with you. Here, let me stoke the fire.”

Nicola sat patiently while Eileen expertly fed the fire, feeling for all the world like a princess being doted on by a noble suitor.

When Eileen sat back down, the fireplace crackling merrily behind her, Nicola was so flustered by the display of chivalrous competency that it was all she could do to smile nervously.

“How is your book coming?” Eileen asked.

“Okay,” Nicola said. “Although writing about made-up creatures seems silly when there are real supernatural creatures roaming around outside.”

“It isn’t silly,” Eileen said, perfectly serious. “Children need tales of wonder to help them develop good brains. Besides, fairy tales teach us courtesy and safety. I’m sure there are a lot of lonely children out there who would do well to find a new friend in a book.”

“Exactly,” Nicola said, joy bubbling up inside her. “You understand. I didn’t have… Well, I didn’t have the most stable childhood, but books helped me to feel less alone.”

“Same for me. I was sick all the time, stuck in this big old house with just my parents and the doctor for company. I never met many children my own age, outside of Finley. Books were my constant companions.”

Nicola had wondered about all the children’s books in Eileen’s childhood bedroom, how she had seemingly neglected to get rid of any of them, but now she understood the sentimental attachment.

It was so humanizing to imagine Eileen returning to Peter Rabbit and The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland over and over again, so… sweet.

“Do you think you and Finley would have gotten together if you weren’t thrown together by circumstance like that?

” she asked, and then immediately regretted it.

Nicola was sometimes too earnest, too open with her curiosity.

She often offended people accidentally. However, Eileen didn’t seem upset, she only thought for a long moment.

“I think we would have found each other eventually,” she said. “We’re two sides of the same moon, him and I.”

“But you also found Adam,” Nicola ventured, emboldened to ask more questions after her first one wasn’t shot down.

“Yes, I suppose I did. He was an unanticipated boon, I’d say.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that,” Nicola teased.

“You’d better not,” Eileen replied with a smirk. “I’m trying to keep him on his toes.”

“I’m impressed you can manage them both.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem managing them yourself,” Eileen said, nudging Nicola.

They were seated even closer now, with their thighs and shoulders touching, ostensibly so they could both reach the charcuterie board.

But they had finished dinner fifteen minutes ago.

Was Eileen coming on to her? Nicola didn’t know, and she felt like assuming wrong in this situation would be unilaterally disastrous.