The ugly Luna

Bubbies and realisations

*Polly*

“I think that went very well,” I say once we're in the carriage on the way home.

“No, it did not,” Fennec says shortly.

I glare at him, “How can you say that? Geoffrey was quite taken with me!”

“He might have been taken with your bubbies.” He mumbles.

“Bubbies? Bubbies? Fennec, you really shouldn’t be using that sort of slang around me,” I say with some delight. “Bubbies. I love that word.”

He leans forward, and I realize with a start that he is furious. “Don’t ‘Fennec’ me. You could not have been more obvious flirting with Trevelyan.”

“That’s true. I meant to be obvious.” I tell him.

“Well, do you want to know something? You don’t belong with your darling Geoffrey. Not at all.” He huffs.

I look curiously at him, “Why not?”

“His tongue is even more spiteful than yours. He used to poke at me, just for fun, and if I had paid him any mind, he could have proved a pain in the ass.”

I break into a laugh. “You, upset?”

“I said, if I paid him any mind. You’re not me, Polly. You would listen to him, and he would cut you to pieces.” Fennec says.

“He will love me,” I explain. “I shall quite enjoy watching him dissect our fellow man, but because he will love me, I’ll be out of bounds. He won’t be rude to his mate.”

He shakes his head, “Nothing and no one is out of bounds for Trevelyan. I’ve heard him make jokes about his own mother. To be utterly frank, Poppy, he’s the kind of man who is most himself when he is dressed as a she-wolf.”

“What!” I gasp.

“Just what I said.” Fennec leans back and looks at me with an insufferably smug expression. “I know him and you don’t.”

I blink several times, “Are you saying that he’s interested in men?”

“Is there anything you don’t dare to say aloud?” Fennec yelps. “No, I am not! I’m just saying that he’s an odd bird, that’s all. Very odd. Not for you. I won’t let you marry him.”

“You won’t let me marry him? You?” I am incensed. “Well, let me remind you that you have absolutely nothing to do with whom I marry. Nothing!”

Fennec narrows his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

“There is nothing to see,” I snap. “If I want Geoffrey, I’ll marry him.”

“Not unless you want to share your silk stockings.”

I gasp again. “You’re being unspeakably rude, and you should apologize. I don’t know why you would say such a thing of Geoffrey.”

“Because it’s the truth. I lived with him. Only when he put on skirts… which he did at the slightest pretext… did he stop being so nervy that he bit at someone every five minutes. But go ahead. I gather you think you know him best.”

“I do know Geoffrey best. You may have played at charades when you were at school. But he’s grown up now, even if you haven’t.”

Fennec rools his eyes, “Right. It’s all my fault.”

“Not your fault,” I say. “But I think I understand men a bit better than you do, Fennec. After all, you’re still thinking of Geoffrey as a boy. I see him with a she-wolf’s eyes.”

Fennec scowls at me. “She-wolf’s eyes! Piffle.”

“If you accompany me just one more time,” I coax him, “just to the royal musicale tomorrow night, after that I’m certain I will not need the attention I get from dragging you with me. Geoffrey has noticed me now, you see. One more encounter will be enough.”

He huffs, “For what? True love? For him to realize you are his one true mate?”

“Perhaps,” I say, thinking of the way Geoffrey’s mouth curves up on one side and not the other. “Maybe.”

“You wouldn’t know true love if it hit you on the side of the head,” Fennec says, folding his arms over his chest. “And you are not old enough to recognize your true mate.”

“Well, you are no more of an expert. Don’t tell me that you feel true love for Bella, That she is your true mate… because I know perfectly well you don’t and she isn’t. You are infatuated with those enormous bubbies that she was displaying to everyone on Oxford Street.”

“Look here,” Fennec says, looking a bit alarmed. “You mustn’t start using that word. It’s not polite.”

“Bubbies!” I repeat, just stopping myself from sticking out my tongue at him. I am seventeen, after all. I have to act like a lady. “I know what you see in Bella,” I content myself with saying. “And it isn’t love.”

“Bella’s attributes are not a matter for our conversation,” Fennec retorts.

I laugh. “Then her pretty face? I don’t think so!”

“No more!”

“Who’s going to talk to me about this sort of thing, if not you?” I say, relaxing back into the corner.

He groans, “Not me.”

“Too late. You’re the closest thing I have to a brother,” I tell him, feeling a little sleepy. “Can you wake me up when we’re home?”

*Fennec*

I sit rigidly in my corner and stare at her. Even with the dim lantern that lights the carriage, I can see the line of her thigh, not to mention her bubbies, breasts, whatever.

Trevelyan certainly noticed them. I had to stop myself at the ball from reaching over and jerking the man’s head out of Poppy’s décolletage.

‘Mate… mine’ echoes in my head. I am not sure why I first realized tonight. But I can’t act on it… she doesn’t know yet. Also I am supposed to see her as a sister… and most of all I hate playing into my father’s desire.

She will not marry Trevelyan. Not under any circumstances.

Even... even if I really do have to marry her myself to prevent it.