"Rumours?" Her eyebrow lifted slightly as she leaned in. "I don't know any rumors - I just started not so long ago." But the hair on the back of her arms was prickling. What she knew wasn't rumor but truth.
The faint tinkling of a piano began to chime in the background and her head tilted, attention temporarily distracted with the plinking of the keys. Her slipper tapped the floor lightly, under the hem of her skirt where, thankfully, no one could see it. Fingers brushed the back of her neck, fidgeting with her hair. Sitting still, even for a few moments, was difficult at the best of times and this wasn't the best of them, not with the discordant jangling of the music pounding in her eardrums.
"I don't see MacFusty," she said bluntly, drawing the conversation away from work. "I've heard rumors that he was dancing attendance on you." Then Euphemia's mouth twitched, unable to repress what was a joke of very poor taste, considering. "Perhaps he's in Ibiza with Brandon."
Her fiancee of three weeks was not known for his ability to manage discretion. The Challenours put it down to sowing his "wild oats" and her parents had told her several times that he would calm after marriage. She doubted it. They'd known each other their whole lives - how they expected that a piece of paper would give her a magical ability to calm him, she really didn't know.