"Let marriage be held in honor among all." —Hebrews 13:4
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Another day, another wedding. Trixie was running out of dresses nice enough for these sorts of occasions, and Tommy's assurance did little to quell her worries. "John doesn't know it's a wedding, no need to dress like it."
"You wear a three-piece suit to the stables, Tommy," she'd snarled in return. "I'm hardly gullible enough to be tricked into underdressing for the occasion."
Now, though, as they approached the Lee territory, John amped for a fight and the rest of the Peakys pleasantly boozed-up for the ceremony, Trixie felt silly in the dress she wore, an emerald-green thing she'd gotten the day before from a seamstress in the Chinese quarter.
It was the polite thing to do, she told herself. And anyway, Tommy was in a suit she'd never seen before, one that fit him so well that looking away became a challenge. She'd done the coward's thing and avoided him in the days since their negotiations, but now a confrontation was inevitable. She could tell on his face that he meant to have words with her, and Tommy was too accustomed to getting what he wanted to give up so easily. If only they wanted the same things; then she might be able to understand the deathless lack of fear among the rest of the gang.
"Ready, boys?" he asked, hands in his pockets. "John, ready?"
"Yeah, I'm ready." John clapped Beatrice on the shoulder and gestured to her gown. "Christ, Trix, you're not getting into a fight with that thing on."
"I'm here to seduce Erasmus," she deadpanned.
"Bloody likely," John laughed.
Arthur stuck his arm up between the two of them, extending a bottle in John's direction. "Have a drink," he invited.
As John sipped from the bottle, the rest of the boys eyed him nervously. No doubt John would be mad, but he had to go through with this anyway. Since Trixie had sabotaged Lizzie, and Esme was already in her veil somewhere in one of the Lee wagons, they didn't have any other option. "What the fuck's everybody staring at me for?" John demanded when the bottle parted with his lips. "What?"
"'S nothing," Trixie dismissed. "We're just waiting for a sip ."
He shoved it her way, not quite buying the excuse.
