Title: The Observations of Lady Pole
Fandom: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Length: 450
Rating: G
Content notes: no warnings apply
Author note: follows on from something more tender still than friendship, and contains spoilers for that. Also a fill for the "Easy" challenge at femslashficlets and for the square The Other Side on my bingo card.
Summary: Everything to do with magic makes Lady Pole uneasy now.



If Emma Pole had her way, all the magic in the world would be torn up by the roots. She had escaped from Lost-hope only to find London full of magicians, quarrelling bands of Strangeites and Norrellites. She had come to Venice in hopes that things would be different there, but it soon became clear that Arabella's new acquaintance Miss Greysteel was as besotted with magic as Mr Strange had been. Worse still, it appeared that Arabella not only tolerated but encouraged her in this. After all that Emma had suffered in Lost-hope, this was an insult not to be borne.

Emma had made her feelings plain - too plain, perhaps, for now the two of them fell silent when she entered a room. It was clear that they must have been talking of magic; what other secrets could there be between them? Magic had robbed her of half her life and now, it seemed, it had taken her only friend from her into the bargain. If this was to be her life in Italy, she would make arrangements to return to England, there to shut herself up from the disappointments and betrayals of society.

Her mind was more easy in consequence of this determination, and she had leisure to observe more narrowly what passed between Arabella and Miss Greysteel. The lamps were lit for evening, and Doctor Greysteel drowsing over the latest news in Galignani's Messenger. Miss Greysteel was poring over one of her books of magic, Arabella engaged in sketching her at her studies. There was a tenderness in Arabella's expression that Emma was not accustomed to see there: it gave her a pang. Even in the depths of her absorption, Miss Greysteel appeared to become aware of her friend's scrutiny. She glanced up from her book, her gaze meeting Arabella's, and a blush of consciousness suffused her face and neck. Arabella smiled at her with an air of private intelligence that made everything suddenly plain as print.

Though Miss Emma Wintertowne had been something of an innocent when she married Sir Walter, Lady Pole had seen the way that lovers looked at one another, in London and in Lost-hope. There was no mistaking it. This, she reflected, put quite a different complexion on the matter. If the secret pleasures Arabella shared with Miss Greysteel were not those of magic but of Sapphism, Emma's departure from Venice might not be necessary after all. True, the company of lovers could be tedious for a third party, but it need not be a threat to her peace. When Arabella caught her eye and blushed in her turn, Emma smiled at her without constraint for the first time in many weary days.