Page 15 of The Duke's Hellion

Well…

Hmm…

Sam took another sip to make it appear as though everything was normal and that he wasn’t trying to swallow the odd-shaped reality he could see forming before his very eyes and then feel forming in his throat. He nearly choked on the small sip he took.

Chris patted him hard on the back. A splutter. A cough.

And then an actual eye from Mimi rested upon him. Except it wasn’t the same curious—one might even say dreamy—eye that had befallen Vanic.

No, Sam was not the recipient of such an eye. He received the raised-to-the-roof brow, questioning his most basic competencies. Drinking.

Losing in archery to a woman who closed both of her eyes. Beating said woman in an arm wrestle. Choking on his drink in front of said woman. This was not his morning. Surely, the house party could not get any worse. It was only up from here on out.

“Do you think it’s going to rain this week?” That was the brilliant question Chris was asking Roger while Sam collected his bearings.

He was not one to be easily rattled. So what if the morning wasn’t going as he had planned. It was not important. All that mattered was how he reacted to it and chose to move forward.

Not willing to take another sip quite yet, Sam exchanged hands with the drink again. He took a quick glance up at Mimi, discreetly, but she was back to observing Roger. And this time, Sam allowed himself to take a longer look at her, and he could see that she was plotting. He didn’t know how, but he could just tell that her mind was concocting some grand scheme, and it involved Roger.

Sam slapped Roger on the back, jostling him out of the rain conversation. “God, I hope you’re ready for this house party.”

Roger and Chris gave Sam a dubious look. The kind of look a person gave a man when they completely understood the words he was saying but not the meaning or the timing of them. He may as well have said that there was a rooster in the room strutting about. Yes, a cock trying to prove himself. But whose?

Well, someone was strutting. It was Mimi. She was headed straight toward them, Nobi in tow with slightly widened eyes.

Mimi’s eyes on the other hand looked dreamy, or was that cloudy? Upon closer inspection, Sam couldn’t be sure.

Regardless, it looked as though a storm of some kind was brewing, and rain was surely in the forecast. In hindsight, that weather conversation was quite apropos.

Mimi opened her mouth to speak forming the shape of anO, when Chris jumped in. “It’s going to be such a lovely wedding, isn’t it?” Not exactly the most manliest of conversation topics, but Sam didn’t want to be a picky beggar at this point.

“Indeed,” Nobi replied.

“And how proud are you that Joan and James played such an integral role in uniting the bride and groom?” Chris asked to further the conversation.

Nobi nodded her agreement. Mimi piped up, “We all played a role in it.”

“Oh?” Sam challenged her with one word, and he could see the defiance rise up within her like a squall.

“Yes. We did. Isn’t that right, Nobi?” She nudged her sister but didn’t wait for any form of affirmation before plowing on. “Someone needed to spread the gossip about Jacob’s…status..to pique Sally’s interest.”

“So you were the origin of all the salacious tidbits?” Sam asked.

Mimi’s cheeks turned red but she obviously ignored the embarrassment, for she continued to trod forward. “Not all of them, actually,” she narrowed her gaze at him, “just the good pieces.”

He could have sworn he saw her wink to punctuate her last sentence, but really, he had to doubt that. Didn’t he?

While Sam stood stupefied—though hopefully not obviously—Chris filled in. “We’re just happy to see a happy couple.” An elbow bumped into his kidney. “Aren’t we?”

“So happy,” Sam mumbled. “Delighted.”

Roger had been silent, as per his usual, for the entire conversation, so Sam appreciated when he finally did speak. “Well, it stands to reason that with happy people we shall have a diverting house party,” Roger summarized. “Excuse me.” And with that, he quit the group in search of another drink. Or another conversation. It didn’t matter.

Roger was not an easily stimulated or amused fellow, so the fact that he thought something was going to be amusing was terrifying to Sam. Most assuredly, terrifying. A shiver ran down his back.

“Mimi, shall we take some tea?” Nobi spoke the words as a suggestion, but they sounded like a plea.

“I think that’s a…delightfulidea.” Oh. The chit was mocking him. He shouldn’t be surprised. She wasn’t the type to hold back, and she had certainly mocked him before. But the way she saiddelightful…he couldn’t erase the tone from his ears, and for a split second he wondered what she might truly find delightful.

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