Page 37 of The Storybook Hero
“Yes, you did. You called me ass.” He turned to Alex. ”What is ‘ass?’”
“It’s a donkey, stupid,” retorted Emma.
“Emma!” said Octavia sternly. “It’s most unfair to call someone stupid for not understanding?—”
“She is the stupid one,” jeered Nicholas. “She?—”
“That is quite enough!” roared Alex.
An immediate silence descended on the little group.
“Now, perhaps we can deal with this in a more civilized fashion.” He regarded the two young people with a quelling gaze. “Miss Renfrew, kindly tell me what happened.”
A squeak of protest from Nicholas was quickly cut off by another stern look. “You will have your turn as well,” said Alex. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Miss Renfrew? Miss Hadley and I are waiting.”
Emma’s eyes dropped to the carriage floor. “He pulled my hair. Hard. So I slapped him.”
“And why did he pull your hair?”
Her mouth scrunched up in a rather guilty expression. “Boys are odious,” was all she muttered.
Alex turned to Nicholas.
“She called me a bad name, Alex.” he said with a pout. “I don’t like her at all. I want her to leave—the sooner the better.”
Alex’s countenance began to glaze over. Armed assailants he could deal with, reflected Octavia, but apparently two brangling children?—
Emma fluttered her lashes. “He started it, Mr. Leigh. Truly, I didn’t even speak to him until it became clear he was out to provoke me,”
The boy howled in outrage. “That’s not true!”
Octavia took one look at Alex’s confused expression and took matters into her own hands. “I’ve heard quite enough from both of you,” she announced in a no-nonsense governess voice.“Emma, you will apologize his instant to the count for your unladylike behavior.”
“But—” One look at her guardian’s face caused the girl to reconsider her protest. A barely audible mumble followed, delivered with a decided lack of grace, but Octavia let it pass.
The boy’s smug expression was quickly wiped from his face by her next words. “And you, Lord Nicholas will apologize to Miss Renfrew for your own shabby conduct.”
The look of mute appeal thrown Alex’s way was studiously ignored. The boy swallowed hard, then forced out the required response.
“Now the two of you will shake on it.”
With great reluctance, the two small hands barely grazed each other before being jerked back as if scorched by a flame.
“Consider any debt you feel you might owe me paid in full,” murmured Alex as he tugged at the knot of his cravat.
Octavia took his arm and drew him away from the sleigh. “Perhaps you would care to reconsider your offer?”
“Surely it can’t get any worse than that,” he replied.
Her brow arched. “Do you not have any sisters, Mr. Leigh?”
He shook his head.
“Well that explains such a sanguine outlook.” She pulled her coat closer and stamped her feet on the frozen ground. “Should we not be off before the horses take a chill? We could argue until Doomsday about whether to join forces, but as time is of the essence, I concede that pragmatism demands that we put aside our differences.” Her gaze darted back toward the door that was still ajar. “I suppose I had best ride inside to forestall any further fireworks.”
“You have my eternal gratitude.”
“I would rather have your best efforts at the ribbons. I have a feeling that the sooner we get to St. Petersburg, the better.”
