Page 46 of The Storybook Hero
“And be flung arse over tea kettle against an oak beam? I’m not sure which is bloody worse,” cursed the Marquess. “If Alex wished some revenge for my past actions, he may count himself well on the way to extracting his pound of flesh.”
Thomas regarded the leaden waves. “And perhaps a few more ounces on top of that,” he said dryly.
The ship plunged down into a trough, causing another heave of the marquess’s stomach. He groaned. “Remind me to avoid all future endeavors that require even so much as a rowboat.”
“If it’s any consolation, Uncle Ivor is feeling just as poorly. However, the indefatigable Squid claims he has a cure for this as well, so let me assist you to our cabin.”
Down below in the cramped quarters, Alex’s valet was indeed administering a draught to the groaning earl, accompanied by a dose of cheerful chatter, which had the older man turning even greener about the gills. “Oh, I’ve become quite a dab hand at remedying any sort of queasy stomach, like one caused by a bellyful of champagne, or brandy, or claret?—”
The marquess put a hand to his mouth.
“—especially when followed by several cigars, and?—”
“Ah, I think we need not go into the gruesome details, Squid,” said Thomas, as he dropped his elder brother onto one of the narrow berths.
“What—oh, er, sorry.” Squid poured another tumbler of a greenish liquid from the pitcher at his side and passed it to Thomas. “Here now, have His Lordship swill a bit of this. It’ll have him feeling top of the trees in no time.”
William croaked a feeble protest but his brother would have none of it. “If Squid says it will be effective, than you had best down the stuff, no matter how vile it looks. He has certainly proved to be a fellow of most interesting skills.”
Squid grinned at the compliment. “I daresay I’ve kept Mister Alex out of trouble. More times than I can count on me fingers or toes.”
“Well, I hope you have another digit saved, for I have a feeling my younger brother may need it.” Thomas wedged himself into the third berth, using his long legs and shoulders to keep from being tossed about.
The valet seemed to have no trouble keeping his feet, rolling effortlessly with the pitched rhythm of the ship’s motion while straightening up the small cabin. “Has the captain any notion ofwhen we may arrive, sir?” he asked as he folded a rumpled linen shirt and put it away.
“Another two days, at least. Apparently, we must be on guard for a squadron of French frigates newly arrived in the Baltic, so our course may have us veer more to the north than we might wish.”
At that, the Marquess gave a low groan, though it was not clear whether it was due to this latest bit of news or his queasy stomach.
“Come now, William,” said Thomas. “At least you are not alone in your misery, while Alex is no doubt having to cope with even worse surroundings.” That is, he added to himself, assuming his brother was still alive.
“I’m happy to say that Alex’s usual behavior gives me cause—for once—to feel sanguine about his situation,” replied the marquess. “For to be honest, I think it unlikely that he ever left St. Petersburg. He probably encountered some attractive little bit of muslin, found a snug set of rooms along with a copious supply of the local spirits and is, as we speak, a good deal more comfortable than we are.” There was not a trace of rancor in his tone. “And I, for one, shall be more than delighted if all we have to is pry him, dead drunk, from between the sheets.”
“If he’s there,” piped up Squid, “I’ll find him in a flash, sir. Don’t you worry about that.”
The marquess propped himself up on one elbow, revealing that his face had regained some semblance of its natural color. “I have complete faith in your odd but useful abilities, my man. Already I am feeling more the thing,” he murmured. “Would you by any chance consider a change of employment on return to England—that is, if you can tie a cravat and polish a boot as well.”
The valet laughed. “Oh no, sir. Ye’d find me sadly disappointing in them sort of boring details. Besides, who would keep Mister Alex out of trouble?”
Thomas regarded his brother with a troubled look. “I think we may find that you are mistaken about Alex, William. Even as a boy, he was always the very soul of honor—and never cowardly or craven. Neither Uncle Ivor nor I believe he is so lost to his true self that he would abandon someone in need once he committed to the task.” A sigh slipped from his lips. “I doubt that our brother is enjoying the company of any female at the moment.”
Octavia pulledher hair back into a more severe style than usual. It only accentuated the dark circles under her eyes, but that hardly mattered, she thought, as she peered into the cracked mirror.
It was best that she recognized the harsh truth—she was an aging spinster with no family, no dowry and no prospects. Another hairpin jabbed into place. She was being more foolish than the children to let a sugary tale of heroes and happy endings have any effect on her own normally rational thoughts.
Determined to keep all such mutinous fantasies at bay, she thrust her brush into her reticule and marched downstairs. This morning she would drive and Mr. Leigh could sit inside and endure the trials and tribulations of Mrs. Radcliffe’s characters, Emily and Valancourt.
However, Alex appeared to have other ideas on the matter. “Start off the journey inside with the child—er, young people while you take the ribbons? Not likely.”
“Well, I don’t think I can tolerate another melodramatic chapter of the dratted book at this hour in the morning,” she muttered under her breath.
“What? I thought you a true romantic at heart.”
She colored, much to her dismay. “Hardly,” she snapped. “You know very well I am no such thing.”
“Hmm.” He took up her bag, along with his own. “The sleigh and horses are ready. We can continue what promises to be an interesting discussion on the driver’s box, if you truly don’t wish to avail yourself of the inside comforts.” His faint smile seemed no less than a challenge.
Octavia wasn’t sure which was more unsettling—submitting to the breathless narrative of Emma and Nicholas or sitting disturbingly close to Alex. However, her chin rose a fraction as she followed him through the door. After all, she now had full rein of her emotions. She could certainly manage converse with him without any more girlish flutters.
