Page 58 of Snowbound Regency Christmas
‘Yes,’ Devin and Julia said at the same time.
‘I am sure that it is nothing more than a lovers’ quarrel, Mary,’ her husband said.
Devin felt even more irritated.
‘My sister ended up in Bailey’s Jug after a lovers’ quarrel,’ Mr Rhys said with a jeer.
‘Quiet, Angus,’ Mr Pip said, stroking his sinister beard. ‘You’re a trifle disguised.’
Devin did not think that Angus was a little inebriated, he thought that the man was well and truly foxed. Why else would he tell a group of strangers that his sister was in a prison?
‘Oh dear,’ Mrs Mack said, bringing her napkin to her lips.
‘Oh dear indeed,’ Mr Rhys agreed with a wink, his cheeks unnaturally red. ‘But it were worth it for her, since she won the argument with the help of her kitchen knife.’
An awkward hush fell over the horrible dinner. What did one say after a stranger admitted that his sister had murdered her husband?
‘Are you suggesting I borrow one of Mr Peebles’s kitchen knives, Mr Rhys?’ Julia asked.
‘Only if you want to win your argument with your husband.’
And then he heard Julia make another of her infernal sounds. It was half snort, half laugh, and entirely charming. Devin found himself holding in a laugh. Then Julia giggled and the rest of the table laughed. It was too ridiculous not to. Including the very bosky Mr Rhys. Perhaps Devin could use the man’s inebriation to learn more about the stolen goods they were hoarding. ‘Angus, is it?’
The man pointed a thumb at his chest. ‘Angus T. Rhys III.’
‘The third what?’ Julia quipped and Devin had to purse his lips to keep from smiling.
‘No idear, my fine lady, no idear!’
Everyone laughed again, including Peebles, who laughed longer than the rest. Devin picked up his wine glass. ‘To Mr Rhys’s sister and the winning of all marital arguments.’
Mrs Mack glanced at her husband as if seeking permission before she picked up her glass. Julia had hers raised defiantly and the last person to lift their cup was Mr Pip. He had to be the brains of their two-man crew. The group echoed his toast with laughter and then sipped from their glasses.
Julia was still holding the sleeping girl but managed to keep her wine glass raised. ‘To the Christmas season and to warm fires and new acquaintances.’
Everyone drank a second time with more enthusiasm than they had to his toast.
The rest of the meagre meal passed without interest or incident. Peebles cleared the table and Mrs Mack took back her sleeping child after thanking Julia warmly. Then she turned and harangued Devin. ‘You are so lucky to have such a kind and thoughtful wife. See to it that you don’t forget it.’
For a woman who had been a wet dish-rag to all of her older husband’s complaints throughout the day, it surprised him that Mrs Mack would attempt to take him to task for his treatment of his supposed wife. ‘I won’t.’
Judging from the ill-assorted company, it was going to be a long evening. Angus T. Rhys III was back to the tap with another pint of blue ruin and Timothy Pip was standing near him as if to shield his partner’s thoughtless words and behaviours from the group. Peebles, presumably, was in the kitchen cleaning up after the glue-stew he’d cooked. Which left himself, Julia, Mr and Mrs Mack and their sleeping daughter.
‘Would you be interested in a game of whist?’ Julia asked.
The Macks agreed and for the next couple of hours Devin learned to not bet any money against Julia. Not that they were playing for money. Mr Mack was a curate who did not believe in gambling, which proved fortuitous for the man because Julia would have taken both his shirt and his shoes. She was a card shark and Devin was glad that he was her partner. He stood up and bid farewell to the Macks, and Julia followed suit. As a gentleman, he should have followed behind her up the stairs, in case she were to fall.
He didn’t.
Devin walked up without a glance behind him and tried not to regret his moment of pettishness when he realised that he’d missed the perfect opportunity to glance at her behind on the way up if he’d allowed her to go first. He did, however, open the door for her. She did not thank him.
‘Please keep your eyes focused on the window’ was all that she said.
Opening his own trunk, Devin made a rather poor effort to focus on his own gear and nightshirt. But truthfully, his gaze was on her reflection in the glass, her naked slender calves and her beautiful bare arms, before she covered them with a nightgown that was primmer than a granny’s. The garment was so long that it brushed the ground. The cuffs nearly covered her fingers and if the neckline had been any higher, it would have been over her saucy mouth.
He pulled his own nightshirt on and watched as she bent over to add more logs to the fire—he most definitely should have let her walk up the stairs first. Then Julia pulled the pins out of her hair and shook her honey curls seductively. Despite being covered from her neck to her toes, Devin was on fire for her. She acted innocent, but he wondered if Julia knew what she was doing to him. If she had, she would probably have laughed in his face.
‘I packed my own sheets, so there is no need for us to touch.’
