Part 15 (2/2)

”No.” Gregor made himself comfortable on the barrel. ”Why is this barrel better than yours?”

Ravenscroft stood, turned, and bent over, displaying his rump to Gregor. ”Splintersh.”

Chambers bit back a laugh. ”Lord Ravenscroft, Lord MacLean does not need to see your, ah, posterior.”

Ravenscroft plopped himself back onto his barrel and winced. ”It hurts like the d.i.c.kensh, it does.”

”Then why do you continue sitting there?”

”Because it's near the rum toddies.” Ravenscroft found his cup, which had fallen to the ground. He picked it up, stared deeply into it, ran his finger around the inside, and licked it. He sighed. ”It'sh all gone.”

”So are you,” Gregor said.

The groom sent Gregor a sharp glance. ”Seems like the weather has settled a bit.”

”Shnow!” Ravenscroft snorted. ”In April! Whoever heard of such a thing?”

”Whoever indeed?” Chambers murmured. He picked up an empty cup and used a small pewter ladle to fill it, then handed it to Gregor. ”Here, my lord. To warm you a bit.”

Gregor took the cup, the warmed metal sending feeling back into his numbed fingers.

”Where's your coat?” Ravenscroft asked, suddenly sitting straighter.

”I left it inside,” Gregor said shortly.

Chambers quirked a brow. ”On the run, are you?”

”What?” Ravenscroft said, outrage in his voice.

”Did thoshe-thoshe harridans throw you out, too?”

”No one threw me out. I came of my own free will.” Gregor took a sip of the toddy, the warmth spreading through him immediately.

”You are jusht trying to keep your pride. I undershtand.”

”No, I'm not. I came here because I wished to-”

”Ha!” Ravenscroft lifted his fist toward a wall. ”d.a.m.n all of you, you-you-you women!”

Chambers poured himself a toddy and eyed the younger lord with mild curiosity. ”That's not the direction of the inn.”

Ravenscroft stared at the wall. ”It's not?”

”No. That's the direction of the road.”

”Oh.” Ravenscroft grabbed the sides of his barrel and turned in the opposite direction. Slowly, he rose to his feet and stood swaying, lifting his fist again. ”Here! Thish-thish-whatever I said before!”

”Well done,” Chambers said. ”Perhaps you should sit down again.”

”Yes,” Gregor said, noting how the younger lord was swaying. ”You might fall against the stove and I do not wish to hear you howl.”

Ravenscroft sat, holding his empty cup.

As Gregor drank, he began to relax and feel more like himself. Some of it was the toddy, but a good bit was the distance between himself and Venetia.

He sighed. He'd handled his conversation with Venetia with the finesse of a fishmonger. She didn't understand desire. But how could she? In many ways, she was more innocent than the squire's painfully naive daughter.

Which was yet another reason her pa.s.sion astounded Gregor. He took a fortifying drink, wis.h.i.+ng Venetia had been willing at least to discuss the issue with him, but she'd rejected him before he'd even gotten the words out. In all of his years, no woman had ever been so adamantly set against him.

For a long moment, he simmered over that. Yet even as he did so, he realized he should have agreed to follow whatever course Venetia desired. Then at least he still would have had the easy contact with her that he'd always enjoyed. Now she would regard him with suspicion no matter what he did. If he ignored her, she'd think he was still angry, and if he paid attention to her, she'd think he was attempting to seduce her.

Good G.o.d, what a mess! Perhaps...perhaps if he just acted normally, things would go back to the way they had been. Perhaps when they returned to London, the usual bevy of beauties would dull the attraction that had sprung up between him and Venetia, and it would disappear.

He slowly sipped the toddy. Perhaps that was what it was: a lack of compet.i.tion. If he'd been caught in this infernal storm with any woman, he would most likely see her in a different light.

Ravenscroft found his mug again and held it out to Chambers, who informed him the first batch was gone.

Ravenscroft fell into a fit of sullenness, mumbling about ill fate, uppity servants, and capricious women.

Sighing, Gregor stretched out his legs toward the stove. It was snug and warm inside the stall, the fire blazing merrily, the wood crackling and popping, the sweet smell of cloves and brandy from the toddies soothing.

Ravenscroft suddenly lifted his head. ”Know what I think?”

Neither Chambers nor Gregor answered.

”I think that it's warm enough in here to melt one of those big icicles hanging on the barn door.”

Chambers, mixing more toddies, looked disgusted.

”Of course 'tis warm enough. We've a fire.”

”I know that,” Ravenscroft said indignantly. ”I just think it would melt really fast.”

Chambers's thick brows rose. ”Oh? How fast?”

”Very fast.”

”Hmm. Suppose I bring one of those icicles inside, and we make a wager.” Chambers shot a cautious glance at Gregor. ”A small wager, of course.”

Gregor shrugged. ”Make it as big as you wish. Ravenscroft may sound like a child, but he is not.”

Ravenscroft looked behind him. ”Who is not a child?”

”You,” Gregor said. ”If you wish to throw your money away, you've no one to blame but yourself.”

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