Part 36 (1/2)
”Which is also why they made him Chief Magistrate,” Aunt Ada pointed out, still preening with pride over both preferments. ”About time, I say.”
Jackson sighed. His two magpies had been boasting of his success to everyone they saw. ”Ignore them, Freddy. You can call me whatever you please.” Having spent most of his life despising people of rank, he still wasn't sure how he felt about being one of them.
”Oh, but that's why I want to talk to you, old chap!” Freddy said. ”I want to hear firsthand the tale of how you rescued Lady Celia ... Lady Pinter ... oh, whatever you English call the knighted ladies.”
”Lady Pinter,” Celia said firmly.
She'd had a choice between keeping her loftier t.i.tle or taking Jackson's name upon her marriage. It still pleased him that she'd chosen the latter.
”And ladies can't be knighted,” Celia added gently, ”only men.”
”Though in this case the lady deserved to be knighted, since she played a part in catching the villain,” Jackson said.
”She did?” Freddy gazed at Celia with new admiration. ”Tell me everything. I want to hear whatever they left out of the papers. Were there swords? I know someone was shot. Was there lots and lots of blood?”
”Freddy!” Celia exclaimed as Aunt Ada gaped at Freddy, aghast. ”We're not going to talk about that at Gran's wedding!”
”I don't know why not. She married a general. He knows something about guns and blood, I daresay.”
”Then go talk to him,” Celia said. ”I swear, you're as bad as your cousin.”
That was true. Lady Stoneville had quite the fondness for vivid accounts of murder and mayhem.
But Freddy had another, more compelling fondness. Jackson leaned over to murmur, ”There's pie, my good fellow. Right over there. Three kinds.”
”Steak and kidney?” Freddy asked, eyes lighting up.
”You'll have to go see. I haven't had any yet.”
That was all it took to have Freddy bounding over to his wife Jane and dragging her to the table to help him figure out what kind of pie it was.
”Good heavens,” Aunt Ada exclaimed. ”What is the matter with that young man?”
”He's a good sort. He's just a little ... different. And speaking of different...” Jackson murmured as he saw Ned ambling toward them.
Celia followed Jackson's gaze and tensed.
Then Ned spotted them, and the blood drained from his face. He very markedly turned and walked in another direction.
”What was that all about?” Celia asked.
”Who knows?” Jackson said, though he allowed himself a private little smile.
”Oh, look,” Aunt Ada said, ”the newlyweds have entered. I must go pay my respects. Are you coming, Jackson?”
”Go on,” he said. ”We'll be there in a minute.”
Someone else was approaching, and Jackson was none too happy about it. He hadn't seen Devonmont since the house party and wouldn't mind never seeing the man again, but since Devonmont was his new sister-in-law's cousin, that was unlikely.
As the man neared them, Celia cast Jackson an a.s.sessing glance. ”You do know he never meant a thing to me.”
”That makes me only slightly less inclined to smash his face in.”
”Jackson!” she said laughingly. ”You would never do any such thing.”
”Try me.” He glanced at her. ”Don't let this sober faade fool you, sweeting. When it comes to you, I can be as jealous as the next man.”
”Well, you have no reason.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek and whisper, ”You're the only man I'll ever love.”
He was still reveling in that remark when Devonmont reached them. ”I take it this would not be a good time for me to kiss the bride?” he drawled.
Jackson glared at him.
”That's what I thought,” Devonmont said, laughing. ”But seriously, Pinter, you're a very lucky man.”
”How well I know it,” Jackson said.
”And I say most sincerely that your wife is a very lucky woman as well.”
Jackson was taken aback. ”Thank you, sir,” he managed.
After Devonmont nodded and walked away, Celia said, ”Surely that softens you toward him a little.”
”Perhaps,” Jackson conceded. ”Though it's a good thing Lyons isn't here. I don't think I could be civil to both in one day.”