“I, um, sat on it and it cracked.” Gus sank down to his chair and cupped his hands around his warm mug. “I wanted to see if I could fix the crack so I—”
Daffy interrupted his story. “He ignored me when I told him to get up and kept moving the chair.”
“Then splat. On the floor,” Gus said. “Me and the chair.”
“I see.” Emmanuel glanced about the pub. His attention landed on a man across the room. “Dean Hayden. His new wife is ill. Let me say hello.” The carpenter carried his mug three tables over and sat with Dean, whose chin sat on his chest as he listened, occasionally bobbing his head and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand.
“He’s an odd duck.” Gus gulped his cocoa. “Do you think he’s coming back?”
“I don’t know, but Dean seems to need him more than we do at the moment.”
Gus watched, sorting through his impressions of this man. Sorting through his feelings for the woman across from him. He just needed to guard himself until the chair was fixed. Until she finished staging the gowns and returned to Port Fressa. And her fiancé. Never forget the fiancé.
The carpenter was another matter. His presence stirred something familiar in Gus. A desire for greatness. Not the kind that came with his birthright, but the kind he earned. The kind that came with doing what was right instead of what was expected of him. Greatness didn’t require fame or fortune, but rather a life well lived. Of being honest, true, faithful. Which he would begin in earnest once the chair was repaired and back in the Queen’s Library.
“I don’t understand him.” Gus shook his head. “But I like him.”
“I was thinking the same thing. We can trust him, Gus.” When she touched his arm, he covered her hand with his, liking that she usedwe. That he wasn’t in this predicament alone. Though he should be.
But en garde, mate.
Moments later, Emmanuel patted the man on the shoulder and set his empty mug on the bar with a salute to Ernst. “Until.”
Ernst raised his hand in salute. “Not so long.”
He paused by Gus and Daffy’s table. “I’ll come tomorrow morning at eight. Gus, will you help me make the repair?”
“Yes, yes, of course. I’m not handy with these things, but I’ll do what I can. I’m better at hoisting beams.” He resisted the urge to point to the one he installed thirteen years ago. How much bragging could a man do when he only stood on a ladder holding one end along with four other chaps?
“Meet me at the workshop by the mews.”
“Workshop. Mews. Check.” How did Emmanuel know about the workshop?
“You and the princess have a good evening. Don’t stay out late. Snow’s coming. See you in the morning.”
Daffy rose from her chair. “Sir, I’m not a…”
But Emmanuel had settled his hat on his head, paused by a red-faced man by the door who shoved him away, and then exited into the night.
“Guess I’ll be up early. You’ll cover for me?” Gus returned to his seat, reaching for his phone. “I can’t tell Hemstead where I’m going.”
“You don’t need my help to escape him. But what should I say if he asks?”
“Tell him I’m outside. Be as vague as possible.” He scanned his weather app. “Did Emmanuel say it was going to snow? Not according to my map. We’re in a warming. Tomorrow will be sunshine with a high of ten Celsius.”
“Maybe he means in the mountains? By the way, I won’t be around in the afternoon. Thomas and my mates are coming up to ski.”
Gus tucked his phone away as a bit of chill seemed to settle in his chest.Double en garde, chap. “You never said.”
“He and Ella just texted this evening. I’m meeting them for lunch.
“You’ll be glad to see your fiancé.”
“Of course.”
“We should go.” Gus dropped his payment on the table. “How should I get the chair? I’d like to get it in the morning, only move it once. Will you be up?”
“I’ll have to be, won’t I? How will you get it to this workshop? What can I do to help?”
