Ellen drew her eyebrows together.
"This is delicious." Louisa was standing in front of him with crossed arms. "Tewkbury, pay a forfeit equal to the number of A's in your sentence. Stand up and deliver."
Ellen thought quickly. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dropped it on the floor in front of Tewkbury. As he knelt down to pick it up for her, she bent down at the same time and muttered, "Seven." She took the handkerchief he held out to her.
If he'd heard her, he did not acknowledge it, but in the end, he handed over seven objects he was carrying. He threw two quizzing glasses, two handkerchiefs, one flower, and one snuff box into the basket and, as the hilarity reached its climax, he took off a silver cufflink and threw it in as well.
"Well done, Tewkbury. For a moment I thought you'd forgotten how to count as well as your ABCs," boomed Monteroy.
Ellen decided that she heartily disliked the man.
Lady Dobberham, Mistress of Revels, decided that they should move on to another game where they had to write words on slips of paper according to clues she gave them, and the result was read aloud.
It was during this game that Ellen's suspicions were confirmed. She took the piece of paper Edmund had given her, on which he'd scribbled his response to Lady Dobberham's question regarding his favourite colour; and with only a second's hesitation, she corrected the spelling, which was 'pruple' — with the e upside down. Then she added a word of her own.
Her mind whirled.
Tewkbury sat with his eyes closed and an expression of boredom on his face, as if none of this mattered.
When Lady Dobberham announced they would now move on to the game "I love my love with an E", in which they had to complete sentences with words beginning with a certain letter, he stood up and stretched. "I've had my fill. Thank you, Louisa. I don't feel quite up to it and will retire."
"But you can't just quit the game like that, good chap, you have to redeem your forfeits," protested Bentley.
"Keep them." Tewkbury turned.
"You're a dashed bad sport, Tewkbury," Monteroy complained. "Why should he get away with it when the rest of us can't?"
"You must at least redeem your forfeits," Louisa insisted.
"I say. Must I?" he drawled.
"How about I redeem them for him and release him from the game?" Ellen stood up beside him. "Because no one should be forced to redeem forfeits if they feel unwell."
"That's not the way the rules work," Monteroy complained.
"What do you suggest, Lady Tewkbury?" Louisa asked.
Ellen looked into the basket and sighed. It couldn't be helped. "Let's keep it simple. I'll offer a kiss for each of the items and then he may be released."
The others clapped and agreed.
Ellen stepped up to Tewkbury. “Seven kisses," she whispered.
His eyes were deep and dark and brown, and she told herself that if she just kept looking into them, the others would retreat. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him full on the lips.
"One," the others chanted.
Two, three.. some were soft and lighter than butterfly wings brushing rose petals, others were more awkward smacks, and as the number increased, the kisses grew longer and slower, and his eyes became drugged and glazed as he kissed back.
“…five…six…seven.”
The last was the longest, sweetest kiss of all.
He almost toppled over.
Ellen steadied him, and they returned to their chairs. While the others clapped and laughed, Monteroy said they should change the penalty for forfeits because "it was getting rather boring watching them kiss", and another agreed, "What is so special about watching a married couple kiss?"
Thus, they retired to their room.
