“I hear you hit a man, lad,” Rory said. I neglected to point out that I hadn’t been a lad in some time, and if anything she was perhaps younger than I was.
“He did!” Davina added. “I thought he was unflappable. But apparently, there is a limit to Kit Summers’ seemingly unending self-control.”
“You’ve seen me mad more often than most,” I retorted. Alfie eyed our discarded plates with interest. “Help yourself, Alfie. Though I did order fresh for you.” Unconcerned with quality, he snatched both plates and made himself comfortable.
“Oh, I know. I truly thought you might hit Mr. Decker—the milliner—that time you found me working in his shop. I was certain if a man was as furious as you were and didn’t hit another man, there was nothing that could induce you.”
The reminder of yet another man insulting my Davina had my fingers twitching for a nonexistent whiskey glass. And that one had hit her as well. “Should’ve killed that one,” I muttered.
“What?” she asked, and Rory echoed the sentiments. Alfie was chiefly occupied with his supper.
“He hit you,” I said, certain that was all the explanation required. It sufficed for Rory, and Alfie hadn’t managed to work up a care. Davina still wore a puzzled expression.
“You didn’t know me—hell, our singular meeting to that point was an utter disaster.”
“Two meetings. We’d met once before Katie’s wedding.”
“We did?”
“It was a spring day, she and I were promenading—which is an absurd word for walking by the way—at my aunt’s directive. Katie needed to be seen and no one had called on her after Hugh was an arse at her first ball. So I was the only available gentleman. You and Celine were walking together and stopped to speak with her. You were wearing what I now know to be one of your less ridiculous frocks, a stark-white thing with bits of green lace and embroidery. I remember thinking it was an absurd choice for awalkthrough a muddy park.”
“I know the dress, but I don’t even... How do you remember all that?”
We were interrupted by the arrival of the whiskey and I took a heavy sip.
“Yes, do tell us why you remember all that detail,” Rory added, propping her chin on her hand and gazing with interest.
“I was one and twenty and she was a pretty girl. Of course I noticed her.”
“I was standing next to Celine,” Davina murmured, still wearing a confused frown.
“Yes…”
“What wasshewearing?”
“I don’t know, probably something purple.” It was a safe guess, Celine seemed to like purple.
“You don’t remember?” The words escaped slowly, a beat hanging between each.
I leaned toward Rory. “What have I done wrong?” I questioned, under my breath. I didn’t make much of an effort to whisper, Davina would hear regardless.
“If ye dinnae know, I’ll not be the one to tell ye.”
“You don’t remember,” Davina repeated, smoother and without the questioning tone. Slowly a smile spread across her lips.
“What is happening?”
“Nothing, just… It’s the effect Celine has on people. I didn’t know anyone was immune.”
“Oh, that. Yes, it’s quite amusing when she arrives at the offices. Every one of our clerks stares at her until Will closes the door. And they spill things too. Higgins dropped an entire pot of ink weeks ago and we still cannot get the stain up. It was quite the lark when she and Will were— Can you call whatever they did courting? But it is becoming tiresome.”
Davina’s hand grabbed mine and brought it to her lips where she kissed my palm. I wasn’t entirely certain what I’d done, but it seemed to be a good thing.
At last, the maid, Sally, brought the roast for Alfie and Rory. And a few odds and ends for us to munch on. The cheese seemed fresh and the bread was actually soft. Apparently minimizing property damage entitled one to the edible food.
The roast looked to be improved, too, as Rory took a calm bite. Alfie merely moved on to the next full plate. “Are we not feeding you enough?”
“He could eat this entire place down to the studs and still be hungry,” Rory grumbled. “He’ll eat precisely as much food is available.”
