“I must say I’m impressed neither of you are stepping in.”
“Sssh,” the brothers said.
“Not you,” Zach said when the man with the moustache who was obscuring his view slightly turned. “My sister, she talks constantly. If I do not tell her to be quiet occasionally, her throat is hoarse by day’s end.”
The man looked from Zach to Abby, who was hissing something foul beneath her breath, and then turned back to his beaky-nosed companion, who as it turned out was Mr. Moulin.
“May I be of assistance?” the Frenchman asked.
“No thank you, we are quite well,” Nathan said. “Lovely to see you again.”
“And you,” Mr. Moulin said, frowning. He then turned back to his conversation after a final glance at the three siblings standing in a row.
“Excellent, as if people didn’t already think we were odd enough already. We’ve just confirmed it.”
Returning his attention to the knife-throwing sideshow, Zach saw Mary and Adam were now holding knives, as was Bertram the Beastly of the short lifespan if he did not watch himself.
“Perhaps you should go first, Mr. Bertram,” Mary said, her smile insincere. “After all, it’s your belief you will better both myself and this gentleman, so we will simply be a formality.”
Zach studied her pink cheeks. Clearly a sign of her anger, as he’d provoked her to that point many times. It would be on Adam’s behalf not hers.
“Good day to you,” Mr. Moulin said tipping his hat. He and his companion then walked away, leaving them exposed, but as Mary and Adam had their backs to them, they remained undetected. He, Nathan, and Abby moved closer. Abby’s hand stayed on Zach’s shoulder, and Nathan crowded him from the left.
“Why are you herding me in?”
“You’re unpredictable at the best of times, but with whatever this Mary business is—”
“What Mary business?” Abby demanded of Nathan.
Zach groaned softly as her hand clenched on his shoulder.
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Be quiet.”
“I will have an answer,” she said through her teeth.
Zach ignored her, eyes on the knife throwing booth. Bertram the Beastly had picked up a blade and was testing the weight for the benefit of those with him and a few others who had now stopped to watch. He ran his finger along the blade and cut himself.
“Idiot,” Zach whispered.
Mary pulled a handkerchief out of her reticule. “Would you like me to bandage it, sir?”
Nathan snorted.
“Step back,” Bertram said loudly, waving Mary and her offered handkerchief aside. “I need room.”
“For what?” Adam looked about him. “We are not throwing punches, sir, but knives.”
“Good boy,” Zach said as pride swelled inside him for the way Adam was handling himself.
Bertram leaned into him, baring his teeth.
“Is that the toffee?” Mary pointed to his mouth. “I see you have a piece right there. It’s devilishly chewy.”
Abby was giggling, and Nathan snort-laughing. Zach felt his lips pull into a smile. The woman had a smart mouth.
“I do not have toffee in my teeth!”
“Is it perhaps the fudge then?” Mary asked sweetly.
