“La, I can do that! I am imminently sensible,” Monty cried. “You are all paying for this later,” he said under his breath.
“There are more of us than you,” Nathan whispered back. “No threat will hold any weight.”
A loud woof announced Walter’s appearance. With him was Oscar. Clearly, they had come to watch his humiliation.
“Hello, Walter. Are you coming to offer Prissy Plunge some support?” Nathan said.
“Bite,” Monty said. To his surprise, Oscar nudged Nathan hard in the leg, sending him back a step.
“Good boy.” Monty patted his head.
“Sorry, he was with Henry,” Iris said, arriving. “I’ll get him out of your way.”
“Quite all right, my lady,” he said in his best Plunge voice.
She frowned, her eyes narrowing.
“What?”
“I can’t work you out,” she whispered.
“I am, of course, exactly as you see.” He held out a hand theatrically.
“Well, there is a long line of people you’d need to join to understand him,” Nathan said.
“Go back to your place, my dear lady, and watch as the men compete,” Monty said, struggling to speak as Plunge and not himself. He’d shown her his different side, and he’d also kissed her. It was hardly surprising she was confused.
She gave him a hard look and then, with a click of her fingers, turned away with Oscar and Walter on her heels. “Let’s leave these silly men to their games,” he heard her say.
“Harsh but true,” Nathan said. “I do not know Lady Challoner well but have to say that she seems nice. How long has it been since you saw each other?”
“Many years. I was but thirteen.” Monty kept his eyes on her. The sway of her skirts and perfectly straight back.
“Tomorrow night, Monty.” Nathan leaned in to say the words. “We will arrive after dark. Ensure there is lots of food.”
“I live to serve you.” Monty bowed.
The men picked up the rope. Monty had no wish to be tied to anything, even though Nathan had tried, and simply wrapped it around his waist.
“I just cannot see this going well for Plunge,” he heard someone say.
“On your marks,” the Duchess of Yardly cackled. “Pull!”
Monty couldn’t just stand there looking pathetic. He had to at least try. Pull without it looking like he was doing a great deal.
“Oh dear!” he cried. “My gloves will be quite ruined!”
“Shut up and pull, Plunge!” Michael Deville roared at him.
He spread his legs and tried to hold as much weight as he could while looking pathetic and terrified. It was no easy feat. The tug-of-war raged on, with sides drawn by guests. They cheered, and every time he looked at Iris, she was watching him with a frown on her face.
“I will be ravenous after this!” Cambridge Sinclair roared.
“As if you need a reason!” his brother Devonshire Sinclair replied.
Before him, the men strained to gain ascendancy.
“I had thought you Devilles were strong. Clearly, I was misinformed!” Captain Wolf Sinclair gritted out.
