“And yet we are a man down and still holding our own!” Gabe called back.
The inference being that Monty was less than a man. Gripping the rope, he gave a hard tug and then squeaked for authenticity.
“Plunge is going to expire!” someone called out, which had loud laughter following.
“The Devilles must have taken pity on him to put him in their team!”
He ignored the taunts, more than used to them.
“You will not lose!” the Duchess of Raven called.
“Yes, thank you for the support, my love!” her husband, the duke, replied.
“On three,” Nathan growled.
“What on three?” Monty called in his most feeble Plunge voice.
“We pull.”
“I thought we were?”
“Well, pull harder, Plunge!” Zach roared.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
“Iwill not tell them this, you understand,” Freya said. “But it really is a wonderful sight. Look at those arm muscles,” she whispered.
“Oh my.” Dimity fanned herself with the large leaf Walter had picked up in his mouth from somewhere and spat at her feet. “I feel all aflutter.”
Ruby snorted. “You’ve never been all aflutter a day in your life. But you ladies will excuse me. I will check on Ella and Henry so Iris can stay and enjoy herself.”
“Oh no, really, I can go,” Iris protested.
“Stay,” Ruby said. “I will just check and be back.”
“Very well, thank you, Ruby.”
“My husband still makes my heart beat just a little harder even after all these years of marriage,” the Duchess of Raven said, her eyes on the men like all the other guests.
“Dear lord, did Plunge just tear a seam under his arm? I’m sure he shrieked.”
Iris looked at Theo. His feet were forward, and all his weight was leaning back. The look on his face was one of horror. But she was sure he was pulling hard and trying not to show it. The Devilles were yelling orders at him, and he whimpered after every one.
Iris looked around her. Had no one but she noticed he was not what he seemed.
Mary caught her eye and smiled. Was there a deeper meaning to that smile, or was it just… a smile?
“Pull!” Dimity shrieked.
“Harder!” The Duchess of Raven joined her as their men battled each other.
“We’re trying, my love!” the Duke said.
“I will not have you losing to a Deville, Hetherington, or those others,” the duchess added.
“I thought you liked us?” Alexander Hetherington called.
“Of course she doesn’t!” Cambridge Sinclair gritted out. “My sister just knows how to pretend!”
