“That man is ridiculous.” Ellen sighed. “Flora said he was such a wonderful husband before she became pregnant, and now she constantly wants to slap him because of his fussing.”
“Surely he is allowed to worry? After all, it is his child too,” Ambrose protested. “He cares for her, and…” His words fell away as Ellen stopped directly in front of him, thereby blocking his path.
“Women have been giving birth since the beginning of time, Ambrose. Not men.”
He thought he should nod, and he did so, twice.
“They know what their bodies are capable of while carrying a child.”
Another nod.
“While support is welcome, flapping about like a mother hen and watching a woman’s every move is not. So when the time comes that you are blessed with a wife who is carrying your child, remember my words, Ambrose.”
He dared not acknowledge Alex, who stood behind his sister with crossed eyes.
“I understand, Ellen,” Ambrose said solemnly.
His eyes then found Tilly, who was running around in circles with Lottie, Bram and Iris’s daughter. Would she one day be swollen with a child in her belly? The thought made him feel odd inside.
“Right, then, I believe there are to be new rules,” Mungo said. He was holding his wife Eliza’s hand. It was a strange thing to see because it softened the fierce Scotsman, even though he was still scowling.
Around the close, trestle tables were being set up with things they would be forced to consume, read, or do.
“Must I participate?” Ambrose said.
“You sound like Lottie when she’s weary,” Bram said.
“Whiny, do you mean?” Violet asked, overhearing. “He excels at that particular tone.”
Bram smiled at her. “Exactly that.”
Ambrose lunged at her, but she danced back out of his reach.
A loud throat-clearing had them all moving to therotunda. Inside it was Mr. Greedy, who apparently had the loudest voice.
“We have a new rule for these games. You will be tied to each other, and as you collect a team member, they will then be joined by the wrist also,” Mr. Greedy was saying.
“What madness is this?” Ambrose muttered.
“The full Tibullus’s quote is‘What madness is this, inviting sable Death by warfare? It always hovers close and comes unforeseen on silent steps.’It is about the irrationality of risking one’s life in war for wealth,” Mr. Peaky said as he passed. “Have no fear, as we are about to do neither and only have fun, my lord.”
Ambrose had been well-educated and was a member of the nobility. These people had a way of leveling him. They cared nothing for titles, nor did they respect his long lineage. They were better educated than many, and a man who was stoop-shouldered and dressed in layers of knitted clothing had just quoted Tibullus to him.
It was as if he’d stepped into some kind of odd universe when he came here.
“Your mouth is open.”
He looked at the woman approaching and felt that pull of something deep inside him. Almost a desperation that had only increased since that kiss they’d shared.
“Aren’t you constantly shocked or in awe when you are around these people?” Ambrose asked her.
Tilly turned on her heel in a full circle, the hem of her sable-hued coat opening to show him a flash of her cream skirts.
“They are wonderful,” she said with a smile that made her face come alive. “But of course, for someone with your pristine bloodline, who is buttoned up tight, it cannot be easy.”
“That’s an insult I refute wholeheartedly. Since the Nightingales have entered my life, I have done manyunbuttoned things. I’ll add to that and remind you your birth is not a great deal different to mine, surely, madam?”
The smile slipped, and something dimmed in her eyes, then it was gone.
