and Ash faced them.
Stan clapped the boy on the shoulder. “I gave you my word you would be in no danger. I am pleased you did not run.”
“No need to run, sir.” The boy lifted his chin. “What would you like to know, my lords?”
Ash went first. “Did she bribe you?”
“No, my lord.”
“So you choose not to reveal her identity?”
“Yes, my lord.” The boy smiled as if he cared not whether his answer displeased his audience.
Harcourt elbowed the witness. “A kiss is as good as a bribe, you know.”
The boy stiffened. It took North a moment to understand what that meant.
Damn it! What kind of a lady was she to go about kissing boys?
He took a deep breath and considered his emotions. Was there a chance the woman had done the deed in hopes of tormenting him? He pictured her in his mind, sitting at a delicate writing desk, the end of a red quill caught between her teeth and her bottom lip while she wondered how best to vex Mr. Lott.
Of course she had planned it. No doubt in his mind. And with his emotions back in check, he dared speak.
“I assume she kissed you then?”
The boy’s chin held steady and high, as did his blush. “She did, my lord. But it was only to thank me.”
“For?” Ash’s voice was controlled as always.
“For agreeing not to rat her out, my lord.” The boy’s eyes darted to Ash, then away again.
“But you have already ratted her out, have you not?” Ash’s voice was smooth, hypnotic.
The boy laughed and a hand, free of bindings, worked its way out of the blanket to shake a finger at Ashmoore. “Oh, no, my lord. You may be clever, but she is doubly so.”
“And she is...?”
“The Scarlet Plumiere, my lord.”
“The daughter of...?”
“Her father, I would think, my lord.” The boy was unable to stifle his grin for long.
“Clever lad.” Ashmoore shrugged and leaned back.
North could stand it no longer.
“Look here. Did she ask you to keep secret the fact that she is beautiful...or not?”
The boy considered, then nodded. “She is beautiful, my lord. I will give you that.”
Ash shook his head. “I would not put much trust in that. He has been kissed by her.”
“I beg your pardon, my lords, but I thought her most beautiful before she kissed me, or spoke to me, or told her man not to harm me.”
Harcourt nodded. “I believe him.”
The boy seemed pleased by it.
North tried to hide just how pleased he was. It was a wonder he did not jump out of his seat and knock himself unconscious on the low ceiling. He distracted himself by thinking of something else to lure the lad out.
“Ashmoore here bet the gentlewoman would be a blonde. My guess was a brunette.”
The lad looked at the dark earl and swallowed. He lowered his chin a bit, but his words remained bold.
“I have forgotten the lady’s hair, my lords.”
Harcourt laughed. North forged on, no longer trying to hide his enthusiasm. The boy was too clever by half.
“Unmarried?”
“Last I heard, sir.”
“What of her height, then? You can tell us if she is short or tall, surely.”
“Who is to say how tall is tall?” The boy winked, damn him.
“Did she have to rise up to kiss you? Or bend down?”
“Neither.”
“So she is of a height with you, then?”
“Yes, my lord.” The boy’s grin widened while North looked him over.
Damn! His teeth clenched, but he managed to speak through them. “I do not suppose you would like to step out of the carriage.”
“Aw, no my lord. I have taken a chill, I have. And Lord Winters here did promise me a carriage ride home.”
Half an hour later, the Four Kings sat ‘round a table playing Whist. They had lost a battle, that was all. They had yet to lose the war.
It was not the tête-à-tête in the carriage that disturbed North. It was the boy’s parting words, given sincerely.
“ Give up the game, Lord Northwick. Please. For her.”
So, The Scarlet Plumiere would be in danger if he found her out? Was it just an impression she
Stan clapped the boy on the shoulder. “I gave you my word you would be in no danger. I am pleased you did not run.”
“No need to run, sir.” The boy lifted his chin. “What would you like to know, my lords?”
Ash went first. “Did she bribe you?”
“No, my lord.”
“So you choose not to reveal her identity?”
“Yes, my lord.” The boy smiled as if he cared not whether his answer displeased his audience.
Harcourt elbowed the witness. “A kiss is as good as a bribe, you know.”
The boy stiffened. It took North a moment to understand what that meant.
Damn it! What kind of a lady was she to go about kissing boys?
He took a deep breath and considered his emotions. Was there a chance the woman had done the deed in hopes of tormenting him? He pictured her in his mind, sitting at a delicate writing desk, the end of a red quill caught between her teeth and her bottom lip while she wondered how best to vex Mr. Lott.
Of course she had planned it. No doubt in his mind. And with his emotions back in check, he dared speak.
“I assume she kissed you then?”
The boy’s chin held steady and high, as did his blush. “She did, my lord. But it was only to thank me.”
“For?” Ash’s voice was controlled as always.
“For agreeing not to rat her out, my lord.” The boy’s eyes darted to Ash, then away again.
“But you have already ratted her out, have you not?” Ash’s voice was smooth, hypnotic.
The boy laughed and a hand, free of bindings, worked its way out of the blanket to shake a finger at Ashmoore. “Oh, no, my lord. You may be clever, but she is doubly so.”
“And she is...?”
“The Scarlet Plumiere, my lord.”
“The daughter of...?”
“Her father, I would think, my lord.” The boy was unable to stifle his grin for long.
“Clever lad.” Ashmoore shrugged and leaned back.
North could stand it no longer.
“Look here. Did she ask you to keep secret the fact that she is beautiful...or not?”
The boy considered, then nodded. “She is beautiful, my lord. I will give you that.”
Ash shook his head. “I would not put much trust in that. He has been kissed by her.”
“I beg your pardon, my lords, but I thought her most beautiful before she kissed me, or spoke to me, or told her man not to harm me.”
Harcourt nodded. “I believe him.”
The boy seemed pleased by it.
North tried to hide just how pleased he was. It was a wonder he did not jump out of his seat and knock himself unconscious on the low ceiling. He distracted himself by thinking of something else to lure the lad out.
“Ashmoore here bet the gentlewoman would be a blonde. My guess was a brunette.”
The lad looked at the dark earl and swallowed. He lowered his chin a bit, but his words remained bold.
“I have forgotten the lady’s hair, my lords.”
Harcourt laughed. North forged on, no longer trying to hide his enthusiasm. The boy was too clever by half.
“Unmarried?”
“Last I heard, sir.”
“What of her height, then? You can tell us if she is short or tall, surely.”
“Who is to say how tall is tall?” The boy winked, damn him.
“Did she have to rise up to kiss you? Or bend down?”
“Neither.”
“So she is of a height with you, then?”
“Yes, my lord.” The boy’s grin widened while North looked him over.
Damn! His teeth clenched, but he managed to speak through them. “I do not suppose you would like to step out of the carriage.”
“Aw, no my lord. I have taken a chill, I have. And Lord Winters here did promise me a carriage ride home.”
Half an hour later, the Four Kings sat ‘round a table playing Whist. They had lost a battle, that was all. They had yet to lose the war.
It was not the tête-à-tête in the carriage that disturbed North. It was the boy’s parting words, given sincerely.
“ Give up the game, Lord Northwick. Please. For her.”
So, The Scarlet Plumiere would be in danger if he found her out? Was it just an impression she
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