at teasing, you could have stayed back in the States and been rich.”
Shakespeare stiffened in mock indignation and quoted the Bard he was named after. “ ‘O serpent heart, hid with a flowery face. Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?’ ”
“Now, now,” Evelyn chided. “She was only saying.”
“That’s the trouble with females,” Shakespeare grumped. “They are forever using their tongues as rapiers and piercing us poor men to the quick.”
“You men deserve it.”
“Since when? What do we do that you women delight in pricking us so?”
“It’s how you are.”
Shakespeare sniffed and quoted, “ ‘You do unbend your noble strength, to think so brainsickly of things.’ ”
Evelyn laughed. “Is that even a word? Brainsickly? Sometimes I think that William S., as you like to call him, just made up words to suit him.”
Shakespeare’s indignation became genuine. “Why, you upstart. I’ll have you know he was the greatest word-weaver who ever drew breath. He made poetry of the plain and showed the real and the true of all that is.”
“Oh, really?” Evelyn said. “What about that silly play of his with the fairies and Cupid?”
Shakespeare made a sound remarkably similar to a goose being throttled. “Did my ears deceive me, child? Did you just call the Bard silly ?” He quoted again. “ ‘Is there no military policy how virgins might blow up men?’ ”
Evelyn gave a mild start. “What did you just say?”
“That you have besmirched the greatest writer of all time.”
“No. That other thing.”
“Oh. You mean about virgins?” A sly smile curled McNair’s seamed features. “That reminds me. How is the handsome Romeo these days? Rumor has it that the two of you are glued at the elbow.” He chortled merrily and said, “Glued at the elbow! I do make myself laugh, if I say so myself.”
“That will be enough of that.”
“Oh ho?” Shakespeare returned. “The young maiden can dish it out, but she can’t take it?”
“You shouldn’t poke fun at something like that.”
“Like what? Love?”
Evelyn was growing annoyed. She cared for Shakespeare dearly, but he had a knack for getting a rise out of people. “I never said I was in love.”
“You never said you weren’t. Not that anyone would believe you if you did. The proof of the pudding is in the tasting, young one.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
“Meaning if it waddles like a duck and quacks like a duck, it won’t do any good to call it a moose.”
Evelyn put her hands on her hips. “I’ve heard that people your age tend to babble a lot and I reckon it must be true.”
“Here, now,” Shakespeare said. “Pick on anything you want but my years. I have earned these wrinkles honorably.” He glanced behind him and then gazed past her and came closer and lowered his voice. “How are the two of you doing, by the way? Has Horatio said anything about Dega and you?”
“Horatio,” as Evelyn well knew, was Shakespeare’snickname for her father. “What would Pa have to say about what I do? It’s between Dega and me.”
“Does your father mind the two of you being together? Sometimes parents take exception.”
“I don’t see how he could,” Evelyn said. “So what if I’m white and Dega is an Indian? Pa married a Shoshone, after all.”
“That wasn’t what I was talking about,” Shakespeare clarified. “Land sakes, girl, I married a sassy red wench myself.”
“Oh, Uncle Shakespeare.”
“Don’t ‘Uncle Shakespeare’ me. I will call my wife that to her face and she will be flattered.”
“So Blue Water Woman is a wench, is she?”
“All women are. Some hide it better than others, but deep down all women want the same thing.”
“And what would that be?”
Shakespeare started to say something and caught himself. Instead he smiled and said, “They want a heart to entwine with their own.”
Evelyn thought of Dega and her chest grew warm. “Even if that’s true, I’m still not
Shakespeare stiffened in mock indignation and quoted the Bard he was named after. “ ‘O serpent heart, hid with a flowery face. Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?’ ”
“Now, now,” Evelyn chided. “She was only saying.”
“That’s the trouble with females,” Shakespeare grumped. “They are forever using their tongues as rapiers and piercing us poor men to the quick.”
“You men deserve it.”
“Since when? What do we do that you women delight in pricking us so?”
“It’s how you are.”
Shakespeare sniffed and quoted, “ ‘You do unbend your noble strength, to think so brainsickly of things.’ ”
Evelyn laughed. “Is that even a word? Brainsickly? Sometimes I think that William S., as you like to call him, just made up words to suit him.”
Shakespeare’s indignation became genuine. “Why, you upstart. I’ll have you know he was the greatest word-weaver who ever drew breath. He made poetry of the plain and showed the real and the true of all that is.”
“Oh, really?” Evelyn said. “What about that silly play of his with the fairies and Cupid?”
Shakespeare made a sound remarkably similar to a goose being throttled. “Did my ears deceive me, child? Did you just call the Bard silly ?” He quoted again. “ ‘Is there no military policy how virgins might blow up men?’ ”
Evelyn gave a mild start. “What did you just say?”
“That you have besmirched the greatest writer of all time.”
“No. That other thing.”
“Oh. You mean about virgins?” A sly smile curled McNair’s seamed features. “That reminds me. How is the handsome Romeo these days? Rumor has it that the two of you are glued at the elbow.” He chortled merrily and said, “Glued at the elbow! I do make myself laugh, if I say so myself.”
“That will be enough of that.”
“Oh ho?” Shakespeare returned. “The young maiden can dish it out, but she can’t take it?”
“You shouldn’t poke fun at something like that.”
“Like what? Love?”
Evelyn was growing annoyed. She cared for Shakespeare dearly, but he had a knack for getting a rise out of people. “I never said I was in love.”
“You never said you weren’t. Not that anyone would believe you if you did. The proof of the pudding is in the tasting, young one.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
“Meaning if it waddles like a duck and quacks like a duck, it won’t do any good to call it a moose.”
Evelyn put her hands on her hips. “I’ve heard that people your age tend to babble a lot and I reckon it must be true.”
“Here, now,” Shakespeare said. “Pick on anything you want but my years. I have earned these wrinkles honorably.” He glanced behind him and then gazed past her and came closer and lowered his voice. “How are the two of you doing, by the way? Has Horatio said anything about Dega and you?”
“Horatio,” as Evelyn well knew, was Shakespeare’snickname for her father. “What would Pa have to say about what I do? It’s between Dega and me.”
“Does your father mind the two of you being together? Sometimes parents take exception.”
“I don’t see how he could,” Evelyn said. “So what if I’m white and Dega is an Indian? Pa married a Shoshone, after all.”
“That wasn’t what I was talking about,” Shakespeare clarified. “Land sakes, girl, I married a sassy red wench myself.”
“Oh, Uncle Shakespeare.”
“Don’t ‘Uncle Shakespeare’ me. I will call my wife that to her face and she will be flattered.”
“So Blue Water Woman is a wench, is she?”
“All women are. Some hide it better than others, but deep down all women want the same thing.”
“And what would that be?”
Shakespeare started to say something and caught himself. Instead he smiled and said, “They want a heart to entwine with their own.”
Evelyn thought of Dega and her chest grew warm. “Even if that’s true, I’m still not
Similar Books
