imperative. As much as I wanted to, well hell
Nash, I'm a loyal subject; I love our country and will do anything to keep it
and us out of the Corsican’s and his followers’ clutches, I resented it at
times. I still do. Somehow, over these last few months I know the price asked became
too high even for me. Thankfully, you and Felicity helped me there, but there
are so many loose ends, it reminds me of the shawl Cecy tried to tat when she
was away at school. You remember, the one with so many holes and strands it
unraveled as fast as she knotted?"
Nash slapped Perry on the shoulder.
"Do I ever, she gave it to me when I went to Eton, and demanded I take it
with me for comfort. Papa took pity on me and secreted it somewhere so as not
to hurt her feelings. Anyway, that's nothing to do with this moment. I intended
to say, what can I help you with, but realized what a stupid question that
was."
"Not so stupid, you can be
my memory. Never mind the twaddle about waiting for me to ask questions. I have
the itch, and I well remember what that means. I don't think we have the luxury
of waiting."
Nash sat up straighter and set
his glass down on the table. "I remember the itch. Abe told me you both experienced
it before this latest fiasco. You still have it?"
"Unfortunately. Nash, I
don't think there's much I don't remember, not really. No doubt there will be
bits and bobs, but let's hope they're insignificant and not relevant to our present
situation."
"Well then let's get
stirring and sort all this out, because I have a lady I want to spend time
with, as do you."
"I have a lady I want to wed,"
Perry said and held his hand up." Yes, I concede it will need to be no
hole in the wall affair, above board, seen by all, and a crush with people
vying for invitations. However, you dear brother in the absence of Harold will
be my only groomsman. Randall will support Maggie." Nash rolled his eyes
and groaned. Perry raised one elegant eyebrow. "Touché?"
"I suppose so."
"And I suppose you have both been so busy
catching up you have forgotten to clear some space?" Unheard to either man,
Maggie and Felicity reentered the room, and stood both with arms akimbo staring
at them.
Nash felt his lips twitch: they
looked like viragos or avenging furies, except Felicity carried a flagon and
Maggie four glasses.
"I see we need not have
bothered, you've served yourselves." Maggie dropped two of the glasses
onto the cushion of a chair, passed the other two to Felicity, and swept a pile
of papers onto the floor.
Neither Perry nor Nash went to
stop her. Perry remembered Maggie in full flow wasn't to be messed with and it
seemed Nash also accepted that.
Felicity meanwhile filled the two
glasses with the liquid in the flagon, and passed one to Maggie. She then sat
hers down on the cleared space of the table. Without saying a word, she went to
the escritoire situated near the window, and took paper, ink and two quills from
in it. Still in silence she returned to the table, dipped one quill into the
ink pot and began to write.
Maggie stared at both men, but
didn't speak. She sat next to Felicity, and sipped her wine, occasionally pointing
at something Felicity wrote down.
Perry glanced at Nash who raised
one eyebrow and rolled his glass between his fingers. Neither spoke.
The scratching of the quill began to grate on Perry's
nerves. He took a quick look at Nash who tapped his fingers on his leg.
Evidently he was similarly affected. Perry pressed his nails into his hands;
there was no way he would comment.
"So are we in the
doghouse?" Nash asked after several minutes. "Deigned to be thrown a
bone when you think fit. Because I can tell you now, we were talking to ensure
your safety."
Felicity put down her quill. "Good,
because so were also we, about yours that is. Though I fail to see how, as a
man, you cannot complete more than one task at once. Clear the table as asked
and talk at the same time. We have washed up the dishes, tidied up and
Nash, I'm a loyal subject; I love our country and will do anything to keep it
and us out of the Corsican’s and his followers’ clutches, I resented it at
times. I still do. Somehow, over these last few months I know the price asked became
too high even for me. Thankfully, you and Felicity helped me there, but there
are so many loose ends, it reminds me of the shawl Cecy tried to tat when she
was away at school. You remember, the one with so many holes and strands it
unraveled as fast as she knotted?"
Nash slapped Perry on the shoulder.
"Do I ever, she gave it to me when I went to Eton, and demanded I take it
with me for comfort. Papa took pity on me and secreted it somewhere so as not
to hurt her feelings. Anyway, that's nothing to do with this moment. I intended
to say, what can I help you with, but realized what a stupid question that
was."
"Not so stupid, you can be
my memory. Never mind the twaddle about waiting for me to ask questions. I have
the itch, and I well remember what that means. I don't think we have the luxury
of waiting."
Nash sat up straighter and set
his glass down on the table. "I remember the itch. Abe told me you both experienced
it before this latest fiasco. You still have it?"
"Unfortunately. Nash, I
don't think there's much I don't remember, not really. No doubt there will be
bits and bobs, but let's hope they're insignificant and not relevant to our present
situation."
"Well then let's get
stirring and sort all this out, because I have a lady I want to spend time
with, as do you."
"I have a lady I want to wed,"
Perry said and held his hand up." Yes, I concede it will need to be no
hole in the wall affair, above board, seen by all, and a crush with people
vying for invitations. However, you dear brother in the absence of Harold will
be my only groomsman. Randall will support Maggie." Nash rolled his eyes
and groaned. Perry raised one elegant eyebrow. "Touché?"
"I suppose so."
"And I suppose you have both been so busy
catching up you have forgotten to clear some space?" Unheard to either man,
Maggie and Felicity reentered the room, and stood both with arms akimbo staring
at them.
Nash felt his lips twitch: they
looked like viragos or avenging furies, except Felicity carried a flagon and
Maggie four glasses.
"I see we need not have
bothered, you've served yourselves." Maggie dropped two of the glasses
onto the cushion of a chair, passed the other two to Felicity, and swept a pile
of papers onto the floor.
Neither Perry nor Nash went to
stop her. Perry remembered Maggie in full flow wasn't to be messed with and it
seemed Nash also accepted that.
Felicity meanwhile filled the two
glasses with the liquid in the flagon, and passed one to Maggie. She then sat
hers down on the cleared space of the table. Without saying a word, she went to
the escritoire situated near the window, and took paper, ink and two quills from
in it. Still in silence she returned to the table, dipped one quill into the
ink pot and began to write.
Maggie stared at both men, but
didn't speak. She sat next to Felicity, and sipped her wine, occasionally pointing
at something Felicity wrote down.
Perry glanced at Nash who raised
one eyebrow and rolled his glass between his fingers. Neither spoke.
The scratching of the quill began to grate on Perry's
nerves. He took a quick look at Nash who tapped his fingers on his leg.
Evidently he was similarly affected. Perry pressed his nails into his hands;
there was no way he would comment.
"So are we in the
doghouse?" Nash asked after several minutes. "Deigned to be thrown a
bone when you think fit. Because I can tell you now, we were talking to ensure
your safety."
Felicity put down her quill. "Good,
because so were also we, about yours that is. Though I fail to see how, as a
man, you cannot complete more than one task at once. Clear the table as asked
and talk at the same time. We have washed up the dishes, tidied up and
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