“How could you have seen it, Polly? You were standing right there.”
“I’ve got good eyes.”
“Not that good.” He turned away and began filling the tankard.
Polly looked at her sympathetically. “They was just having a bit o’ fun.”
“But it’s not any fun at all, is it?” She was certain Polly of the ample cleavage had endured her share of being dragged onto laps. Although she might not have minded. She was forever laughing and flirting with the chaps, seeming to have a grand time doing something that Althea disliked with every fiber of her being.
She was disappointed to see the large fellow she’d only just served leaning down to say something to the cackling Jimmy. Probably wanted to ask what her bottom felt like. But then Jimmy abruptly stopped laughing. She’d heard of people turning as white as a ghost but had never seen anyone actually do it. Until now. Jimmy looked as though the man had effectively and quickly leeched all the blood from his veins.
“Jimmy won’t be touching you no more,” Polly said with a bit of triumph, “now that Beast has had a quiet word with him.”
“Beast?”
Polly looked surprised but nodded. “Yeah. The big bloke.”
The big bloke who didn’t even look back as he strode out through the door. She wondered how he’d come to have that moniker because to her eye he was anything but beastly.Devilwould have served him better as he was devilishly handsome, his features strong and bold.
“Who is he when he’s at home?” Althea asked.
Polly gave her a pointed look. “Someone you don’t want to cross if you know what’s good for you.”
Althea rather wished she’d had that bit of advice before she’d had her previous encounter with him. She was relatively certain he hadn’t been happy about her response to his question, so she doubted whatever had caused Jimmy to blanch had anything to do with her. Perhaps he owed the man money.
Mac placed the tankard on the counter. “Polly, why don’t you take Jimmy his brew?”
“Would be better if Althea did.”
She’d wanted to kiss Mac when he’d passed the task off to Polly, wanted to scowl at Polly for refusing, but knew it was unfair for the other barmaid to have to take on her chores. After picking up the tankard, she edged her way between the tables until she reached Jimmy’s. He and his mates were staring at the surface as though they’d never seen wood before and were striving to decipher how it had come to be. Without uttering a word, she set down the tankard.
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy blurted.
“I beg your pardon?”
With eyes big, wide, and fearful, he looked up at her. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t ’ave done it. Won’t do it again.”
She tried not to let her surprise show. “I very much appreciate that and your apology.”
“You’ll tell Beast, right, the next time ’e comes in, right, you’ll tell ’im I said I was sorry, a’right. Don’t need me fingers broke.” His words tumbled out, one after another, no breath or pause between.
She suspected she had no success at all hiding her astonishment this time. He’d threatened to break the man’s fingers? His chums were still not looking at her, had hunched their shoulders in an attempt to make themselves smaller, possibly hoping to avoid her scrutiny. “Yes, I’ll let him know.”
“Jolly good.” Taking the tankard, he began gulping the contents.
She wasn’t certain she blamed him. Nor was she certain why the stranger had stood up for her, but couldn’t deny taking a great deal of pleasure in his efforts at being her champion. It had been far too long since anyone, other than her brothers, had taken a stand to defend her.
She made her way to the large gent’s table to retrieve his empty glass. When she reached it, she saw the sovereign resting there. Picking up the glass, she started to walk away.
“That’s for you.”
She glanced back at Rob, who was wiping down a nearby table. Usually, the tall, slender young man collected everything off the tables and gave them a thorough wiping down, but since the customer hadn’t been there long enough to make a mess, she’d thought to spare him the trouble. “I’m certain he meant it for you, for cleaning up after him.” A more than generous donation for the service.
He walked over to her. “He gave me mine, said that one was for you.”
“He gave us each a sovereign?” The coin’s value of a pound was double the ten shillings—if she didn’t subtract the upended beer—she normally earned for the six days she worked in a week.
The young man shrugged, the brown locks covering his forehead falling into his eyes. “Like all Trewloves, he’s probably as rich as Croesus.”
