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“A token apology for shouting at you this morning,” Lord Vale said. “I was a cad and a blackguard and the worst of husbands.”
A corner of her mouth tilted up. “You weren’t quite that bad.”
He shook his head. “It’s not the thing, to yell like a madman at one’s lady wife, and I won’t do it as a rule, I assure you. At least not after I’ve had my morning tea, in any case.”
She opened the box to find small garnet-drop earrings. “How lovely.”
“You like them?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Across from her, he nodded and leapt to his feet. “Excellent. I’ll bid you a good night, then.”
She felt the brush of his lips against her hair, and then he was at the door. He touched the doorknob and then half turned toward her. “I say, no need to wait up for me tonight.”
She arched an eyebrow.
He grimaced. “That is, I shan’t be coming to your rooms. Too soon after our wedding night, what? I just thought you should know so you wouldn’t be worried. Sleep well, my heart.”
She inclined her head, biting her lip to keep back the tears, but he was already out the door.
Melisande blinked rapidly, then looked back to the little box with the garnet earrings. They were quite lovely, but she never wore earrings. Her ears weren’t pierced. She touched one of the garnets with a fingertip and wondered if he’d ever looked—really looked—at her at all.
She closed the box gently and put it in her embroidery bag. Then she gathered her things and left the room, Mouse trailing behind.
Chapter Five
The second beggar stood, and all his rags fell away, revealing a horrible thing, half beast, half man, and entirely covered with black and rotting scales.
“Damn me, will you?” rasped the demon, for such it obviously was. “I will see you damned in my stead!”
Jack began to shrink, his legs and arms growing shorter, until he stood only the height of a child. At the same time, his nose grew and hooked down until it nearly met his chin, which had elongated and curved up.
The demon roared with laughter and vanished in a sulfurous cloud of smoke. And then Jack stood all alone in the road, the sleeves of his soldier’s uniform trailing in the dust. . . .
—from LAUGHING JACK
“Ah, lovely,” Jasper said over dinner three days later. “Beef and gravy with Yorkshire pudding, the v"9%„ery epitome of an English supper.” Could he sound any more of an ass if he tried?
o;I am a blackguard to leave my lady wife so soon.” Jasper dropped Horn’s hand and stepped back. “But the matter is pressing, I fear.”
“Please. Sit.”
Jasper flicked the skirts of his coat aside and lowered himself into the chair opposite Horn’s desk. “How is your mother?”
Horn cast his eyes to the ceiling as if he could see into his mother’s bedroom in the floor above. “She is bedridden, I fear, but her spirits are bright. I take tea with her every afternoon if I can, and she always wants to know the latest gossip.”
Jasper smiled.
“You mentioned Spinner’s Falls at the Eddings musicale,” Horn said.
“Yes. Do you remember Sam Hartley? Corporal Hartley? He was a Colonial attached to our regiment to guide us to Fort Edward.”
“Yes?”
“He came to London last September.”
“When I was touring Italy.” Horn leaned back in his chair to pull a bell cord. “I’m sorry to’ve missed him.”
