“I’m sorry?”
Galahad nudged the boy with his elbow. “That’s not a phrase you say in front of a lady.” For good measure he nudged Tommy again. “In and out like a fiddler’s elbow would be a more appropriate choice of British colloquialism in front of Miss Merriwell.”
“But it isn’t in and out, is it?” Tommy flicked his finger left and right. “Because the cellar is downstairs, and we have to keep climbing up and down it to load the barrels in it.” The finger flicked north and south this time. “So up and down like a…”
“It wasn’t so much the turn of phrase I took issue with, gentlemen, more the location.” Vee skewered Galahad with her stare, staggered that he had thought this appropriate. “Sydney and Billy are at the docks?”
Galahad shot Tommy another withering glance before he turned to her placating. “Before you hit my new roof, which I can already see you are on the cusp of doing, know that I cleared it with the reverend first.”
“He gave permission for a trio of impressionable young boys to work in your den of iniquity?”
He nodded, folding his arms as if offended. “Hehappilygranted his permission once he’d checked the place out, and the boyslikeworking there.”
Galahad might have been Tommy’s sworn enemy a week ago, but tonight apparently he had switched his allegiance, because he moved to stand next to him in solidarity. “It’s true, Miss Merriwell. We do. In fact…” He nudged his new best friend. “Perhaps now is a good time to ask her, Mr. Sinclair, seeing as the reverend says the final decision is hers?”
In response Galahad glared at the boy as if he couldn’t quite believe what was coming out of his mouth. “You really need to learn to pick your moments, Master Claypole, as I can assure you this really isn’t it.”
Vee folded her own arms and glared at them both. “Ask me what?”
“Mr. Sinclair has offered the three of us apprenticeships!” Tommy could barely contain his joy at that. “And although we’ll be splitting our time between here and The Den to begin with, we all get our own rooms downstairs.” He pointed to the bare floorboards beneath his boots. “In the staff quarters, so I’ll always be right next door to the orphanage in case you or the reverend or Mrs. Witherspoon need me. Isn’t that brilliant?”
“Well… I… um…” It was Vee’s turn to stutter noncommittally now. “I’m not sure that working in The Den would be…”
The muscles in Galahad’s folded arms bunched tight. Enough to make her ponder them inappropriately. “She’s going to say no, Tommy, so brace yourself. A flat-out no because she disapproves of me.”
“Well, I…” She wanted to say no for precisely that reason, and would have said no to Galahad most vociferously if his bulging biceps hadn’t disconcerted her and Tommy Claypole hadn’t stared beseeching.
“Please, Miss Merriwell.” The boy clasped his hands together ready to beg. “Mr. Sinclair thinks I have the potential to do well in the innkeeping trade and I genuinely do love the work…”
“Well, I…” Her gaze wandered to Galahad’s distracting muscles again until she wrenched it away. “I need to think upon it.” If the Reverend Smythe had gone, and he wasn’t alarmed, perhaps… Or was that stretching the benefit of the doubt too far?
“You wouldn’t need to think upon it if you saw it, Miss Merriwell.” Tommy tugged at her sleeve. “At least come and see the place like the reverend did. You could come tonight…”
“Um… well… tonight I have to…” Vee was almost certain the absolute last person she wanted to spend any more time with was Galahad Sinclair, especially now that she knew his biceps were as potent as his kisses, but Tommy’s pleading eyes combined with her burning curiosity to solve the puzzle that was Galahad overruled all her reservations and the words came out before she could stop them. “I suppose that I could come and check out the establishment now.”Good gracious, that sounded much too keen!“If it means that muchto you, Tommy, and isn’t an inconvenience to Mr. Sinclair who likely has better things to be doing, of course.”
Tommy’s expectant eyes swiveled to Galahad’s, which had instantly narrowed at that unexpected offer. “Can she, Mr. Sinclair? You don’t have anything better to be doing, do you?”
“Now?” He seemed horrified at the prospect. “Well… er…”
“Unless now would present a problem and not give you enough time to hide the bulk of the debauchery?” Vee was pleased that the question made her sound less eager.
“We ain’t got nothing to hide, have we?” Tommy tugged at Galahad’s sleeve, forcing her gaze there again—heaven help her—and forcing him to see the hope etched upon the boy’s freckled face. Hope that clearly got to him.
“We don’t. Everything’s all aboveboard.” Two intensely peeved green eyes locked with hers in resignation. “So I guess I’ll go hail us all a hackney.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Statistics from the final ball~
10 invitations to dance. 10 invitations to do improper things to my dance partner’s person on the terrace after the dance was concluded. Another 10 eligible bachelors struck off my list of potential husbands. I think it is fairly safe to say that my first season has been a disaster…
—from the diary of Miss Venus Merriwell, aged 19
Her mouth was drawn in a tight line of disapproval as the hackney wended its way into the docks, as if she genuinely expected to witness Sodom and Gomorrah as soon as they arrived at their destination. She kept a lid on her anger for Tommy’s sake, but Gal could see it brewing behind the intense furrow of her brows and sense it in her distinct lack of conversation. He knew already this visit would be futile when she had made up her mind that he wasn’t fit to have an apprentice.
“That’s The Den—over there, Miss Merriwell.” Tommy pointed to Gal’s building by the waterfront, and while she scrutinized his establishment, he scrutinized her expression for the inevitable disdain he knew she’d display simply because he had the audacity to own it.
After an age, during which her face gave absolutely nothing away, she deigned to speak. “It’s surprisingly well lit, considering the area.”
