The cynic in him couldn’t help thinking she was toying with himagain, and all those seemingly friendly conversations were a ruse to disguise the fact she was using the time to dig up as much dirt about this place as she could to reinforce her inevitable refusal.
“Thanks for kissing me dice, darlin’!” Before Gal could stop it, the docker grabbed her and spun her in a circle. “I knew you’d bring me good luck!”
“You are very welcome.” Rather than being outraged at being manhandled by a stranger, Venus laughed at the fellow, not the least bit offended by his exuberance as Gal grabbed the upstart’s arm. “I am glad I could be of service, Jonas.”
As her feet returned to the floorboards and Gal gaped in shock, over-familiar Jonas grabbed a handful of those winnings and offered them to her. “For your orphans, miss, and God bless ya. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too.” As if she talked to tipsy revelers in a tavern all the time, she dropped the coins in her silly little reticule then sailed toward the door with her arm around Tommy, leaving Gal to trail behind.
“Oi! Tommy!” Muldoon hollered from the doorway as Gal was about to help her into the carriage. “A word, if you please, young man.” His manager waved the boy back inside and the door slowly closed behind him, leaving him all alone with Venus.
“So…” At least with Tommy out of earshot he could argue against her petty refusal to allow the boys to work here for him at the docks. It would be an argument that would fall on deaf ears, of course, but one he was determined to have regardless. “Did The Den fail the test?” He steeled his shoulders to prepare for the overprotective and still-aggrieved schoolmistress to return with a vengeance for the set-down.
“It didn’t.”
“Now look here, Venus, I know my place can get a bit rowdy but a den of iniquity it ain’t and…” His voice trailed off when her words finally permeated his thick skull and she smiled—begrudgingly.
“Contrary to what you might think, and irrespective of our personal differences, I have never been either an unreasonable person or a prude, Galahad. I grew up in Clerkenwell, about as close to the gutter as I would like to ever venture, so I shall admit that my opinions about your rowdy tavern might have been influenced by my experiences there. I was expecting one of the base and debauched gin-soaked establishments my sisters and I frequently had to pour our inebriated father out of, but this…” She flicked her hand toward the building. “… is nothing like that. You do run a clean house, albeit a pleasantly rowdy one, but it’s obvious your patrons respect the rules that you and Mr. Muldoon have set for them.” She glanced back toward the door with a smile. “I am in no doubt your hefty but charming sidekick would have no trouble swiftly evicting those that fail to meet your standards.”
“Muldoon used to box in the merchant navy.”
“So he told me.” Her smile this time was wistful. “The Claypoles will do well here. Tommy especially, I suspect, as he has the sort of mind that needs plenty to occupy it and has never excelled at the sort of quiet, contemplative repetition that a usual apprenticeship requires. Billy will, too—when he turns twelve next year—but in the meantime I think it would do him good to continue working a couple of hours for you every day to give him something to aspire to while he learns his letters with me.” She fiddled with her gloves. “I noticed you have a way with him.”
“He’s a good kid… deep down. It’s his hard life that’s taught him to keep the truth about himself hidden.”
She nodded, her expression thoughtful as she assessed him. “I suppose we are all shaped by our history, aren’t we?” For a moment, it felt as though she were staring straight into his soul—his history—rather than contemplating Billy’s.
A lonely snowflake fluttered between them. They watched its journey to the ground where it instantly melted, then as if joined by some invisible bond their chins lifted to scout the sky for more. It was the same exact shade of purple as it had been that fateful night in Brighton,dragging Gal straight back there. Even the full moon was identical, although it was the sound of Old Father Thames, rather than the waves of the English Channel, that lapped against the wharf side.
Another fat flake fell and caught in a stray curl poking out of her bonnet. Captivated by that as well as her, and thoroughly caught up in the odd but undoubtedly significant moment, Gal reached up to brush it away. Of its own accord his fingertip trailed along the perfect curve of her cheek. Her beautiful blue eyes locked with his, wide and uncertain; so much conflicting emotion swirled within them, he could barely stand it. “Venus, I…”
Gal snatched his errant hand away and fisted it behind his back as Tommy slammed out the door, thankfully before he said or did something reckless and stupid again like his heart wanted.
“If it settles, can we have another snowball match tomorrow, Miss Merriwell? We’ve got no lessons on Christmas Eve.”
Her answering smile was brittle. Perhaps wavering?
Without thinking, she instinctively moved her fingers to her locket. “Yes. Of course. I don’t see why not.” And because she was flustered, she ushered the boy into the hackney. “Come on… it’s late. Past your bedtime, and Mrs. Witherspoon will be worried.”
Before she threw herself in behind him, Gal grabbed her hand and she stared at where their fingers joined as if she, too, felt the magnetic pull between them as he helped her up. He let go with reluctance but still couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Good night, Venus.”
“Good night, Galahad.” Hers watched his, perplexed, until the carriage lurched away.
“Did your place pass muster?”
It startled Gal that Muldoon had stepped outside without him noticing. “It did… miraculously.”
“And did you? Or are you and your troublesomeVenusstill doing the dainty dance of courtship?”
He chuckled at Muldoon’s loaded look and suggestively wigglingeyebrows rather than deny it. “As if I have the time for any of that nonsense.”
“A man cannot survive on bread alone, and—” Muldoon’s bushy black eyebrows waggled some more. “—if I were you, I’d make the time as she looks like a tasty loaf. Too good for you, of course, but there’s no accounting for taste, although what she sees in you is a mystery to be sure.”
“Venus doesn’t see anything in me…”
“For a woman who doesn’t, she asked a lot of questions, and she certainly just looked at you like a woman who does.” Muldoon winked while Gal’s silly heart soared. “I know you too well not to recognize that you are equally as smitten.”
Gal scoffed at that even though he knew it was true. “I don’t have the time to be smitten. Or did you forget I’m opening a second, bigger, place in the city?” He wafted his hand downriver. “Or that I’m knee-deep in building works and plans for the foreseeable future. I’m finally building my dream, Muldoon, and nothing—and certainly no woman—is going to distract me…” Gal’s second denial was cut short by a meaty Irish boxer’s palm in front of his face.
