Page 54 of Snapdragons
With a tight sigh, Digby said, “Yes, there is.”
He almost never spoke of his family, but the Gents had filled in a great many blanks. All of Society knew Digby’s parents had hated each other. It was also general knowledge that the in-fighting in the broader Layton family made the Capulets and Montagues look like the friendliest of neighbors. What no one seemed to know was how it had all begun or the details of what it looked like among them now. The only thing the Gents knew for certain was that Digby’s mother was dead, his father was not, and Digby permitted very few questions about any of it.
“Tell us what would be most helpful in here, Puppy,” Aldric said. “We can begin the work of finding all the things you need.”
That was their General: quick to get back to the task at hand, always ready to strategize their next endeavor.
“Sacks of grain.” Niles had often used those for practicing delivering punches at force. “Fabric strips.” He mimed wrapping his knuckles in the fabric. “Chalk to mark off the size of the ring on the floor.”
“Heavy things to lift,” Aldric added. “That’ll build your fortitude, add a few muscles to your scraggly frame.”
“I haven’t fought in a true bout in some time,” Niles acknowledged, “but I’m not a dandyprat, by any means.”
Lucas swung a lobbing fist in Niles’s direction, the sort never intended to actually land. “I’m afraid you’ll have to prove that to us, Puppy.”
Niles took up the pretend sparring. “I’ve blackened your eye in the past. All of your eyes.”
“I only have two, you dunderhead.” Lucas swung again.
“I meant allthe Gents’eyes, muck brains.”
“No, no, no.” Kes shook his head. “Digbyis muck brains. Lucas is stupid head. Henri is, of course, most reverend sir.”
That set them all to snickering. Henri’s moniker was, after all, Archbishop.
“Best decide what we mean to call Violet and Miss Seymour,” Digby said from one of the windows. “Both ladies will be here in a moment.”
Pugilistic matches were fought not only bare-knuckled but also bare-chested. Thank the heavens they hadn’t trekked that far down the practice path yet.
Just as Digby had said, Violet and Penelope arrived in the doorway a mere moment later. When Niles had begun thinking of her as Penelope, he wasn’t certain. But it somehow fit her so much better than the more staid and sedate Miss Seymour.
“We were told we would find you here,” Violet said.
“Who’s whispering our secrets about?” Digby said with mock offense.
“We’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Penelope declared. “Torture us if you must; we’ll never reveal our source.”
The Gents looked at each other and, in unison, said, “Wilson.”
“Wilson? Wilson who?” Violet said innocently.Tooinnocently.
“Never heard of anyone by that name,” Penelope added. She was somehow even more gorgeous when laughter filled her intoxicating brown eyes. They twinkled when she was enjoying herself; he’d noticed that time and again since meeting her.
“So, why did you seek directions from this unnamed teller of tales?” Kes slipped an arm around Violet. “I’m not complaining, mind you.”
“I should hope not.” Violet kissed Kes’s cheek.
Niles turned to Penelope. “I know the Gents and their ladies well enough to be certain that this”—he motioned to Violet and Kes’s embrace—“could go on for some time. If Julia were here, we’d hardly have a coherent sentence out of Lucas.”
“It’s kind of a lovely thing, though, isn’t it? Couples who love each other that much?” Penelope said.
It was entirely lovely. And it was exactly what Niles wanted. But that was not a conversation he was ready to have with Penelope Seymour, of all people. “If your business is of a pressing nature, you’d do best to take the reins at this point, seeing as how Violet is currently quite distracted.”
“Yes, one would think she were attempting to win over a hesitant filly,” Penelope said.
Niles shook his head solemnly. “Kes is not nearly as interesting as a horse.”
“I heard that,” Kes objected.
