Page 19 of The Marquis, the Minx, and the Mistletoe
"I'm not sure drawer is the right word, darling," Rose replied with a laugh, "but I am rather good, aren't I?"
"The best," he confirmed after an exaggerated swallow, grinning widely through the crumbs on his lips.
Rose laughed, continuing her path around the table while her own iron star still sat, naked, in front of her empty chair. No one doubted that it would be stunning when it was eventually finished. Over the years since her marriage to Gideon, Somerton had become dotted with her sketches and paintings, adding a brightness that had never shone in this house under the former viscount.
Tia and Glory were working closely together, comparing their sheets of paper and commenting on one another's ideas, though Sheldon had managed to catch the former lady's eye once or twice. It was damned frustrating, only ever seeing her in these large, proper groups, where behavior might be observed. She had clearly warmed to him significantly since the last time they had been at Somerton together, and he very much wished to see just how warm she'd gotten.
The memory of her brushing his bicep with her hand as she'd passed him days ago in that hallway had been hounding his thoughts in a way he hadn't experienced since his school years. It was ridiculous, he knew, but somehow that little touch had become a more provocative memory than the kiss they had shared over a year ago, in the private enclave of a guest bedroom.
He pulled the ornamental dagger from his belt and laid it on the table, rubbing his thumb over the grooves in the carvings to pull himself back to the here and now. The bats ornamented here were hardly what he would call realistic. They had the styling of all medieval images, which was to say, rather square and ghoulish, with lashing tongues and uneven proportions.
"Perhaps I should just draw Echo instead," he joked. "I imagine more people associate me with my hound than the Moorvale bat."
Tatiana's head snapped up at this, a look of surprise on her pale face. She blinked those big, indigo eyes and brushed at the curled strands of black hair that touched her cheeks. She seemed to weigh whether or not she should speak, and upon deciding to do so, cleared her throat first. "Why is your house sigil a bat, Lord Moorvale?" she asked, tilting her head. "It seems a very odd choice. Not very noble or Scottish, are they?"
"Aw, now, why would you say that?" Sheldon replied in a teasing tone. "What'd bats ever do to offend you so, Miss Everstead?"
She pulled a face, which got a rare burst of giggling out of Callie, who sat across from her.
"Bats are ugly," Callie supplied from between the fingers she'd placed over her mouth.
"And weak," added Reggie, holding up his hands in an estimation of how large a bat might be. "So little."
"And they only come out at night," Glory contributed, tapping her chin. "Which isn't very friendly, is it?"
"Well, that's when they eat up the insects that would otherwise plague us," put in Mrs. Laughlin, the housekeeper and Heloise's mother-in-law. She grinned, her dark eyes sparkling. "I think them rather dear, when they're not flapping about. You see them lazing about in the hedges sometimes."
"Puppies with wings," Tia murmured, with a little half smile. "That's what my Nana called them."
"Well, what sort of house has a puppy as its sign?" Reggie demanded. "Puppies are good, but they are not scary!"
"Bats are plenty scary," chided Glory, gesturing at her nephew with her star. "I would scream if I saw one."
"But, Aunt Glory," Reggie said, dropping his hands on the table in exasperation. "You are just agirl."
"Beg pardon," Heloise gasped in mock outrage. "I'll have you know I love all manner of creepy crawlies and am also justa girl."
"You'redifferent, Auntie Hel," Reggie mumbled, crossing his arms in what looked like the beginnings of a proper strop. "Everybody knowsthat."
"Why not let Lord Moorvale answer the question?" suggested Mrs. Laughlin. "And then we will pass our judgements."
Sheldon winked at her, making her blush, and held the dagger up by its blade so that the table could get a good look at the centuries-old rendering of the Moorvale bat on the hilt. "Where do bats live?" he asked, looking pointedly at Reggie.
"Caves?" Reggie answered. "Trees?"
"Caves are their favorite," Sheldon confirmed. "And there are many caves around my ancestral home, Hawk Hill. Have you ever heard the expressionblind as a bat?Bats aren't completely blind, but they have terrible eyesight. They use their superior hearing instead to navigate the world, which is why they have an advantage in the dark—like inside caves and out in the world during nighttime."
"So Clan Moorvale has particularly keen hearing?" Rose asked, taking her seat to listen to this story.
Sheldon laughed, remembering the way his father had required things shouted at him toward the end. "Not remotely, I'm afraid, my dear lady. Which is why during a particularly nasty raid, many centuries ago, the Moorvale clan got lost in the system of caves that run through the hills. It saved them from the fire and the slaughter, but at what cost?"
The footman next to Sheldon shivered.
"What's a raid?" asked Reggie, keen at the suggestion of chaos.
"In the old days, before we had kingdoms, people lived in little groups that governed themselves. They would get into fights with their neighboring groups and sometimes go to war, but more often than war, they would simply arrive in the night to steal a few head of cattle and destroy some buildings. It sent a message, and unfortunately, created a longstanding tradition of raiding, stealing, and pillaging."
Callie didn't like this, and frowned, looking around the table for some support from the adults. "But that is terrible!" she said, which only caused her frown to deepen when several of the adults chuckled at her offense.
