Page 65 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
“Mr. Vaughn.” Before she could think of something witty or kind or interesting to say, her hands were already untying her apron. She could hardly wait to go out walking with him despite the nearly winter chill.
He was still bundled up in his scarf and overcoat, clutching his hat in his hands. “I had no idea you worked here.”
“It helps when the fights dry up.” Ruby turned and called back into the kitchen, “Miz Penny, I’m done for today.”
Miz Penny peeked her wispy head out from the curtain and gave her a wink. “Of course. Have a lovely time, my dear.”
Ruby shoved the apron into the basket on the floor and gave Miz Penny a look that let her know Ruby was onto her. Miz Penny hadn’t poked her head out to be polite—she’d wanted to see what sort of young man Ruby had ensnared. Miz Penny looked right back at her, as if to say,got yourself a nice pull in that one.
By the heavy wooden double doors, Ruby slid on her overcoat and wound her scarf around her neck. Maximillian watched her don her bonnet, his gloves on, ready to escort her outside. Once she pulled on her mittens, he leaned against the great weight of the door and eased himself into the chill.
“Since you’ve got a few weeks until your rematch with Bruising Peg, I don’t suppose your trainer would mind if I plied you with sweets,” he said.
Ruby walked past him and paused for him to catch up. “I suppose that would be fine.”
“The best place I know that’s open on a Sunday is a bit of a walk from here. Do you mind?” Maximillian gestured at the sky, crisp, clear, and windy.
Feeling generous, Ruby leaned toward him a bit. “Part of my training is to do a bit of walking on my off days. So I don’t get all cramped up.”
“Then it works out,” he said. “You get sweets, your trainer gets the walk.”
“And what do you get, Mr. Vaughn?” Ruby asked, admiring the people in their scarves and hats pushing against the wind.
“The pleasure of your company.” Maximillian puffed out his chest. “Not every day I get to escort London’s lady champion.”
“Oh, go on now. Don’t let Ms. Abbott hear you say that. She’s protective of her title.”
They walked until Ruby felt her toes go numb, but she didn’t complain. She liked hearing Maximillian’s stories of service and his antics with his footman friend Roger. So she regaled him with stories of her own about other fighters, and throwing the drunks out of the Pig and Thistle every so often.
Maximillian indicated toward a vendor they approached. “Do you like roasted chestnuts?”
Ruby’s eyes were near glassed-over from the chill, and the idea of warm chestnuts sounded heavenly. He paid for two packets and handed her one. They stood against a building to block the wind. Ruby held her packet up to her face to feel the warmth.
“Oh, bollocks, I’m sorry. Are you cold?” Maximillian asked.
“A little? If we keep moving, I’ll warm up.” Ruby didn’t want to complain, but was pleased he noticed her shivering.
He shoved off the wall. “Then let’s be off. Sweets await.”
By the time they arrived at the chocolatiers, Ruby was frozen solid. But it was worth it, since he’d made her laugh and, in turn, laughed at her jokes. Made her feel downright witty, he did.
They stopped in, had a chocolate so thick and bitter that it felt like it coated her teeth, and he told her all about life at the Pearlers’. She liked hearing about all the people serving a great house as if they were their own sort of family downstairs. And it sounded nice to know that you’d always be warm.
“I suppose I should walk you home,” Maximillian said finally. The windows outside the shop showed the gloomy cold day darkening further.
They stood, and he helped Ruby into her overcoat. “Though I’d walk you all the way to Liverpool if you’d let me.”
Ruby laughed, pulling on her mittens. “And what about Mr. Hastings? I’m sure he wouldn’t want you so far away when he expects you to be up with polished shoes tomorrow morning.”
“Hang ’em all.”
They walked out of the shop and into the cold. Ruby fought every urge to hunch over against the cold. But she wanted to look at Maximillian Vaughn, who was much more charming than she’d thought he’d be.
He stopped her just in time from walking right into a puddle, though it did look iced over. “Being in service is like this … You can tell this puddle is iced over, and a part of you thinks, if I step there, my foot will get wet. But it doesn’t, because the ice is a barrier between the water and your foot. Living downstairs is like that. My gloves are my barrier. I handle all their things, but not really. I never touch them. I never touch their plates, their shoes, their luggage. My gloves do. As if no matter how close I get, I’ll never touch them.”
Ruby studied him for a long moment. “You know my favorite thing about this kind of puddle?”
He gave her a sly grin. “I think I do.”
