A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter
Page 51
Something brushed Theo’s elbow and she realized Clem was stood at her side. His stance was casual in the extreme and he looked entirely at ease, but even so, the hairs on the back of Theo’s neck stood up. She needed to keep things calm for Felix’s sake.
“Let us not do this out in the street, Brother,” she said glancing about them. If she was not mistaken, she could see shadowy figures had appeared behind several front windows. At her words, the wrath seemed to suddenly slide from Felix’s frame, leaving him white and shaken.
“Tell me you have not married him, Theo,” her brother appealed to her hollowly. “Only tell me that, and I swear I will forgive you all.”
“I’m sorry Felix, but you are going to have to face up to hard facts,” Theo said gently. “I am indeed married. Clem is my husband,” she said firmly as Felix began shaking his head, “and your brother-in-law. We are coming inside—”
“Over my dead body!” Felix bleated but was fooling no one at this point. Theo directed a speaking glance at Clem, then took her brother’s arm, steering him into the house. When she glanced back over her shoulder, she saw Clem gathering up his cases to bring inside.
“You look shattered, Felix,” she reproached, clicking her tongue. “You should not have sat up all night, especially after Harold explained I had likely eloped—”
“Hah!” burst out Felix as she led him down the hall and into the front parlor.
“I do not remember you sitting up all night after Henrietta eloped,” she pointed out.
“Henrietta eloped with a respectable man,” Felix pointed out sullenly as Theo steered him into the best chair before the unlit fire.
“Ugh!” she said wrinkling her nose. “You and Harold must have been smoking disgusting tobacco in here all night! It reeks!” She hurried to the window and threw it open for some fresh air.
“Where is that blackguard anyway?” Felix asked crossly. “Do not tell me he has abandoned you already. Now he’s got his filthy hands on a quarter share of my theatre!”
“He is bringing in his luggage,” Theo said calmly.
“Is he by God?” Felix rallied, puffing out his chest. “Of all the brass neck! Moving into another man’s home, bold as you please!”
“The house is one-third mine,” she pointed out mildly. “As well you know Felix.”
Felix eyed her with a jaundiced expression. “You do realize, I suppose, that is the sole reason he married you?”
“To move into a run-down residence on Juniper Row?” Theo asked lightly. “I had no idea the location was such a desirable one.”
“Do not be facetious with me, Theodora!”
“I had something he wanted; he had something I wanted,” she explained calmly, propping herself on one arm of the sofa. “Our marriage makes perfect sense, and we mean to deal very well with one another.”
“My God, Theo!” Felix pronounced with disgust. He shook his head. “My uncle and I have done you a disservice in sheltering you so much. You’re even more foolish than I gave you credit for!”
“Careful Fields,” growled Clem’s voice from the doorway. “Have a care how you speak to my wife in future, or you’ll answer to me.” He turned to Theo. “Which bedroom is yours?”
“Our bedroom is on the second floor, dear. The furthest room to the right,” she answered before turning back to her speechless brother. “Now, shall I make us all a nice pot of tea?”
*
Clem surprised Dora in the kitchen five minutes later as she was emptying the last of the tea leaves into a large pot. “I’m afraid it will be rather weak tea—” she started but did not finish for Clem came right up behind her and closed his arms about her, holding her close to his chest.
“Clem?” she asked sounding a little unsure.
“Hmmm?” He was inordinately pleased with his Dora right now. She had been a trojan, striding into the house to claim him a place at the table. “Maybe I should have tried a little of this on the previous time we were together in this kitchen together,” he murmured in her ear, before twirling her around in his arms. “And really given Allsop something to look at.”
“Has Harold come downstairs, then?” she asked.
Clem treated this query with the contempt it deserved and ignored it. Instead, he swayed her in his arms as though they were dancing, even though there was no music to be had. “Where is his room anyway?” he grunted, in far too confrontational a manner. Luckily Dora did not notice, likely because she always believed the best of him.
“Oh, Harold has the two attic rooms,” she answered absently. “But I dare say he must have heard our arrival, for he keeps one of the windows open at all times. His great aunt greatly espoused fresh air for healthy lungs. He must have heard the commotion but not wanted to intrude.” She tutted. “Poor Harold.”
Poor Harold, my ass. “I should have kissed you, right here,” he said, whirling her around and pressing her back against the kitchen dresser. “I wanted to.”
Dora gave a gurgle of laughter. “No, you did not, Clem Dabney!” she said stoutly. “You are misremembering on purpose. I had burned my arm, and you were forced to administer to my injury, wrapping a soggy tea towel around it. You were not remotely”—she hesitated before concluding—“amorous.”