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“Shhhhh.”
The professor didn’t look at all like your stereotypical absent-minded one. No tweed jacket patched at the elbows. In fact, Breckenridge looked dashing in his tux.
He was tall. That was good too, although it was distracting. It made Mary think of climbing a stair or two to facilitate a really good kiss goodnight with Van.
The professor’s hair was ebony except for intriguing streaks of silver just above temple height and winging back.
It didn’t hurt to have a man around who was easy on the eyes, although the real lookers, like Van, created problems of their own for the people in their lives. If they knew they were gorgeous, yuk. Even if they didn’t, too many other people, okay, too many other women, wanted to snuggle close to all that gorgeousness.
The professor wasn’t in the same league, of course, but how was Cyn taking all this?
She was preening a little at the promising professor’s obvious interest, sparkling yet a little more as he took her hand in both of his. Nice touch, that. A hint of old-world gallantry.
Or — was it?
The teeniest, tiniest bit of tension was seeping into the atmosphere over there.
Was Cyn tugging a little, trying to get her hand back? Had Professor Breckenridge tightened his grip as his mouth moved faster?
Van tightened beside Mary. “I don’t like the look of that.” He edged closer to the potential pair.
“Things look not quite right over there, don’t they?”
“I wonder if word leaked out that this is a husband-hunting affair. That would complicate things. Aunt Cynthia’s investment portfolio could dazzle the wrong people. That’s not the way I want a relationship to start for her.”
Mary followed Van closer to the target couple. Sometimes, he was about as subtle as a hungry tiger on a cattle farm. She’d stay close enough to keep him out of trouble.
Now Mary could hear the professor’s famous Godiva chocolate voice. Unfortunately, he wasn’t using it to recite English Romantic poetry. Nor anything else anyone might want to listen to, judging by the word “I” popping up every few seconds.
“Well, that’s interesting, Professor, but let me get you a glass of champagne.” Cyn tugged the hand he held.
“Call me Cecil, my dear, please do.” He clasped her hand more fulsomely still and pulled it in the general direction of what he undoubtedly thought of as his manly chest. “And please don’t trouble yourself about the champagne. I hardly need anything to add to the heady experience of making your dear, dear acquaintance. And I haven’t finished telling you about my triumph for the museum in acquiring — ”
Cyn gestured effusively with her free hand. Uh-oh. She was never effusive with people she actually liked.
She tugged again.
The pretentious professor still wouldn’t let go. Not evenwhenshepulledhimoffbalance.Marywatched in horror as he teetered in slow motion toward Cyn. Thistumblewasgoingtohurtsomebody.Marybarely had time to hope it would be just him before Van appeared in what little space remained between the professor and his aunt. Van shoved the man, none too gently, back into balance on his feet.
Cyn waggled her fingers at the professor in farewell and turned on her heel. She looked as though she would have been perfectly happy to shove the professor around herself.
“We must spend some quality time together again later,” she warbled insincerely as she sailed off.
“Oh, but dear lady — ” Breckenridge took off after Cyn.
Van’s fists bunched, although they stayed at his side. For now.
“Van, don’t. Your aunt will be upset if you flatten any of her guests, even this one. Let me see if I can derail this train wreck without fisticuffs.”
She was smaller and could move faster than Van. “Professor, I need to speak to you,” Mary called after him as he chased Cyn. Mary darted around some chattingguestsandgotaheadofBreckenridgetocut himoffjustasCynpromenadedintotheladies'room.
Good, that should stop the professor.
Mary poured on the speed, dashed through the door as well, and slammed it shut.
On the professor’s nose. He howled. Served him right. The door wouldn’t have hit him if he hadn’t been oblivious cad enough to try to invade sacred female territory.
Mary heard another collision, and Van growled. Or was it howled? He had probably smashed into Breckenridge and the ladies' room door.
