“Mrs. Honeycutt,” Marek said before she could launch into a tirade, as she seemed poised to do.
She jerked toward the sound of his voice. She looked stunned, as if she was surprised to see him, and for a wretched moment, he thought he’d misunderstood and should not have come. But then she smiled so brightly that it felt a little like the warmth of spring sunshine on his face after a long winter. Her cheeks were flushed, and she gazed at him as if she’d just found a long-lost brother she’d desperately searched for. It was entirely possible that she did think that very thing, because he also realized she’d been enjoying the absinthe punch, judging by the near empty glass in her hand.
The two gentlemen looked at him warily.
“Mr. Brendan!”She startled them all by pulling Marek into a one-armed hug. “I am sohappyyou have come! May I introduce you to Mr. Shoreham,” she said, planting her hand on the chest of one man and giving him a hard pat. “And Mr. Marks, both of them members of the Philological Society. Mr. Shoreham has just informed me I am not equipped to be a member!” She said it in a manner that would suggest she was not harmed by this pronouncement, but he knew differently.
So did Mr. Shoreham, who made the unpardonable sin of rolling his eyes. And then he looked at Marek with such superiority and eagerness for Marek to disagree that Marek was tempted to punch him in the nose on principle.
“Mr. Shoreham believes that not everyone is suited for the study of languages,” Hollis said.
“More accurately,” Mr. Shoreham said, “we are engaged in the study of the structure and relationships of language, and not merely the language itself. Learning a language may be left to a tutor. Have you thought of engaging one, Mrs. Honeycutt?”
Hollis’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do you know what else may be left to a tutor, Mr. Shoreham?” she asked, and remarkably, she appeared to be squaring off. “I’ll tell you what. A—”
Marek moved before she did something like fling herself at the man’s throat, and put himself between her and the two men. He said in Weslorian, “Pettiness and misogyny may also be left to a tutor, sir, but I think it better left to a fist in your face, as it is my impression that you are an ass. If you say another condescending word to my friend, I will shove my Weslorian foot so far up your arse I may very well launch you to the bloody moon.”
Mr. Shoreham blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“You should lend yourself to learning the structure of the Weslorian language,” Marek said in English, and turned to Hollis. “Mrs. Honeycutt, may I have a word?”
“I would bedelighted.” She put her hand on an arm he had not yet offered, lifted her chin, and gave Mr. Shoreham a look he’d not soon forget as she stepped away with Marek.
He held aside the curtain of garland and handed her through, then joined her. He took her by the elbow and continued with her, escorting her out into the hall, where he had a half chance of hearing her.
In the hall, she threw her arm around him again. “Did you just save me, Mr. Brendan?”
“No, madam—you were doing perfectly well on your own. I merely added my opinion.” He carefully set her back.
“What did you say to him?” Her eyes were shining and she looked entirely kissable.
“I said things that ought not to be repeated in the company of the fairer sex.”
Hollis Honeycutt laughed with delight, dipping backward a little when she threw back her head. “Thankyou! That man is insufferable.” She suddenly grabbed his arm. “Youcame! What took you so long! I thought you weren’t coming, and I don’t mind confessing that I was truly devastated! Do you see how quickly we’ve become friends? I havesomuch to tell you.”
She was talking so fast that he had to watch her lips move. But he had trouble concentrating on the words they formed because the idea of kissing her was now firmly entrenched in his thoughts.
“But first tell me, what do you think of the decorations?” She paused and slowly turned a circle, as if taking in the sights for the first time tonight.
“Lovely,” he said.
“Have youeverseen such a tree?” she asked, leaning into him to view the tree.
He didn’t move as he probably should have done. “Never. At least not in a house.”
“You see? You’re learning all sorts of new things in London.”
“Yes, I am,” he said softly. Things about himself, mostly. He had learned that he didn’t want to live between worlds anymore. He wanted to live firmly in a world where there was a Hollis Honeycutt.
“Guesswhat?” she whispered. “Douglas is here!”
“Pardon?”
“Lord Douglas, with the sheep! I mean theship.” She gave a hearty laugh and shook her head.
Marek smiled. “How much of the absinthe have you had?”
“The what?”
