A Bride for the Prizefighter - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,100

which they shared as she washed and dried all the glasses and mugs.

At one point, a grumbling Reuben appeared bearing the empty platters which now only held pastry crumbs from the devoured pasties.

“Not there!” Edna scolded him when he tried to set them down on the clean table. “Over by the sink for washing, you lummox!”

He changed direction and slammed them down, but Mina cut off his hasty retreat by pointing out the clean glasses for the bar. “You’ll need to take those back through now, Reuben,” she pointed out coolly. Reuben muttered under his breath but followed her directives all the same.

“After this week, Nye really needs to take a good look at the staffing of this place,” Mina said darkly.

“He’ll never sack Reuben,” Edna said bitterly.

“Why not?” Mina frowned, looking up in surprise. “Is his stable work really so indispensable? He seems a surly, disobliging fellow to me.”

“It’s not his work in the stables the master cannot do without,” Edna muttered and would not meet Mina’s steady gaze.

Mina pulled the plug on the sink and let the dirty water drain away as she considered this. Was it possible that Reuben was in on the smuggling business, she wondered? She collected the bucket from the corner of the kitchen and carried it outside to the pump to refill with water for boiling. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up to see Effie’s man and another muscled prizefighter both smoking cigars as they sat on the low stone wall in the sunshine.

“Mrs. Nye,” they said both said, removing their cigars from their mouths politely before they spoke. Neither of them wore a jacket but were sat in their shirts and waistcoats as if relaxing in their own gardens.

She nodded. “How do you do.”

“I’m Jeb Morris,” said the first who had very pale blue eyes. He nodded to his companion. “This here’s Clem Dabney.”

“How do,” said Clem, eyeing her curiously. His waistcoat was pink and black with gold stitching and he wore no cravat, his collar slung negligently open as if he were still shaving. Mina wondered if it was due to his thick, muscular neck. Perhaps neckcloths were uncomfortable for him to wear?

Jeb hesitated. “You probably don’t remember us,” he said. “But we were at your wedding.” She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a twinkle in those almost colorless eyes as he replaced his cigar between his lips.

Mina seized the arm of the pump and worked it, glad for a distraction. “Yes,” she said after half-filling the bucket and pausing to rest her arm. “I do remember both of you as it happens. You were with Effie who was very kind to me and as for you, Mr. Dabney, your companion broke a mirror in your room and threatened to see you hanged if I remember correctly.”

Clem Dabney let out a surprised guffaw. “Aw Goldie didn’t mean anything by it, Mrs. Nye,” he told her with an easy grin. “She’s just got the temper of a fiend.”

“Is she not here with you this weekend?” Mina asked.

He smirked. “She’s otherwise engaged.”

“Don’t listen to him, love,” Jeb recommended. “He’s already moved onto pastures new.”

“Not all of us are ready for a leg shackle, like Nye was,” Clem protested.

“Not a very flattering way to describe Mrs. Nye, Clem. You’re ungallant, so you are,” Jeb chafed him.

“Nay, that wasn’t my meaning, Mrs. Nye,” Clem said hastily. “I make a point always to be gallant to the ladies.”

“Such gallantry I believe I can live without,” Mina said dryly, and Jeb laughed uproariously as Mina worked the pump until the bucket was filled and then stooped to pick it up.

“Nay, let me,” Clem said, sliding off the wall and taking the bucket from her. “I’ll prove I’m a gentleman and all!”

Mina nodded to Jeb who was still wiping tears from his eyes and led the way back to the kitchen with Clem following docilely behind her. “Thank you kindly, sir,” she said as he set it down on the kitchen table.

He turned to where another two empty pails stood next to the door. “Let me get these for you, Mrs. Nye,” he said, pointing his thumb toward them with a lopsided grin. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It would be a kindness,” Mina said, inclining her head. “And I thank you.”

He strode off with the remaining buckets and Edna gave her a wide-eyed look from where she was kneading the dough.

“We can use all the help we can get,” Mina reminded her.

17

The clock struck

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