A Bride for the Prizefighter - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,113

for a veil.”

“Oh no!” said Effie, looking shocked. “You’re not to return that. That’s to be kept in your top drawer along with your lucky silver sixpence and your dried blue bouquet.”

Mina started, remembering how she had pitched the delphiniums over a stone wall on her lonely march back to the inn. “That’s very kind of you,” she said, “But you see—”

“Wouldn’t hear of taking it back,” Effie said staunchly. “You can lend me something borrowed if I ever get Jeb up that aisle.”

“Very well, I will treasure it,” Mina said awkwardly. “I don’t precisely know what I did with the silver sixpence in truth and I’m afraid I threw away the flowers in a fit of temper. I wanted to strangle Nye at the time,” she admitted as Dot gave a gust of delighted laughter.

“You’re a dark horse and no mistake,” she said appreciatively. “When you asked that snooty piece of goods if she was comparing herself to a cow! I hardly knew where to look!”

Effie joined with a peal of mirth. “She didn’t know where to put herself!” Effie gasped, wiping her eyes. “I wouldn’t have missed that, not for a month of Sundays! Told you she was a rare ‘un,” she said to Dot.

“She’s certainly not in the usual style,” Dot agreed, though Mina was not sure this was precisely a compliment.

“I think the lads were disappointed to find that pretty Ivy up and gone,” Dot commented when their laughter subsided. “Whatever happened to her? Nye seemed to have no clue.” She shot a keen look at Mina. “If I’m not mistaken, you’ll know more about the matter, than he.” She tapped her nose. “Women always do.”

“A man, like as not,” Effie chimed in. “I hope the poor little devil found a better one than the last she hitched her cart to.”

Mina set her knife and fork down. “She did,” she said. “A widower with two small children, who wanted to marry her and set up house.”

“Well, I never!” Effie whistled.

“Good for her,” said Dot. “I only hope it may work out for her.”

“She seemed realistic about the life he offered,” Mina said, pouring another cup of tea. “And was entering into it with her eyes open.”

“Can’t ask for much more than that,” Dot opined, pulling a face. Effie agreed with a sad sigh. They passed the rest of their meal amicably and from the rumbling of wheels and the clip-clop of hooves in the courtyard outside Mina observed that people were already starting to drift away after last night’s excitement.

By lunchtime, most of the overnight guests had cleared out. They served what was left of the pasties cold to any that were desirous of lunchtime refreshment and to her surprise, Nye summoned her to the door to wave goodbye when the Nat, Dot, Clem, Jeb, and Effie departed in two coachloads. She hurried to his side and he wrapped an arm about her waist. A cart drew out behind them carrying the Toomes brothers and their disreputable toothless old mother, Ma Toomes.

“Where is their third brother at present?” Mina asked as they waved them off.

“Exeter jail,” Nye answered absently. “Why?”

“Tis of no matter,” she hastened to assure him.

19

The rest of the day passed in a blur of bed stripping and laundry. She and Edna pegged three lots out to dry on the line in the sunshine. Mina walked to the edge of the drive and shielded her eyes against the sun to gaze into the distance. It was a clear day and she could see the sea which looked a sparkling turquoise next to the gray granite and green headland. It was so beautiful she could almost believe it an illustrated plate from a storybook.

“You’d best not be thinking about flight again,” a voice rumbled behind her and Mina swung around to shoot a reproachful look at Nye who was stood watching her, hands on his hips.

“I keep thinking I should incorporate a walk along the beach to my day,” she admitted. “Perhaps before breakfast. I imagine it would be a wonderful start to the day.”

“Depends what the weather’s up to,” he retorted. “On a day like this when all’s calm it would be well enough. But the Atlantic Ocean in a storm is none too pretty.”

“I expect it’s still a sight to behold,” she argued. “And if it was too choppy then I should not venture down from the cliffs.”

He frowned. “I wouldn’t want you walking those cliffs on your own. It’s a lonely spot