One More Kiss - By Mary Blayney Page 0,85

win would overcome Beatrice’s natural wish to avoid a henpeck.

“A guinea that there will be a hen fight the minute they are released from the cage.” Lord Crenshaw won his guinea from Lord Belmont.

“Belmont obviously knows nothing about hens,” Destry said to Cecilia.

Jess noticed that while she did not ignore him, she did no more than nod.

Beatrice decided to champion Molly. Jess watched her, not the hens, and grinned at her enthusiasm, the way she wrinkled her brow at Molly’s disinterest.

“This is a race, Molly! Money is at stake. Possibly even your life!”

The four chickens responded to the boisterous shouting and encouragement, each in her own way. Molly and Nameless Number One pecked the earth, ignoring the noise. Roxie headed toward the finish line with purpose but was distracted when Lord Destry whistled.

“You can’t whistle like that!” Beatrice shouted. “That’s not fair, is it, Lord Jess?”

Jess folded his arms, and rocked back on his heels. “Whistling is perfectly acceptable.”

“Of course you say so since Lord Destry is on your team.”

“Of course,” Jess said, holding back a laugh.

She gave him a threatening look, but he was sure she saw the laughter in his eyes.

At that moment Nameless Number Two flew toward the ladies, though she could not make it over the wall. Even so all of the ladies screamed, except Nora Kendrick, but even she took a step back.

Having achieved her wish to wreak terror on the humans, Nameless Number Two settled to the ground and began a prosaic search for seeds and insects.

Molly began to move with significant speed, but in the wrong direction.

With a “No!” Beatrice lifted her skirts to a rather unladylike height and stepped clear over the wall. She grabbed Molly from behind, a move so unexpected, by the hen at least, that Molly was not able to elude her. The hen squawked with such vehemence that once she was facing the right direction Beatrice ran from the course and back to the relative protection of the wall.

Apparently Molly blamed Roxie, the hen nearest her, for the interference and a classic hen fight began. The keeper brushed them apart with a broom, urging them toward the finish line, but the two seemed set on bickering. It took another try for the keeper to separate them successfully.

Then Roxie turned her head and, with one eye, stared at Katherine Wilson. “What did I do? I didn’t do anything,” she insisted, stepping behind Nora Kendrick.

Suggestions flew back and forth on Roxie’s motivations until Lord Belmont called out. “I will pay a shilling to anyone who can stay quiet for one minute.”

Murmurs all around before silence settled on the group. Now all that could be heard was the pecking and squawking of the hens. Lord Destry picked up Nameless Number One and set her in the correct direction, a few feet ahead of her starting point.

One of the ladies protested, very quietly, but it was a sound, and Belmont held out his hand for a guinea. Beatrice handed him a marker and pressed her lips together.

As the end of the minute approached one of the chickens moved purposefully and directly for Lord Crenshaw’s boot, the toe of which was under the edge of the fabric. Everyone pressed forward and saw Crenshaw lift his foot and kick the fowl toward the center of the run, without force but without any care, either.

Jess saw Destry draw in a breath to protest, but then Cecilia put a hand on his arm and he stayed silent.

A few seconds later when Lord Belmont called the minute, Destry bowed to Cecilia. “You saved me from myself. I and my shilling thank you.”

Cecilia curtsied back to him, her eyes more thoughtful than her smile. “My lord, his anger was barely contained. I was worried about more than your wealth.” His huge smile must have made Cecilia rethink her comment. “I mean that I did not want any unpleasantness to upset us again.”

Des inclined his head, but Jess could tell by his expression that Destry felt his apology had finally been accepted.

Lord Crenshaw wagered that the ladies would lose interest before the hens ever made it to the finish line. Lord Belmont accepted. Crenshaw lost. For with the return of the noise, or perhaps it was the grain Belmont scattered at the end of the run, three of the contestants moved more or less toward the finish.

Miss Wilson protested when Destry nudged Nameless Number Two toward the finish line and away from an apparently appealing insect hidden in the

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