Page 27 of The Demons of Wychwood

“I haven’t had milk punch since I was a boy. That would be good. Thank you.”

We may have only lain together once, but I’d had lustful thoughts about this man for months. He was a canny bugger and already knew the levers to pull to start my engine.

“Take a seat,” I offered, pulling away from his distracting touch and drawing out a chair for him at the scrubbed table. He chuckled, and unbuttoned his frock coat, then sat.

“Your sister recognized me,” he observed as I set a copper pot on the range and poured milk in.

“I know. Don’t you worry, she don’t care who I get friendly with just as long as I ain’t lonely and he don’t hurt me. She won’t say nuffin’ to no one.”

Kit was silent while I fixed the mugs, pouring a measure of rum and brandy into each to take the chill from our bones.

“With your permission, I’d like to have a discussion with Elowen in the morning about how your niece…came to be. It will be a delicate conversation, so I’d appreciate it if you could facilitate.”

“Very well.” I knew it would be painful, but it had to be done. My girl had been wronged and it cut me up inside that I hadn’t been there to protect her.

“If Bess was conceived by a member of my family, or my household I will see to it that justice is served.”

“Thank you. I should have warned you though, its tricky finding sleep sometimes with a teething babe in the house, and Bess will probably be up with the lark.”

As if she was listening in, Bess let out a wail of pain. Footsteps followed as Elowen got out of bed and walked up and down overhead, a sound I’d grown familiar with as my sister rocked and soothed her baby.

I went to the dresser and sorted through the little pots of spices. I found cinnamon and nutmeg. I sprinkled a little of the powders into the mugs and then added a spoonful of sugar with the booze and spice before pouring the hot milk in. The smell was lovely, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. I could feel Kit’s eyes on me for every step.

“So, what you’re saying is…no matter what, we won’t be doing much sleeping tonight!” There was mischief in Kit’s voice.

I looked up from stirring the hot milky drinks and saw a curious look on Kit’s face—it was so far removed from the frightened man who’d accosted me in the alley earlier and held a knife to my ribs. How time flies, I thought to myself. How easily life can change with a toss of the dice. Considering all that had happened this very day I couldn’t quite believe my luck. I didn’t know if our companionship would be a one-time thing or if I’d see my aristocrat lover again after tonight. The only thing that was clear to me was that we liked each other, and I didn’t want to waste no more time dancing around what I knew we both wanted.

“Um…we’ll take our nightcaps into my room, yeah?” I said passing a mug of hot milk punch to Kit, “It’s much more private in there!”

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