Jade Star - Catherine Coulter [89]
Penelope didn’t know what to do. She felt Thomas’ hand on hers, squeezing, and she forced a big smile. “Hello,” she said. “It is very good to see you both again. Mother is so pleased with the amount of money we raised for your slaves, Mr. Hammond.”
“There are no slaves in California,” Byrony said sweetly.
“Yes, Pen,” Thomas added, “you must begin to listen and perhaps read the newspaper. It would give you all sorts of useful information.”
Brent Hammond was watching this interplay with some interest. He said quietly to Saint, “Your brother-in-law has more guts that I. Does she always roll over and play dead when he tromps on her?”
“He does handle her,” Saint said, “and very well, it appears. I doubt you’ll hear too many sly innuendos out of her tonight.”
“How is Thackery?” Brent asked abruptly.
“Fine,” said Saint. Brent followed his friend’s gaze to Jules. She looked inordinately lovely in a dark green silk gown that was fashioned low on her white shoulders. Her flame-colored hair was intricately arranged in thick coronet braids atop her head. Curling tendrils framed her face.
“I spoke to him briefly before we came in,” Brent said. “He informs me that your wife is a handful. But when I questioned him further, he became as closemouthed as a clam. I fear he’s shifted his loyalty to your little one there. He is, I suppose one would say, firmly in her pocket.”
Saint didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t even want to think about it, at least not this evening. “Does Byrony have any more nausea in the mornings?” he asked.
Brent arched a questioning brow, but allowed the shift in topic. “No, she informs me she’s healthy as I am, but fatter. You don’t expect any problems, Saint?”
Saint did, but he didn’t say anything. No sense in making Brent worry. If the child grew large, Byrony would have difficulties, for her pelvis was narrower than Jules’s. “No problems,” he said aloud. “Just make certain I’m around a couple of days before she’s due to deliver.”
“We’ll be settled in Wakeville for the winter. You don’t mind trekking down? You’ll stay with us as our guest. Jules also, of course.”
“That would be fine. And don’t worry, Brent.”
“If you insist. Incidentally, Maggie was telling me that Jules—”
Saint raised his hand. “No, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve already been informed. I intend to speak to Maggie tomorrow. Now, let’s join the ladies and masterful, romantic Thomas.”
To her profound surprise, Penelope found that she was enjoying herself. Certainly the fact that Thomas squeezed her hand in a meaningful way occasionally under the table made her smile, but she hadn’t imagined that she would actually enjoy having dinner with a gambler and a girl from Maui and a doctor. And a pregnant lady!
“. . . and then Limpin’ Willie told me that he returned the hundred dollars to the man’s pocket and sent him on his way,” Saint said. “He told me the fellow had one of my bandages on his arm. Thought I’d be upset if he did him in after I’d fixed him up.”
He paused a moment to let the laughter die down.
“I think you should run for mayor, Saint,” Byrony said. “You would gain more votes than any man in the history of San Francisco.”
“Saint,” Thomas said, sitting forward in his chair, “tell us the story about Napoleon and his one experience with a cathartic.”
“In front of the ladies, Thomas? And I believe you’ve already told it. Needless to say, he refused any further treatment of that sort.”
“What’s a cathartic?” Penelope asked.
“The opposite of an emetic,” Thomas said, hooting with laughter.
“Thomas!”
“Yes, Pen?” Thomas asked, his face as innocent and guileless as his sister’s was when she wanted to fool Thackery, Saint thought. Which evidently she had. She hadn’t spoken one word directly to him all evening. He wanted to be alone with her. He wanted to yell at her and shake her.