Lord Day and Lady Night

46. Pa-tricking People

A light flared in Amy's eyes, and her gaze abruptly flicked back and forth between His Lordship and the children with their brand-new pets.

"You mean..."

"Yes. They do look rather preoccupied, do they not? Far too preoccupied to follow around a couple of boring adults and get involved in their plans, no matter how...interesting they might be."

Titus whistled. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but...you sneaky little bastard! I admire you."

But Lord Patrick didn't pay nearly as much attention to his old friend as to Miss Amy Weston, whose deep emerald eyes were gazing straight at him. "I second dat," she said softly.

"They also," Lord Patrick added, holding her gaze for a moment, then glancing over at the children, his voice suddenly sounding far too soft for a proper peer of the realm, "look very happy."

"Let's keep it dat way, shall we?" the vicar's wife suggested.

"Agreed." Karim growled, caressing his sabre with one finger, which reminded Lord Patrick eerily of the way the children were stroking their bunnies. "By separating that duke's head from his neck, I would suggest."

"Splendid plan," Titus agreed, miming applause. "There's just one tiny little problem: the bloody freaking castle wall that's in the way."

"We will talk about that tonight," Lord Patrick said with finality, "when we don't have an...audience. But before that," he added with a solemn face, "we need to take care of something very important."

"Which is what?" Amy enquired, cocking an eyebrow.

"Purchasing bunny supplies," he said with a solemn face. "Does anyone know if there is a pet store in this village?"

After the meal, and after Amy had emptied Jo's pocket of several golden salt shakers, they stepped out of the restaurant. Aggie was somewhat reluctant to let go of the steak knife, but in the end, she relented and let herself be led towards the exit.

"Spoilsport," the little girl grumbled as she was dragged out of the restaurant into the busy, open street.

"It belongs to the restaurant. And in any case, you cannot go around carrying it in public," Patrick told her, sternly.

"Fine!" A smile appeared on her face, and she pulled out her trusty old pigsticker, starting to clean her fingernails. "After all, I still have dis one."

"You!" Hurriedly, Lord Patrick leapt in front of the girl, shielding the preadolescent and her ginormous murder-instrument from the view of the passers-by. A middle-aged woman cast him a suspicious glance, and he returned her a beaming smile.

What was that about it being wonderful to be a lord?

"Put that away!" he hissed. "You cannot keep it like that!"

Aggie took a step back, holding her bunny protectively in front of her knife. Patrick made a mental note to have a long talk with the girl about priorities.

"Ye can't 'ave it! I won't let go!"

Patrick stared at her for a long moment—then he turned abruptly, marched over to a nearby stand selling handmade dolls for children, grabbed a doll and pressed fifty pounds into the shocked owner's hand. Whirling around, he strode back to Aggie and, in the most age-inappropriate enema in the history of the world, rammed the doll onto the knife.

"Now you can keep it."

Aggie grinned, hugging her dolly close. "Dis is gonna be my favorite toy!" Holding her up the doll face to face with her bunny, she beamed down and the both of them. "Throatripper, meet Stabby!"