Shiners

Stocking rolled up and secured with baby blue garters, satin slip wisped over her head, and finally the drop-waisted, sleeveless, silk dress with the gas-blue beads shimmied into, she stopped moving long enough to inspect herself in the mirrored vanity.

She was met by a reflection that displayed a pretty young woman with a fashionably short, swinging bob. The stunning cut of her glossy, strawberry blonde hair had been a scandal and hissing around her family's dinner table, but Mary Kate enjoyed a good lark.

Her boyish frame was exactly the type to wear the new style dresses that were suddenly so popular, and the blue beads that shimmered in rows from the dropped waist to the hem matched her eyes perfectly.

With a satisfied smile she put on the coordinating earrings and tossed her head watching the beads knock against her cheeks, then shook her hips to watch the skirt beads shimmy.

She clapped her hands and squealed inwardly, then grabbed up her mink from the four poster bed and ran down the three flights of stairs to the main foyer as fast as her blue-slippered feet could carry her.

"Mary Katherine," she heard her mother say, "Young lady you will not run in this house."

Mary Kate rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mother," she said, hopping from one foot to the other in anticipation, impatient for her friends to arrive.

"Look at you," Mrs. MacGregor scolded. "I told your father we should have sent you to your Aunt's in Connecticut rather than to Europe for the summer. You'll catch your death of cold in that dress."

"I have a coat, Mother," she said lifting the mink.

Mrs. MacGregor sighed and walked back into the east wing where her younger children were being read to by their nanny. Mary Katherine had always been high spirited, but since her eighteenth birthday and the three months in Europe, she had been giddy and nearly unmanageable. With another sigh, Elizabeth MacGregor wondered if her daughter would so sully her reputation that she would be unmarriable.

Mary Kate was out the door when she heard the horn and dashed down the front stairs and across the lawn path to cram herself in the back of Ben's hopped up Ford. She pulled her hat down over her hair and grinned at her friends conspiratorially.

"We're going to Easy Dan's," Ben said, speeding off as the girls in the back squealed and giggled and the boys in the front laughed, "I got the password from my older brother's friend. We're in like Flynn," he bragged.

* * *

Nick smiled down at the little cluster of friends crowded round the small table. "Then there's this," he winked, his fingers flying across the piano in a ragtime version of an old respected hymn. Everyone was laughing and glowing, eyes and faces warm from the brandy and cognac they'd been drinking.

New York was cold in November, but the little back room they occupied was toasty warm. Charming John's black velvet eyes crinkled at Nick conveying the personal joke that made Nick laugh and change the tune.

John sat with his arm slung around the shoulders of a girl he'd taken off the dance floor, his tuxedo jacket a bit rumpled, and tie askew but still looking dapper. He and Nick had made the speakeasy a home away from home away from home in the time they had been in the City.

Social circles coming easily to both of them, they'd found shelter from prohibition in Easy Dan's back room. The posh set knew about the little place, low lit and only 400 feet square, the walls lined with little round tables with a small raised platform that held a piano and enough room for a three piece jazz band. The tiny dance floor was always crowded, that night being no exception, and the crowd diverse.

John's new friend Warren sat at the table with his arm around his moll. Nick wasn't sure about the dark man's background, but he seemed well connected and no one got in his way. Still, he thought, plinking out chopsticks to the delight of his date and catching her eye with a wink and a smile, John needed watching. As his date returned the wink, he decided that someone else could use some concentrated watching as well.

Nick had been back down at the table conversing amiably with his friends when the fight broke out. Some young University man had too much to drink, and his fist hit his buddy's jaw. It would have been fine, but the bruise-faced friend had flown back against the table of Tony Marcelli.

In a flurry of feminine screams, masculine shouts and breaking glass, a shot rang out.

"Ben," a girl screamed as a young man fell, clutching his chest.

Everything was moving slow motion for Nick. He saw Tony pack his pistol back into the holster he wore under his jacket and motion for Dan.

"Get him outta here," Tony yelled indicating the unconscious man lying across his table, "And toss them, too."

Warren had risen to his feet and made his way through the tiny crowd to kneel beside the fallen young man. He checked him out and decided that the shot to the pale man's shoulder wouldn't kill him, and he turned his dark eyes on the girl who was going berserk and spoke, "Get him outta here and get him some help."

In a few short moments, peace was restored, and the University crowd had dispersed. Save for one, Nick noticed, and she was still standing against the back wall watching the room with narrowed eyes. Warren seemed to notice her at the same time, and he walked over engaging her in conversation.

John and Nick both kept their eyes on the two as the conversation grew more and more animated, finally ending with a sharp slap to Warren's cheek. They could see his nostrils flare as he slapped back. The girl looked more stunned than anything else, and she squared her shoulders and said something they couldn't hear.

Warren's face flushed with blood and his fists clenched, then just as suddenly he began to laugh, took the girl by her thin upper arm and pulled her over to the table where they sat.

"This one's got moxy," He announced, forcing her down into a chair, "Called me a Wop."

John started to laugh, but he stilled himself seeing that her boldness was merely fronting the fear that had kept her paralyzed when her friends dashed out the door forgetting her in their flight. He realized that she wasn't still there by choice, and that she'd gotten herself stuck in an adult world she knew nothing of. Debutantes, he said to himself.

Nick smiled warmly, "Well, Moxy," he said, "I'm Nick, this is Lila," he indicated his date, "That is John. That is Claudia. And Warren you've met."

The girl John had plucked from the dance floor said, "And I'm Flossie."

Mary Kate was unprepared at best to handle the situation. They didn't teach this kind of etiquette at Finishing School. Suddenly, though, the thrill of adrenaline hit her. This was the adventure she'd been craving, tired of sitting up in her ivory tower on the upper East side. This was the dangerous life she had craved. She made a quick decision then smiled generously to Nick.

"You can call me Moxy," she said.

Mary Kate's head throbbed, and she groaned aloud. She'd not had that much to drink since that first night in Paris. Painfully she turned, tucking the covers up tight beneath her chin and wrinkled her forehead trying to swallow. She stank of nicotine and the smell alone made her stomach churn, but her body hurt so badly she couldn't muster the energy to release it.

Someone stroked her forehead softly with calloused hands, and she let the creases unfold from her brow under the touch, then suddenly realized that she was not in her bed.

Slowly, painfully, and haltingly she opened her eyes to focus on the chiseled face of the Englishman she'd met the night before. The dark haired one. What was his name? John. He was smiling sympathetically.

"Feeling like the devil," he asked quietly.

Mary Kate nodded and winced. She hurt too badly to be very concerned with her predicament, but wondered foggily if she'd taken it too far this go round.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed in a sleeveless undershirt and black trousers. Formal trousers, she recognized, probably from his tuxedo and shifting around a bit she was assured that she still wore her slip and undergarments, though she recognized the toe of a silk stocking peeking out over a lamp shade, the leg of it draped down the side.

She took a moment to acquaint herself with the room. She appeared to be in a suite of sorts, all dark cherry wood. It was like the smoking room at her father's club. Dark greens and crimsons shot through with gold. She saw her dress laid out smoothly on a settee, her little slippers neatly alongside it.

"Did we..."

John held back a laugh seeing the look in her blue eyes. She was old enough, he thought, and had been more than willing, but he preferred his conquests conscious.

"No, Love. I slept in that chair," he jerked his thumb back to the corner where a wingback sat, "Now is there someone we need to call? Was there anyone waiting up for you?"

"Oooh," Mary Kate groaned, the end of it rising to a whine, "I...yes."

John chuckled. Children of privilege, he thought to himself standing, running askance and then too spoiled to be truly ashamed of themselves. He wondered what kind of heat she would take.

"You can put away the gin," he said, pouring her a cup of coffee as she pulled herself up in the bed resting gingerly against the heavy, wooden headboard.

She took the china cup from him, "Thank you. Well, after the first drink it doesn't taste so bad, and after the third it tastes pretty spectacular." She tried a smile.

"I'll just go into the other room," John said inclining his head toward her dress, "When you're ready you can make your call and I'll escort you home."

"Thank you," she said again.

She watched his thin back as he walked away, and rose shakily from the bed fighting waves of nausea as she moved, stepped into her dress and shoes and did up the side zipper. There was a small hand basin and a pitcher of water so she splashed her face and brushed her hair then exited the door she'd seen John go through.

"All dressed?" he asked smiling.

He had changed from his formal trousers into a pair of heavy wool suit slacks and wore a crisp-collared white shirt under a dark green v necked sweater. He was clean shaven and unspeakably handsome. Mary Kate wondered if he might be persuaded to keep her rather than taking her home.

He grinned at her, and she forgot her headache, smiling back caught up in his rosy cheeked, fine boned charm. Then she realized he was trying to show her to the telephone, and she blushed and tried to compose herself.

"5965, Operator," she said and waited, "Hello, Nanny, it's me. Yes, Nanny, I'm fine. I only stayed out a bit too late and didn't want to disturb Mother and Daddy. No, Nanny I'll be on my way home shortly. Oh did they? That's right! I'd forgotten. Well then. Yes, Nanny. Goodbye."

"Hmm," she mused aloud, "I'd forgotten they were leaving for Paris today." She shrugged, "Oh well. Gives them plenty enough time to forget about this."

John chuckled and handed over her mink coat. "It's quite chill," he said, "and you'll freeze to death in that little slip of a dress."

"Oh, my hat," she said, one hand flying to her head, "I guess I left it in Ben's car. Ben!" The events of the evening came flooding back with clarity, "Those natty prigs left me!"

John watched her go from dismayed, to horrified, to angrily spurned in under five seconds, and the whirl of emotion made his head spin. She was a pretty little thing. All eyes and cherry red lips. He'd done well, he reckoned, at keeping his hands off the night before, but he'd stolen more than his fair share of kisses.

The tall clock struck ten, and he ushered her out the door. He had to meet with Warren and some of his contemporaries for lunch, and he didn't want to be late.

Nick grinned to himself as he drug his feet through the door of the building where he and John shared a flat. His mind was still processing the events of the previous evening as he plodded up the steep flight of wooden steps. Lila was quite the strange creature. She loved to flirt with him . . . had been doing so for several weeks now. However, by the time she was ready to leave their little hideaway, she was never in any condition to be much company. The woman just couldn't hold her liquor.

Nick would make sure she got to her apartment safely, then end up falling asleep on the couch. He would rouse sometime mid morning when she found him there. She would send him off with a few silent, groggy kisses and a weak smile, and he would drive home slowly so as to irritate the cars behind him.

He was a bit surprised to find the flat empty, but gave the matter little thought as he collapsed onto the aubergine mohair sofa in the front room. He pulled himself to his feet, dropping his tie on the floor next to the couch and stripping off his jacket as he moved through the flat. A quick glance at the clock left him a bit confused. After an eve at the speakeasy, John never left the flat before noon. Providing he came back at all.

With a sigh and a shrug, Nick fell into his own bed, brushing thoughts out of his mind in favor of sleep.

* * *

Lila hadn't brightened much by the time she set foot in the drug store. She saw Flossie sitting at one of the tables already, flipping lazily through a magazine, one hand preening the perfectly manicured waves of her hair. She dropped herself into the booth unceremoniously. "Hi," she groaned.

Flossie snapped her attention to the guest, and her instant smile fell at seeing her companion's expression. She shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Lila, honey, you've really gotta start drinking something not so strong."

Lile frowned. "But I don't like anything else," she whined. "I just love that warm little . . . "

Flossie interrupted. "You do not. You just like sitting on that piano bench next to that little Brit and batting your eyelashes holding a pretty glass. You don't actually care what's in it."

"Well, the only thing they serve in those glasses is brandy," she complained, eyes on the table top as she began playing with her fingers.

Flossie batted her friend's hands to lay flat on the table. "Oh, I know you were taught better than that," she corrected.

Lila sighed.

A quiet passed between the women, and Flossie flagged the waitress to place their orders for soup. "So, did he stay again last night?"

Lila brightened at the thought. "Yeah," she sighed. "He did. Did I tell you . . . "

"How cute he is in the morning, with his mouth hanging open, and his eyelashes trembling over his cheeks," Flossie finished. "Yes, you've told me 100 times if you've told me once. But you never wake up with him. Why is that?"

Lila shrugged. "I dunno," she replied, mocking his careless English drawl. "That's just how he says it too," she giggled.

Flossie shook her head. "You're like a little girl."

"What's wrong with that?" Lila pressed, the laughter still evident in her smile and voice.

"Well, I don't know, but I'd think a man like him would only wanna toy with a little girl."

"So?" Lila pushed further. "It's fun. And nothing you can say will change that." Conversation halted for a moment as their soup was set in front of them. Lila waited till the waitress had gone to continue. "Besides, you're only sore because tall, dark, and handsome didn't take you home last night."

Flossie scowled, stirring absently at her soup. "Well, I have every right to be. I have washboards with more figure than that little trollup."

Lila giggled as Flossie carried on, not touching her soup till it was nearly cold. Lila set down her spoon and reached across the table to pat her friend's free hand. "Oh, things aren't that bad, Flossie. I wouldn't worry about him. There's lots of men and only so much time. Don't waste it."

Flossie smirked and rolled her eyes. "I suppose you're right."

The two woman sat in companionable silence as they finished their meals.

* * *

John stood a bit straighter, adjusted his sleeves, and then walked into Portofino, blinking to adjust to the low lighting and straining to find Warren. He heard the rough accent calling him over, and with a smile, he picked up his step and shook the extended hand.

"Hey there, Johnny," Warren grinned, his little teeth glinting, "Got some friends I want you to meet."

There were three men seated around the table, all dark haired and dark eyed save for one man with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. The heavier set of the three was called Manzo, the other dark eyed man, the one with the dangerous looking sneer was called Carlo, and the blue eyed man was Al. They called Al the Blue Boy, and he seemed to have the strings firmly in his strong fist.

"Nice ta meetcha's Johnny," Manzo said, offering a beefy hand, "Waz tells us you got a good head for business."

"I've done pretty well for myself," John confessed modestly.

"Pretty well?" Carlo laughed, "We don't got time for pretty well."

John looked confused, and Al smiled an explanation. "Warren's told us that you might be able to help us out on some details of our little business," He said, "and what Carlo here means is that we like to think we always got quality working with us, you know?"

John grinned, his whole face lighting. "I understand." He'd been hoping Warren would give him an edge into his crowd. New York held many charms, but for an outsider it wasn't always a welcoming town. If he could ingratiate himself into Warren's group of friends, he reckoned that he could find himself in a whole new world.

"What kind of business do you have?" John asked.

All four men laughed, and Al answered, "Import/export, my good friend," he said. "Just a little import/export."

Lunch was excellent, and his spirits soaring, John headed back out onto the street, blinking once more at the change of light, stuffed his hands in his pockets to ward off the cold, and went whistling down the block.

* * *

"What's that?" Flossie asked, looking up in time to see the girl from the night before walking briskly past, her nose in the air and head bobbing from side to side as though keeping time to music.

They watched in disbelief as the tall Englishman appeared, crossing the street rapidly, squinting into the sun and crashed into the girl. It was a sudden mess of long, thin, tangled limbs as the two ended up in a heap just outside the plate glass window.

"It's just like in the pictures," Lila said with avid interest. The two girls watched as the dark haired man stood, offering his hands to the other girl. He pulled her up and then seemed to make a connection, grinning with a boyish embarrassment.

She smiled back at him, dusting off her long, wool coat, and felt to be sure her hat was still at it's jaunty tilt over one eye. He leaned over, saying something, and picked up her muff and handed it to her. She blushed and looked down then looked back up, her eyes sparkling impishly and said something that made him throw back his head and laugh.

Flossie frowned watching that. In profile, the square of his jaw was almost unnaturally perfect, and coupled with the unabashed smile it was almost too much. He spoke again, then pointed to the drug store door as though making a suggestion.

The girl's face lit up, then she seemed to ask him the time. He showed her his watch, and she said something up to him, touching her hair as she spoke. He nodded, disappointment evident until she said something else, and he grinned, offering her his arm.

"I hate her," Flossie growled unconvincingly.

"No you don't," Lila giggled. "You don't hate anyone."

"Well, I could try. If I could, I'd sure like to hate her!"

They watched as the two continued on in the direction Mary Kate had been walking and while Lila admired the girl's to-the-minute fashion sense, Flossie couldn't help but sigh at what a stunning couple the two cut.

"Oh well," she said, plopping her chin in her hand and looking to Lila, "Go on and tell me again about how his mouth hangs open and his eyelashes tremble."

"I'm going to ask Lila," Nick told John as he admired another tie from the store table.

John looked at his friend in the mirror over his shoulder. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Nick narrowed his eyes and met John's gaze. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, first of all, you know how Electra is. She fancies you quite a lot and having an escort may not ingratiate us to her social hierarchy."

Nick shrugged as John turned back to the mirror to adjust the new jacket. "Oh, Electra fancies a lot of people. And I won't ignore her. Besides, it will please her husband if I've got a date." He set the tie down and moved to a rack of hats. "You'll have to do better than that."

"Well, you know how Lila gets when she's had too much to drink."

Nick shrugged a second time. "So she gets a bit rowdy. I think she's rather fun like that. Says what she really means."

"Exactly," John agreed, turning to face his companion as he slipped off the jacket. He set to straightening his suspenders as he posed the next question. "What will you do if she, no, when she decides to announce the room that Electra is a bawd."

Nick chuckled. "Well she is."

John gave his friend a warning look. "That won't go over well."

The shorter of the two waved off the issue as he slipped on a hat and posed in front of the mirror, tilting it over one eye. "And I imagine you think that if I'm alone, Electra won't notice your date."

John ignored the question, choosing instead to insult. "You look ridiculous, Nick. Get that off your head before someone sees you."

Nick smiled, removing the hat and choosing to needle John about it later when he would be less apt to resist and more prone to embarrassment.

* * *

"There now," he said with a bright smile to the blonde on his arm. "Aren't you a pretty sight all rosy cheeked and shivering."

Flossie tossed her finger-waved head at him and giggled. Her berry red dress did stunning things for her figure, and John reckoned that he had chosen a right sight for his arm, smiling and nodding at other guests who admired her. He held his head high and led her into the main ballroom wondering at these American castles. Not nearly as drafty as the real things back home, he thought.

He sited Nick across the room and waved, garnering a smile and welcoming nod from his friend and seeing Lila, becoming and mild looking in a soft lavender dress. She wore the high scoop neck well and the chiffon layers that fell from the dropped waist to just above her ankles looked like butterfly wings. Her sleeveless arms were close to her side as she toyed with the long strand of beads she wore. John lifted an eyebrow thinking how quiet a thing she looked, so demure even. Then he turned his attention back to the bright bauble on his arm.

"Care to dance?" he asked to her delight, and they stepped out to the middle of the floor mingling through the cheerfully noisy crowd to fox trot through the next few songs. When they left the dance floor, it was to join Nick and Lila at their table.

"You cut a neat rug, Johnny," Lila complimented, her cheeks just beginning to flush with the brandy in her hand.

"Why thank you, Lila," John grinned, "But I think the partner you have is everything."

Flossie beamed. She had been startled when the handsome Englishman had invited her to join him at the Dawson Mansion for the Snow Ball. It was an annual event held in upstate New York where all of the guests would gather for an evening of dining and dancing, then retire to the plentiful guest accommodations until breakfast would be served in the late morning.

Electra Dawson was known for her parties all along the Eastern seaboard, and her husband Jack was known for his wit, wisdom, and jovial manner. They were the couple to know for a first step in the right social direction, and John had been thrilled to accept his own invitation.

He had considered going it alone, knowing that the right girl was everything in the mind of high society, but at the last minute he thought he couldn't bear the idea of fighting off the notorious Electra, and rang up Flossie. He was introducing her by her Christian name, Florence, though. It made her giggle.

"Well hello, boys," Electra said, wading through a sea of people, "All well here?"

"Electra, Love," Nick stood and kissed her cheeks, "The party is lovely."

John followed suit, "Darling, it is outstanding," he said. Introductions were made, and Electra smiled at the women accompanying her newly elected Golden Boys and made hostess small talk for a short while. Then the band stopped for a moment and all eyes turned to the door.

"Ah, there she is," breathed Electra, "I was terrified she wouldn't come, and I absolutely had to have the Deb of the Year at this ball!"

John's eyes fastened on the slim line of pale pink chiffon that draped down from rhinestone straps to fall in a jagged handkerchief hem, the color becoming brighter and purer as it bled down to a cheerful cherry. He recognized the girl from the speakeasy, and from the street and suddenly realized he didn't know her name.

She stood still just long enough to let everyone have a good look at her Vogue frock and glittering diamonds, then with a saucy nod to the band she sashayed onto the dance floor, and they struck up the Charleston.

"Mary Katherine MacGregor," Electra said to John, whose interest was evident. "Her father is MacGregor Steel, Inc. And will you look at that! The little minx is here alone!"

Mary Kate was dancing her heart out in the line of other young men and women, elbows and knees flashing out at all angles, all smiles and shimmies.

"She looks like a boy," Flossie pouted to Lila quietly.

"Shh," she quieted with a giggle, thinking to herself that the girl really didn't have much of a figure.

When the band finished the tune and trumpet blasted into another, Mary Kate swept off the floor into a gaggle of girls, giggling and laughing and tossing her hair. A drink was brought to her, which she refused, and then she made her way over to where she had spotted Electra.

The two hugged and cooed over one another's dresses and accoutrements before Electra started another round of introductions.

"Mary Katherine, darling, meet Mr. Nicholas Rhodes and Mr. John Taylor. Oh, and darling these are their lady friends, Miss Lila Montrose and Miss Florence-what was your last name, dear?"

"Anderson," Flossie said with an eye roll, much to John's horror.

"Yes," Electra said, "Anderson. Nickie, Johnny, ladies, may I present Miss Mary Katherine MacGregor."

Mary Kate smiled her most noble smile and tilted her head, "Mr. Rhodes, Mr. Taylor, Miss Montrose, Miss Anderson."

Her heart was in her throat, a sudden jealousy making her lightheaded. The tall Briton she had set her cap for was sitting there with the dance-hall girl. Well, maybe she wasn't a dance hall girl, but she certainly wasn't a blue blood. She was glad she'd worn the new dress, but still cut her eyes enviously at the way Flossie filled out her frock.

"Miss Montrose," she said sincerely, "That is the loveliest shade on you. Tell me, is that a Mary Nash?"

Lila beamed, "Why it is. I do love her things."

"So do I," Mary Kate smiled, "Everything so soft and pretty. If I had your complexion I'd never wear another color! Well, maybe a robin's egg blue, but that lavender is simply dreamy."

She turned her flattery to Flossie with perhaps less sincerity, "And I do wish I could wear red," she lamented, "But it just washes me right out. It looks as though it were made for you, though."

Electra smiled hearing the insult mingled in the compliment and realized that Mary Kate must have already had an eye on the dark eyed man who sat gaping at her. "Bring your sweet self this way," Electra said, taking Mary Kate's hand, "I have several young men who are dying to meet you. And what audacity you have coming alone!"

The four sat silent listening to Electra's chatter as she and Mary Kate walked away.

"Well I think she's nice," Lila announced, then took a deep drink of the warm brandy in her glass.

"You would," Flossie mumbled.

"Oh, stop it. She's nice," Lila argued. Nick chuckled at the pair, eyeing John's unamused look.

John stood, extending his hand to his date. "Care to dance?"

Flossie beamed, accepting his offer. "I'd love to," she replied.

Lila giggled as the others retreated to the dance floor. "Well Flossie knows how to choose her battles," she mumbled.

Nick raised a brow at her. "How do you mean?"

Lila set her glass on the table before answering. "Well, I've seen little Mary Kate on the dance floor, but few can outdo Flossie on the dance floor."

Nick watched the pair for a moment, immediately understanding Lila's words. "She does appear to be rather engaging," he commented.

Lila giggled, leaning in towards him. "Nick, you're so cute."

He smiled at her words, catching a whiff of vanilla as she moved away from him.

She settled down in a moment, changing the subject a bit. "So why is it that I've never seen you on the floor?"

He was somewhat unprepared for this, but knowing they were alone eased his discomfort. "I'm horribly uncoordinated. I'd make fools of the both of us."

Lila was already refuting his words with the shake of her head before he'd finished speaking. "I don't buy it. Not for a minute. I've seen you play the piano."

He shrugged with a smirk. "Well," he admitted, "I do know how to use my hands."

Lila giggled. "Nick, you're a tease." She smiled, keeping his eyes as she stood. "Come on. Let's dance."

Nick shook his head. "No, really, I'm fine just sitting in your company."

She reached out to take his hand. "It's easy. I'll show you." She tugged at his arm, Nick budging not even an inch.

"Oh, Lila, you wouldn't really subject me to this, would you?" he questioned as she didn't seem to give up on dragging him. Nick put his arms about her waist, pulling her into his lap. "Couldn't we just stay here?"

She took both his hands, giggling nearly uncontrollably as she pulled him to his feet. "I'm stronger than you think," she encouraged. "Besides, I like the idea of teaching you something new. Let me teach you how do dance, and you can show me how those hands work later."

Nick raised a brow to her, unwittingly allowing himself to be tugged away from where they'd been seated. "Is that a promise?"

Lila wisely didn't answer him, pulling him into the fray of arms and legs, forcing him to follow her lead.

* * *

"Do you think he's really what we need?" one of the dark headed men questioned.

Warren made no gesture to look toward the person he addressed. "Why not? He doesn't know he's providing us a place. And in a bit, he'll be plying us with the good stuff."

Several of the men laughed. "Why is it these rich people are so stupid?"

Warren placed a set of cards on the table much to the other's dismay, and started to gather the coins and bills in the middle of the table. "Because they don't like themselves. They think other people will."

"Want to dance Mary?" one of them asked.

"Thought you'd never ask," she smiled and took his arm.

"Oh this is my favorite," she cried as the band struck up String of Pearls. Forgetting her imagined rival for a moment, she kicked up her heels cheek to cheek with her partner grinning and dancing.

Nick and Lila were dancing on the fringes, and her laughter was carrying through the room as he trampled her feet, his cheeks flaming. He forgot his misery as Mary Kate and her beau swept past them in unfettered glee, both smiling and moving their feet unreasonably fast.

"Oh," Lila said, "She's really a good dancer. Still I think Flossie's better."

Nick nodded, taking advantage of Lila's distraction to lead her from the dance floor and sit her down at a table.

"Now, Nickie," she pouted, "How are you supposed to learn to dance if you don't stay on your feet?"

"I'm an appreciator of the art of dance, darling," He smiled, "Not an active participant."

Her sulk only lasted a moment before her eyes widened, and she gasped, "She isn't!"

Nick's own eyes widened as he saw the slim girl in the pink tapping Flossie on the shoulder and say something. John looked surprised, then his face lit and he released his date, offering his hand to the other girl.

Flossie stood for a stunned moment then stormed back to the table, "She cut in," she spat. "Little floosey."

"I hope you don't mind," Mary Kate was saying to John as he swept her across the floor waltzing.

"Not at all," he smiled, "I had hoped to see you once I knew you were here."

She grinned, "Well we do seem to keep running into one another."

"That we do. Say, do you know this song?"

"Mmhmm, do you?"

"Casey danced with the strawberry blonde and the band played on," John crooned along to the music, "Yes, I know it. I was just thinking that I was the one dancing with the strawberry blonde, though."

She was gazing up at him before she could stop herself. He was utterly handsome and mysterious, and he danced divinely. She started to shake herself out of the stupor when she realized that he was looking at her the same way.

Mary Kate knew she was a pretty girl, and she knew her self confidence was quite attractive. In fact she was well used to being courted and having all manner of gentlemen at her beck and call, but to have this man looking at her in this way was more compliment than she could bear. She turned her eyes down with a blush wondering why he was gazing at her so when his date was obviously the more beautiful of the two.

John was wondering the same thing. He and Nick had fallen into a bed of roses without thorns in New York. Suddenly they were the toast of their social circle and were moving up rapidly. All the most beautiful and desirable women in the city were ready to lay at his feet, but this skinny, elfin creature with the turned up nose and ready smile had utterly captivated him. Pretty she was, but half grown in comparison to the lush garden Flossie offered. Still, there was something about her that he couldn't keep his mind from touching.

He decided not to worry about it, and simply changed his stride to match the ragtime jump that the band was swinging out.

Lila and Nick spent the next 20 minutes amused at the games between Mary Kate and Flossie over John. "He's either stuck on himself or stupid," Lila giggled, watching as John switched dance partners for the third time.

Nick shrugged. "Maybe some of both," he teased.

Lila smiled, leaning her chin on one hand as she continued to stare. "Doesn't he realize that he won't get either of them if he plays them against each other?"

"They're just dancing. Besides, I know that you'd love to have a pair of suitors vying for your attention."

Lila giggled. "Oh, no one would dare vye for my attention, Nick. I either give it or I don't whether you want it or not." She punctuated her words with a grin and a wink.

He raised an eyebrow to her as the music slowed. "I think I could manage this one. Would you care to join me?"

She made no motion to join him or accept his proffered hand, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, no. I think I'd like to watch you out there alone. Go on," she shooed.

Nick couldn't help but laugh heartily as he tugged at her hand till the pair was on the dance floor folded comfortably into each other's embrace.

* * *

Mary Kate shrugged her shoulders as John took Flossie's hand and led her in graceful circles across the floor, then walked out through the high French doors to the balcony and off into the back garden. A ferociously chill wind hit her in the face, and goose bumps pimpled in droves across her bare arms, and she crossed them over her chest with a shiver.

She couldn't shake the sick feeling in her stomach. She'd had it ever since seeing John with that dance hall girl, and it had not abated in the least. That he had taken her back to dance again only made the cringing feeling worse.

He'd been interested enough the day they'd bumped into one another on the street. He had even walked with her to her hair appointment. Apparently, she decided, she'd not given a very good first impression. After all, there she was in a speakeasy, drinking like a man and going home with him. Even if nothing did happen, it looked bad. Reflected poorly on her character and virtue, her mother would have said.

With another violent shiver, she vowed to be more of a lady. It was either that or be more of what the dance hall girl was, and that was something unfathomable. She had straddled the line for as long as she could, but it was time, she decided, to make a choice. And of lady or tramp, lady seemed the nicest. Ladies had the best jewelry anyway.

She wasn't noticing the cold so much anymore, watching the light catch crystals in her warm breath, and she tilted her head back to stare up into the full glow of the moon. She reminded herself that she was part of MacGregor Steel, and that her family could buy and sell anyone in town. Then with a frown she realized that she wanted neither to buy, nor to sell the handsome Briton—she just wanted to capture his attention.

Rubbing her hands over her upper arms, she turned back into the great house to relish the thawing effect of the roaring fire in the highly polished smoking room.

Mary Kate curled herself into one of the high-backed leather chairs, sliding down so that she was invisible. It wasn't long before she heard voices heading down the hallway into the room.

"Capital idea, Walter, capital," a man's voice that she recognized as Jack Dawson's.

"Well, Cucurullo has bought into it entirely. He told me that he already has the perfect pigeon, and that in no time the man would be committed to him. I insisted on knowing the man's name, but Cucurullo was tight lipped on it. He did assure me, however, that the man was no local."

"Then we're off and running. I want this Senate seat, Walter, and I want it badly."

Mary Kate heard him exhale and smelled the bitter cigar smoke as Walter spoke, "Well, the Mangione family is happy to assist you."

Jack's voice became stern. "You will not mention that name to me aloud, Walter. We do not speak of them in this house. Electra would be horrified, and think of the children."

Mary Kate wondered how she was going to escape notice until she heard Electra's voice calling for her husband and his footsteps walking away. With a sigh of relief she stood only to find herself staring in the face of the man Jack had called Walter.

He regarded her with surprise and sudden suspicion, and she felt her face growing white with panic.

"What are you doing in here?" he accused. "This is the smoking room."

"I-I was cold," she stammered, "And there was a fire," she indicated the flames foolishly.

Walter's eyes narrowed. "Cold, eh? You sure you weren't just looking for some hot information?"

"No! No, I promise, I was just sitting by the fire! Really!"

The man was walking toward her menacingly, threat in his voice, "Do you know what happens to little girls who eavesdrop?"

"They learn new things," another voice supplied, and both of them looked quickly to the door to see John entering.

"Mary Katherine, Darling, I've been looking all over for you." He held out his hand, and she skipped away from Walter to take it.

"I've been warming myself," she said.

"Silly little goose," John smiled charmingly, meeting Walter's eyes over her head. "She's such a child really, always running about as though it is summertime."

"Yeah, a real kid," the man drawled, his eyes firm on John's. "And you're a saint to worry with her."

"Oh, not at all," John kept the charm in his voice as his eyes went flinty, "She's a saint to let me fuss over her. Now come along, Darling, we've a party to tend."

Meekly, Mary Kate allowed herself to be led back into the throng.

"What was that all about?" John asked, when they were sufficiently out of earshot.

"I don't really know," she said her lower lip trembling. "I was just in there by the fire, and I heard them talking about something." She shrugged helplessly.

"Well, it's all over now," John soothed. "Just stay close to me, alright? There's a girl." He smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

"What about your date?"

John winced, suddenly remembering he had one, "Ah, now that will be an issue. Well, we'll cross that bridge when we find it."

Mary Kate laughed, "Then I'll have another chance to make my stand," she thought, wondering if she had his attention after all.

"Such a time as this is no time for deciding anything," John grinned, his eyes sweeping over the party.

"Well, at any rate, I appreciate the helping hand you offered back there," Mary Kate said moving hand in his hold so that she could twine her fingers between his.

"I'm glad to be of service."

Lila and Nick retired to their table, still silent in the afterglow of their dance. She reached for her glass again, but Nick took it from her, setting it on the far side of the table out of her reach. "Why don't we leave this off for the rest of the evening, all right?" he asked.

She frowned for a moment, but then disregarded the missing drink as he covered her hand with his. "All right. It's such a nice glass though," she explained, eyeing the way the light reflected off the liquid.

He smiled, watching her gaze. "Is that the only reason you go after it with such fervor? Because there's nothing in that glass as fetching as you."

Lila started to blush and giggle, but was interrupted by the commotion that ensued the following words. "This is a raid; this is a raid!"

Nick grabbed Lila by the hand, ushering her towards the nearest exit farthest away from a bobbie. He spotted John and "Moxy" Mary Kate slip out the doors as Flossie was nabbed. Too confused to know what to do, Lila clung to Nick's grasp, hoping he would be able to steer them to safety.

"What I don't understand is how anyone caught wind of it," Nick mumbled.

The man in the cell next to him grunted, adjusting his tight vest. "Everyone knows about these parties. But the audacity to interrupt the festivities of law abiding citizens . . . " he trailed off.

Nick sighed, his mind a whirlwind of activity. He stood, turning to face the cell of women next to him. Lila and Flossie were sitting silently side by side, hands clasped between them. Approaching footsteps interrupted the seeming quiet, and Nick turned to see John heading toward him.

"Mr. Rhodes?" the officer with John called.

Nick approached the cell door without a word.

"Posted your bail," John quipped.

Nick nodded. "How about the girls?" he questioned, exiting the cell.

"Them too."

The pair watched in silence as their prospective dates were released. They gathered their things and headed away from the precinct. The four were walking out to John's running car, Nick's arm protectively around Lila. "How did you withdraw, John? The banks are all closed for the weekend."

"I didn't," John said, unsmiling as he opened the back door. Nick understood when he saw the back of the strawberry blonde head in the passenger seat. At least he thought he did.

"Warren was about so he and I worked something out."

Nick let Flossie and Lila slip in before him, catching the glare the blonde shot John.

"That was mighty gentlemanly of you," Flossie growled as John pulled away from the station, "Taking off with Tiny Tim here and leaving me, your date to deal with the raid squad."

John's lips were drawn in a tight, white line, his jaw clenched shut. Nick was familiar with that look, but could not figure out what was causing it. Flossie's upset was minor to a man like John. Something else must have happened, he reckoned.

"Are you going to answer me?" Flossie pushed, "Or just sit there like a bump on a log?"

John still made her no answer, but Mary Kate shifted in her seat to face the accusation for him. "The police had already nabbed you when we saw where you were, off sulking in the corner, Florence. If he'd stayed any longer then there wouldn't have been anyone to post your bail. So what do you have to say to that?"

Lila's tear-puffed eyes went round and Flossie stammered then sputtered, "Well if he'd been with me like he was supposed to have been--"

"Then you'd both been caught right in the middle of the dance floor, and again, there would have been no one to post your bail."

Flossie started to answer but Lila laid a hand on her arm, "Well I'm sure glad you and Johnny were there to help us out," she said.

Nick smiled at her, "My little peacemaker," he whispered.

"Like I said," John repeated, "Warren was able to help me with a small transaction, so you should thank him."

Mary Kate had turned back around in the seat clutching her arms to her chest, and Nick caught John's sidewise glance at her through the rearview. John looked concerned, but he knew there would be no conversation until the dark eyed man was ready.

"Where are we going," Flossie asked after a few minutes of silence.

"We'll be headed back to my flat," he answered stiffly.

"Oh," Flossie said lightly, "So I finally get to see the insides. Going to give me the grand tour?"

John smiled tensely.

John opened the door to his shared flat, and Flossie brushed past him with a saucy walk, Lila and Nick following and then Mary Kate walking wearily behind as John's arm dropped to her shoulders. Nick heard his friend's voice whispering concern, and turned his head to catch John's lips brushing against Mary Katherine's cheek before ushering her inside out of the cold.

Mary Kate walked in further, out of the protection of his arm, and slipped past Flossie, who stood in the inner hall, to enter the bathroom. Flossie's eyes narrowed at John, and she crossed her arms over her stomach.

"Should I ask her to give me the tour, John?" she sniped.

He regarded her with tired eyes then led them into the sitting room where he picked up the phone. "Yes, Operator," he said, "Overton Cabs, please."

"What are you doing?" Flossie insisted.

"Thank you, yes." He leaned away from the receiver, still holding the earpiece to his ear, "I'm calling a cab for you, Flossie."

He could barely hear the dispatcher over the din that stirred at his words: Flossie fuming loudly, and Lila trying to quiet her as Nick did his best to stay between the angry blonde and his friend. Finally John hung up.

"They'll be here presently, Flossie," he said. "Let me walk you out."

Nick was left alone with Lila once more, and he smiled at her, drew her into his arms and hugged her. "So you've survived your unfortunate incarceration?"

"Yes," she giggled, inhaling his warm scent and sighing, "You're a jailbird yourself, handsome."

"Ah, jailbird. Now there's a lovely name for me." He dropped his head down to kiss her upturned lips and rubbed his hands briskly over her back and stepped away a space. "Will Flossie be alright?"

"Flossie's usually the one who gets to the end of a fling first, if you know what I mean. She'd have gotten tired of him quickly. He's nicer than the others. So once her pride heals, she'll be fine."

Mary Kate rounded the corner into the room at that point, a small smile barely turning up the corners of her mouth.

"Mary," Nick said, "Did something happen with John?"

"What? Oh, no. No. We just found out where you all had gone, and we followed." She looked at the floor and scuffed her foot self consciously.

"Gee," Lila laughed, "You're a lousy liar. You should stick to dancing."

Mary Kate looked up shocked, then laughed, too. Nick settled the ladies and started tea, and the three of them were chatting comfortably when John returned, digging his hands through his hair. He had not shaved, though Nick had done a quick clean up before making tea.

Mary Kate looked up at him and offered a smile, then looked back down when he did not return the expression. He exhaled heavily and lowered himself onto the arm of the chair the girl occupied and stroked her head.

"We had a bit of a rough time this morning," he said. He wasn't sure how much he could say in front of Lila, he didn't know her that well, but he knew that if he could talk things out with Nick everything would sort itself out.

Mary Kate had her hands folded neatly in her lap, and she looked back up at John. This time he met her eyes and smiled. "It's okay," he said and looked back between Nick and Lila.

"We do have some trouble, though. I told you I had a transaction with Warren. I don't think you are going to like what transpired."

As Nick's face grew paler and his arm around Lila's shoulder drew closer, John detailed the story.

"John, you should never have agreed to that. It's not worth it," Nick scolded.

"We could so easily have been deported for it, Nick. And it's not really all that horrible," John rationalized.

Still tipsy from their escapades hours earlier, Lila was quick to speak. "It is so awful. That man saw you comin' and took every advantage of you. Now don't get me wrong, I don't want to see you deported, but .. . " She stopped when Nick reached over and patted her knee.

The group sat, silently pondering the idea. Finally Nick sighed. "Well, I don't fancy seeing Miss McGregor caught in this mess to save our skins. You said he's got two trucks?"

John nodded.

"Then I'll take one, and you take the other. There's no sense . . ."

"The two of you will be stopped for sure," Mary Kate interrupted. "Mr. Cucu . . . whatever his name is said that we'd not be stopped because we're a couple. And unless I want my parents knowing where I've been and my family's name dragged through the mud, I'd better get on with this."

John stood, pushing his hands deep into his trouser pockets as he paced. "She does have a point. But I agree with Nick, Mary Kate."

"Well I for one am not apt to take chances with my future on such an issue as this. If he wants to go, that's fine, but I'm going too."

"Oh, that won't look suspicious," Nick mumbled. "The three of us out for a little jaunt through the country side with a pair of trucks."

Mary Kate caught Nick's stare with her own, unwavering in the standoff. She was not about to be persuaded to do what the little Englishman wanted. In a way, she was touched by his concern, and yet she was not about to give away her opportunity to take a trip with John. Mary Kate actually thought the assignment to be rather adventurous. Besides, she reasoned to herself, her father and Jack were close friends. If Jack was in on it, there was the chance her own father was. Troubling as that thought was, she decided that if she could ingratiate herself, she could find out.

"Well if all you need is another party, I'm free," Lila volunteered.

Nick turned his glaring green eyes to Lila, softening as he took in her pleasant expression. He took her lithe hands between his. "I truly appreciate the gesture, Love, but it would be safest if just John and myself went."

Lila laughed. "Oh come on, Nick. You don't seriously think that this girl's going to give up the adventure of a road trip with Mr. Taylor, do you?" When no one answered her bold question, Lila continued. "It'll be fun. Two couples won't be so suspicious, and who wouldn't believe the four of us are moving farther away from the city to have some quiet? Don't all English boys want a good plot of land with peace and quiet?" she teased.

John raised an eyebrow. "We wouldn't have you along if that were the case," he mumbled.

Lila's eyes flew wide, and she giggled for a long moment to Nick's surprise. "Oh, Mr. Taylor, you're funny." She wiped at her eyes as the laughter faded away. "Well, it's settled then. When do we leave? I'll have to pack a case or two. Just for authenticity's sake."

John pursed his lips, leaning on the fireplace mantle and looking back at his friends on the aubergine settee. "We leave tomorrow evening just as the sun is setting," he replied.

Nick caught his friend's eyes for a long moment. "All right then," he acquiesced. "Lila, why don't I walk you home then, and John, you get Miss McGregor off to her home." Without waiting for an answer, he stood, offering a hand to Lila.

Mary Kate was silent as John drove towards her home. He was the first to speak. "You don't have to do this, you know. Nick and I could just as easily . . . "

"No," she silenced.

John glanced from the road to her. "You're determined to have a go of this then?"

She nodded. "That was part of the deal, John. Besides, I don't want to see you in trouble."

John nodded and allowed himself to be guided into a sitting room. "I'll only be a minute," she promised and disappeared to pack her case.

"Well hello," John smiled to a little face that peeked out from behind the chair opposite him.

"Are you Mary Kate's sweetheart?" the little girl asked him innocently.

"Why I suppose for the moment I am," he said. "My name is John."

"I'm Ginnie," the child said stepping forward, "It's short for Virginia. My mommy's name is Elizabeth."

"That's a beautiful name."

The little girl walked over and placed both of her hands on John's bent knee. Her hair was just a few shades lighter than her eldest sister's, and her eyes just as wide and blue. Very seriously she said to him, "Mary Kate went away for a long, long time and I missed her. Are you going to take her away?"

"Mary and I are going to take a short trip," he said, reaching out to stroke Ginnie's soft head, "but I'll bring her home directly."

"She went away to a place called Europe for a whole summer. And when she came back she had cut off all her hair." Ginnie lifted one of her lengthy braids to John, "Her hair was longer than mine."

"I'm sure it was beautiful," he said.

"Mary is the most beautiful girl in the whole world," her sister stated. "I'm five. How old are you?"

John laughed. "I'm twenty-three," he said.

"Mary is nineteen, it's almost her birthday. I got her a present. Want to see it?"

John nodded, then started at Mary Kate's voice, "Ginnie, if you show it to him he might tell me what it is."

"Mary Kate!" The little girl's surprise was evident in her voice and the way her large eyes locked wide at the sight of her older sister. "I don't want you to know what it is until it's time."

John watched as Mary lifted her little sister up from the floor and kissed her nose, "Then you must keep it a secret."

"I'm good at secrets," she said.

"I know you are, princess. Now go find Nanny and tell her to give you a sweet."

Mary Kate sat Ginne back on the floor and swatted her bottom. "I'll be home in a few days."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Ginnie scurried from the room, and John stood to find one of the house help standing with Mary Kate's suitcase. She had changed into a demure version of herself, dressed in a camel colored sweater set and a long skirt of charcoal gray with kick pleats at the back. He smiled at her prissy, sculptured maryjane pumps and single strand of pearls, "Why Miss MacGregor," he said with a mock bow, "How utterly respectable you look."

She grinned and looked to the man behind her, "Marvin, please take those to Mr. Taylor's car."

The man regarded her with a stiff frown. "Mrs. MacGregor would not approve Miss," he said.

"Why now, Marvin," she smiled, "How is it that you know the mind of Mrs. MacGregor so intimately? Mr. Taylor is an old family friend, and quite well respected by all."

Marvin shook his head mutely and did her bidding, his dislike evident still.

"So you've met Ginnie," she turned back to John, "She's rather my favorite sister. Mother says that looking at her is like looking at my photograph at that age."

"Well then, I've seen her before she grows into a great beauty. So are you all ready to go?"

She nodded and took his proffered arm, and they were away to his flat where they planned to meet Nick and Lila.

John, Nick, and Mary Kate all appeared to have gone to a funeral when the foursome left the following evening for their trip. Lila, however, refused to let her spirits be trampled. "That was a lovely meal. I wonder what interesting places we'll see on the way," she wondered aloud.

Nick smiled as he held the door of the truck open for her. She climbed in without hesitation and waited while he made his way to the other side. "Don't you ever get upset, Lila?" he questioned, pulling the driver's door shut after himself.

She shrugged. "Sure. Everyone does."

"Then why are you so happy? We're about to risk our lives just so some people in several other states can inebriate themselves."

"How could I not be happy? I've got a marvelous traveling companion. Besides, someone risks their freedom so we can do the same at the speakeasy," she reasoned. When he simply shook his head as a reply, she continued. "And I don't get to travel much since I left home. This will be a nice, little adventure."

Nick manipulated the car into drive and pulled out behind John. "Well, I suppose we should make the best of it."

Lila smiled at him, then looked out the window, watching as the scenery passed in a flurry. "So how long do you suppose we'll be away?"

Nick shrugged. "Johnny said the drive would take about two days each direction. But we'll be traveling by car on the way home."

She nodded. "That sounds exciting. I don't usually travel by auto. Mother always insisted we take the train."

"Some of them are lovely," he commented. "And I've known a few good meals in a dining car myself. That's the thing about America. It's so large."

The pair continued chatting amiably as they drove. The cab of the first truck was not so pleasant. "You Americans drive on the wrong side of the bloody road," John grumbled.

"How do you know it's not us driving on the right side?" Mary Kate retorted, glancing from the passing countryside to John.

"England was an established country long before America was dreamed of. If anyone is in the right, it's us."

"Well, if you like it so well, why did you come here?"

John was silent, not desiring to answer her question. "I do hope we're not going to argue all the way there."

"I thought to have a discussion. But if you wish to call it an argument, that is your choice. Women in America do have brains, Mr. Taylor. And some of us enjoy using them."

"Look, you're only along on this trip because you're stubborn. Nick and I could just as well have . . . "

"And let you make yourself out to be a knight saving a damsel in distress?" she scoffed.

"As I remember, it was you who sneaked into that room under the auspice of warming yourself by the fire. I didn't get you into this."

"And what was I supposed to do? I was cold!"

"First of all, you shouldn't have been outside in the first place. And second of all, you could just as easily have announced yourself as you eavesdropped."

Mary Kate squirmed in her seat. His beauty did nothing to dampen her rising ire. "Well, Mr. Taylor, we wouldn't be in this mess if you'd have just let them stay the night in jail."

John looked from the road to her, eyes wide open with shock. "Let my friend stay in the clink? Any self respecting gentleman caught in such a position would never let his friend stay overnight in such an establishment let alone his date." John saw the reaction that the emphasis he placed on Flossie had on the girl sitting next to him now.

Mary Kate would rather he slapped her in the face physically than pin her with such scorning words. The sting of her cheek would wear away, but the sting inside was not so easily soothed. She turned in her seat, leaning against the door to watch the road and city as they passed. The rumble of the engine filled the space between them, and neither spoke a word till they stopped for gas some time later.

Nick and John moved around the vehicles to pump the gas while the ladies stepped out to stretch their legs. Nick regarded his friend warily. "You look like you've been sitting on a tack," he commented when they were alone.

John pursed his lips and glared at his friend. "And you look as though you're on holiday."

Nick shrugged. "I am in a way. Lila's quite entertaining. Though I begin to wonder if her voice ever tires."

John rolled his eyes. "That one likes to talk."

"You're having a miserable time with Mary Kate? I thought she rather fancied you."

"And what if she did? She's just a head strong kid with more money than she can shake a stick at."

Nick kept wisely silent, neither of the men realizing that Mary Kate was standing relatively nearby, having heard every word of what was said. She soured further, the cooling breeze escaping her notice entirely. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and walked determinedly back towards the truck. Without a word to either, she climbed into the vehicle and sat staring straight ahead till it was time to pull away.

Mary Kate's mind whirled. Head strong kid? She'd show him head strong kid. She crossed her arms, an invisible thunder cloud roiling over her head as she stared straight forward. She determined not to speak another word for the rest of their trip. At least not to him. Head strong kid.

John stepped back into the truck, slamming the door with a tinny sound and pressing the start. The old thing chugged and clinked to life, bouncing the occupants and, as John pulled out the clutch, started to roll forward.

"We'll stop to eat as soon as we find a place," John said after a few miles, the silence becoming uncomfortable to him. His words being met by silence troubled him further. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the soft lines of Mary Katherine's profile. Her nose turned up at a stiff angle, eyes narrowed, and lips set in a line. Then he noticed the crossed arms, the leg crossed so that she was turned slightly away from him, and the ramrod line of her posture. He sighed. It was going to be a long two days.

Lila resumed her chattering before Nick had both legs in the cab of the truck, and it was all he could do not to laugh. Her vocal prowess, however, was doing the job of keeping him wide awake as he drove. There was no chance of him falling asleep at the wheel.

"So are the others having as much fun as we are?" Lila asked, looping her arm through his and laying her head on his shoulder.

"Not nearly," he smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "They aren't getting on well at all."

"Well, she is really young. And he is really difficult."

Nick laughed. "Usually I'm the difficult one. John says everything is a concerted effort with me."

"Oh? Well I find you quite friendly and obliging," Lila cooed with a giggle.

"Lila," Nick began, clearing his throat, "We haven't discussed any of the sleeping arrangements for the trip. I think we need to be deciding what we'll do about that. Will you and Miss MacGregor be sharing a room?"

Lila's forhead wrinkled as she answered. "Well, to be honest, Nick, I hadn't really thought about it."

Nick breathed a sigh, but he was unsure if it was of relief or anxiety. He'd thought about it--a lot in fact. He'd slept in her flat at least a dozen times, but never in the same room with her. And every time he took her home, he told himself that this time he would not be a gentleman. Yet, each time, he was. She was currently sober. And likely would be for the rest of their trip. That had always been the key in times past. He never wanted her to feel she had been taken advantage of.

"Well, if they're not getting on now, I'm certain there's no way that they would fancy sharing a room. And there's no sense in getting all separate rooms. I'll stay with Miss McGregor."

Nick nodded, this time relieved that the decision had been made for him.

"Are you planning on giving me the silent treatment for the whole trip?" John questioned.

Mary Katherine heard his question clearly but ignored it. If he wanted to see her as a child, she would act it. He could think whatever he wanted of her. She knew the truth.

"Look, I shouldn't have snapped earlier," he admitted. "I'm just a bit riled that any of us are involved in this mess."

She absorbed his words for a moment before answering. "You're right. You shouldn't have. The fact of the matter is that we are in this mess. You don't have to make it any more miserable."

John sighed, unsure as to how to answer her.

Then she mad a frustrated noise and shrugged, angry with herself for breaking the silence. You're as bad as that Lila, she told herself, can't keep silent a full day.

"I'm not making it miserable," John said, "You are."

"Am not!"

"Are too," he said, glaring ahead at the road. "None of this would have happened if you'd just stayed inside that night."

"Oh for Pete's sake! Would you stop trying to blame someone?! The party got raided, and that's why we're in this mess. If you hadn't been at the party flaunting your dance-hall girl with your best pal and his date, then neither of you would have been in this mess! Alright?"

John chewed his lip sullenly.

"What were you doing in that room anyway?" he changed the subject.

"I've told you twenty times," Mary Kate said in frustration. "I was cold. I went in to warm myself."

"Then what were you doing outside? What in blazes possessed you to go outside in that little slip of a frock you were wearing? It barely covered you as was, and you take it outside in the winter?"

She crossed her arms more firmly across her chest as she spoke, biting off each word slowly and deliberately, "I went outside because I couldn't stand the sight of you dancing with that other girl."

Both of them stared straight ahead, Mary Katherine flushed half with anger, half embarrassment.

John pale at the revelation. Finally he spoke, "She was my date, Mary Katherine. I couldn't just ignore her."

Date, she thought, there's that word again. "Then you shouldn't have danced with me at all."

"As I recall, you cut in."

"You didn't have to accept."

"You would have gone away quietly?"

Mary Kate's embarrassment was reaching overwhelming proportion, and she whispered, "You wanted me to go away? You only danced with me to make me go away without making a scene?"

John sputtered trying to make words fit. "No, no! That isn't what I meant! No!"

She had already turned her face away and the back of her head was not easily conversed with. "Mary Katherine," he tried, "I didn't mean that. You twisted my words."

"Well what do you expect from such a head strong child when the only thing she has going for her is that she has more money than she can shake a stick at?" came her muffled reply. Apparently, she had a hand over her face. John would have reached out to her, but the truck was keeping him busy at the gears so he could not.

He sighed painfully and hoped for a place to stop soon.

"Look up ahead," Lila interrupted herself. "There's a little diner."

Nick grinned as she continued on with her story as though she'd never interjected anything, and he turned on his flasher to indicate John to follow him to the roadside restaurant. Lila was thrilled and chattered with excitement about their excursion, slowing only to greet John and Mary Katherine as they tumbled from the cab of their truck. Nick did notice Mary Katherine flying out the passenger door before John had time to come round and open it. Then they entered, were seated, and were faced with a crotchety waitress.

"Oh, so we got honeymooners," she said looking to Nick and Lila. "And we got the old married couple." The sour faced John and Mary Kate were indicated. "We don't hardly get anyone other than bootleggers."

Lila beamed at her as she squeezed Nick's arm. "Well you sure can spot them! My Nickie and I haven't been married long at all!"

"And I feel like I've been cooped up with this one forever," Mary Kate muttered cutting her eyes at John.

"Yeah?" he said. "Well that's two of us, Love." He crossed his arms.

The waitress rolled her eyes and walked away. "Come on you two," Nick said, "We are in an awful mess, and we are going to have to stick together: work as a team. We can't do that with you both fuming."

Mary Kate merely poked out her lower lip and looked away, studying the ceiling fixtures.

The group quieted as the waitress brought their order. "It's getting late. If you all are looking for a place to stop, there's a house just up the road with rooms for rent. You can't be traveling through the night."

Nick nodded gratefully. "Thank you. Resting sounds wonderful now."

She smiled at him, winking. "I'll call over and tell her to ready the rooms for you then. They just love honeymooners. Watch out for the husband though. He's a real charmer."

Lila giggled at the waitress as she left, squeezing Nick's arm once more before. "Well, I guess that changes our plans, doesn't it?"

Nick smirked at her, then peered at the disgruntled pair across the table from him. John had already delved into his meal, and Mary Katherine was lethargically cutting her food into indescribably small pieces. "Can we trust the two of you not to kill one another?"

Neither answered, and Nick was surprised when Lila didn't fill the space with her voice.

"Lila?" he asked. "Hum?"

"You alright?"

"Of course, Goose, why?"

"You're quiet."

She let loose a peal of giggles that would ordinarily have started Mary Kate at least smiling, but in her present mood just made her more sullen.

"John," Nick said, wrapping an adoring arm around Lila, "can you two behave yourselves?"

Before John could answer, Mary Katherine had snorted and rolled her eyes away once more. "I'm just a head strong child. I'm sure he can manage me."

Lila stopped laughing and stared. "Why you're only a couple of years younger than I am, Honey. I'd hardly call a world traveler like you a child."

"Thank you!" Mary Kate said to Lila. "Maybe you should tell that to him." She jerked her thumb at John.

To Nick's expression John explained, "She's well adept at eavesdropping and apparently heard what I was saying back at the petrol stop."

She huffed again and a minor squabble ensued between the two of them that ended with John's index finger pointed smartly in her face, "When you stop acting like a child, I'll stop calling you one."

"I'm not hungry," Mary Katherine said to no one in particular and pushed herself away from the table and walked back out to sit in the truck. John began eating methodically while Nick and Lila stared at him.

"You're not just going to let her go out in the cold and sit are you?" Lila asked with concern.

John shrugged but did not speak.

"Aren't you worried at all?"

"Of what? That the weather might get frostbite from her temperament? No, not at all."

Nick dismissed it all with a shake of his head and urged Lila to finish her meal. She was not happy, but did as Nick suggested, only brightening when John pushed himself away after a few more bites, slapped some bills on the table and stalked outside.

John opened up the passenger door, startling Mary Kate, to his morbid delight, and tossed her coat onto her lap. "You left this inside. I reckoned you'd be too stubborn to come back for it."

She turned her head and huffed.

"Can't you do anything other than make those noises?"

She started to huff again but caught herself. He slammed shut her door, making her jump again, then turned round the back of the truck and tucked himself into the driver side. "We're going to make nice before we go another foot, Sweetheart," he said grimly. "So you can either set yourself to sleep out here in the freezing weather, or you can set yourself to make it pact with me."

She thought for a moment. "Then stop calling me a child."

"Stop acting like one."

"Oh, and I suppose you're the great adult? What about your little tantrums, mood swings, and inability to act like a grown up?"

John drew back at her words. "What temper tantrums? I snapped at you once, I admit. And I apologized for it. But you, Miss McGregor, have been pompous, childish, and pouty the entire trip!"

"Can I help it that I don't treasure transporting liquor during prohibition?"

Nick and Lila finished their meals up relatively quickly. "Do you think it's safe to go out there?" she questioned.

He shrugged, standing from the table to look out the window. He saw the animated gestures the pair was making in the truck. "I dunno. But it doesn't matter. We don't have to travel with them. Let's go on ahead and get settled in. They'll follow along once their ready."

Lila nodded with a smile. "All right."

Nick held out her coat for her, and the pair clarified directions before heading to their truck. As Nick climbed into the driver's side of the cab, he noticed Lila's worried look. "What is it?"

"Shouldn't we at least let them know we're going?"

He smiled, flipping on the headlights. "I think they'll figure it out when we pull past them."

Lila smiled brightly and curled into his warm side. "Oh, I suppose you're right. It's awfully cold in here."

He beamed at her, tapping the horn lightly as they passed John and Mary Katherine before pulling Lila closer to him. "I'll do what I can to remedy that."

John looked away from the fiery sprite across from him to watch as Nick drove past them. "Oh that's just great," he mumbled.

"What?" Mary Kate asked, her teeth beginning to chatter, but still making no move to put on her coat.

"Nothing," John muttered, turning his attention back to the problem at hand. "Now then," his voice calming, "Obviously we've started out on the wrong foot. Tell me, Moxy can we please start over?"

She only looked at him, shivering in earnest now and clenching her muscles to keep it from showing.

"Mary Katherine," he sighed, "I don't see anything to do once I've apologized."

"Do you like me?" she blurted out.

It was John's turn to fall silent. He ran through his brief knowledge of her and decided that apart from the last several hours he had found her in turn intriguing, adorable, witty, and exciting and yes, quite likeable.

"If you had asked me that this morning I would have said yes without hesitation," he finally said, watching as her lower lip began to quiver and wondering if it was from the cold or if she was starting to cry. He reached forward and caught her chin gently between his forefinger and thumb. "Now I will say I like you, but I'm sorry I had to hesitate."

There were tears trembling on her lashes. "Is that what all of this has been about?" he asked softly. "You worried that I don't like your company?"

"Well you've been none too happy to be saddled with me," she cited. "Everything you've said has either been to blame me or to say how vexed you were that I am along." Her clear blue eyes went wide, "I don't relish the idea of running liquor either, John--but--well," she turned her eyes down, and two tears splashed over her cheeks, "I thought it would be nice to be all cooped up with you."

John sighed again and reached over to gather her in his arms as she sniffled. "Silly goose," he whispered fondly. "It would be nice to be all cooped up if the circumstances were different, but they aren't. So let's start all over and make nice, shall we? We'll go find Nick and Lila and then after a night's sleep everything will be alright."

He rubbed her arms briskly and kissed her cheek. "Put the coat on, Darling; you'll freeze otherwise."

Meekly she wriggled into it as he started the truck and puttered down the road to the only standing house in sight, then pulled up alongside Nick's rattle-trap to park.

Within a few moments they were inside, John carrying their respective cases and Mary Katherine blowing onto her hands and stifling a sneeze. Lila met them with a wide smile, and Nick with a nod.

"We've checked you in, Taylors," Nick said, emphasizing the plurality in the surname. "The landlady seemed a bit concerned that we had no wedding bands--obviously unaccustomed to British tradition." Nick gave John a knowing look, and the dark haired man nodded.

"Come on then, Wife," John teased. "Let's go retrieve our room key and settle you in. Can't have you running about at all hours in your condition."

Nick grinned suddenly, and both girls blushed.

"John," Mary Katherine cried, "No!"

"No?" The landlady had walked up at that point.

"She's overtired," John smiled his most charming smile. "It's her condition."

The woman beamed suddenly and set to bustling and cosseting Mary Kate and herded her up to a room insisting that she lie down immediately, leaving Nick, Lila and John laughing quietly in the foyer.

"That's quite a ruse," Nick muttered, seeing they were alone.

John smiled, shrugging at his friend.

"Incorrigible, the both of you," Lila reprimanded, unable to keep a grin from tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Admit it," Nick prodded, nudging her. "You think it's funny."

She grabbed hold of his elbow to keep him from pressing further and gave him a smile.

Before the conversation could progress further, they were joined by a tall, blonde man dressed comfortably in brown slacks and suspenders with a white shirt. His collar hung open, sleeves rolled haphazardly to his elbows. He smiled at the trio, reaching out a hand to John. "Hello," he greeted, his British accent glaring out at the three.

Nick felt his stomach sink and gave a side glance to John. The dark-haired man accepted the newcomer's shake, smiling broadly. "Allo," he replied, emphasizing his own Brummie accent.

"I'm Simon, Ruthie's husband," he introduced. "And who might you be?"

John answered without hesitation. "I'm John Taylor, and these are my friends Nick and Lila Bates."

Simon shook each of their hands as they were introduced. "So you're our borders then? Lovely. My wife was intrigued by the English tradition of no wedding bands that you explained to her. She practically insisted on giving me back my grandmum's band!" He smiled as he spoke, alerting the others that he did find some humor in the situation.

John nodded. "It's amazing what some people don't know about foreign countries."

Simon nodded, gesturing for the others to take a seat. Too worried about being found out to escape the situation, Nick urged Lila to have a seat on the couch in the parlor next to him, while John sat across the room leaving his bags in the foyer. "So what part are you from?" he asked, looking to Nick.

"Birmingham. You sound to be from North London," he pinpointed.

Simon smiled, nodding avidly. "That's right. It's been a long time since I've been home. How's it changed?"

Both the men shrugged, John choosing to answer. "It hasn't. Bout the same as always."

Simon nodded, looking at the three individually. "Well, I'd offer you some tea, but Ruthie said you were just at the restaurant down the way."

"We were," Lila answered, smiling and clinging to Nick's side. "It was lovely."

"It's a right nice place, I reckon," Simon agreed.

Lila stifled a yawn, covering her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry, Mr. . . . " she trailed off.

"Please just call me Simon. And I imagine you must be tired." At this, Simon stood, moving across to the threesome and stopping in front of Lila. "Forgive me for having kept you up so late." He held out a hand to help her up, and she accepted with a blush.

Simon turned to John then. "I'll show you to your room." Without waiting for an answer, he moved to the foyer and picked up one of John's bags and moved toward the stair case.

The others followed suit without question. Simon stopped at a door, setting the case there. "Me and the missus have a room downstairs if you need anything."

John nodded with a polite thank you and reached for the door knob. "Goodnight then."

Simon nodded as well, turning to leave and then stopping. "Remind me to send thanks back to Warren for the business."

Lila, Nick, and John stared back, eyes wide with horror. Nick gulped as she twined her fingers with his.

With a smirk and a chuckle, Simon loped down the stairs, leaving his guests in stunned silence.

John opened the door slowly, wondering what he was going to find.

"It's safe to come in," Mary Kate's voice called out to him.

He smiled and walked in closing the door behind him. "You alright then?"

He found her curled in one of the overstuffed chairs that decorated the room, her stockinged feet tucked up neatly beneath the folds of her dark brown traveling skirt. She was smiling up at him in a way that nearly made him forget the temper that hid behind those wide, blue eyes.

"You mean do I forgive you for telling that woman I was in a delicate condition? I do. Now then, how are we to sleep? There is only the one bed."

John looked uncomfortable suddenly and ran a hand through his hair and shifted.

"I say since we are both adult people we should be able to work this out easily. I've been an awful drag today, and I'd never ask you to sleep in a chair or on the floor since I've been such a pill, but I can't very well sleep in either of those places myself, so there's only one thing for it."

He watched her chatter wondering if she'd been bit by the Lila bug as she unfurled herself from the chair and walked over to the bed and turned down the coverlet. "Which side do you prefer?" she asked.

"Lila," Nick said softly, "Are you certain this will be satisfactory for you?"

She nodded and passed by him to slip behind the dressing screen. Nick sat down on the edge of the bed and loosened his collar, worried over the words Simon had spoken. It was only logical, though, that the only rooming house on the route so far would be in cahoots with the Cucurullo man. He shook his head and bent to untie his wingtip shoes and slipped them off and under the straight backed chair near him.

Hanging his coat on the back, he wondered how much Warren had told Simon about what was really going on, and realized that there was nothing he could do for it. He had just slid his suspenders off his shoulders when Lila stepped back out from behind the screen causing him to catch his breath in a smile.

"Lila," he sighed, "You are a vision..."

She stood before him in a cloud of champagne colored satin that clung to her in a most flattering way. Nick opened his arms to her and then engulfed her in a warm embrace, leaning to kiss her gently before he realized that her hands still hung at her sides.

"Lila," he said, pulling away to find that her eyes were bright and wet, and the corners of her lips turning down. "Luv, what's wrong?"

She simply shook her head and forced a smile "Oh, I'm just being silly is all," she said with a tense cheerfulness.

"No, no, you're not being silly at all. You're frightened. Here now, Precious. Look, you go slip into bed there, and I'll take the settee." Having been given the larger suite as the honeymooning couple, Nick indicated the nicely sized lounge that ran the width of the bed.

He kissed her forehead then turned away to pull back the covers and then tucked her soundly in. "There's a Lamb. You sleep now."

She was uncharacteristically silent, but he was at a loss to aid her, so he simply pulled one of throws from the bed and settled down on the settee willing himself to think of something other than the graceful curve of her collar bones and the tender looking flesh of her throat. With great will, he turned his thoughts to home until he fell into a troubled sleep.

Across the hall, Mary Kate rested warmly in the protection of John's long arms as they lay awake talking quietly.

"So Nick and I came here where we hoped there would be less scrutiny. It was all on the up and up, mind you, but because we had become involved with a shady character, the whole business looked a wreck." He felt her soft head nodding on his shoulder and smiled. "So tell me, why Europe? You were very young to go off traveling with no chaperone, and I deduce from all that I have heard that it is exactly without chaperone that you went."

He heard a small sigh. "At least you were only suspected wrongly of having improper dealings."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, you were an innocent who was suspected of something untrue. My father sent me to Europe because he had suspected something he found to be true."

"Mary?"

"Sometimes, John," she said with no emotion in her voice whatsoever, "Sometimes, here, a family will send a daughter away for a certain span of time so that any damage that might be done to the family reputation can be taken care of outside the scrutiny of the public eye. We are a very public family, you know. My father's reputation is above reproach, as is my mother's.

"Do you know that my mother still calls my father Mr. MacGregor? But that is a side note. My father sent me away because I took him some news that was best kept from everyone. I stayed in Paris with some distant cousins until I was able to come home. Only my father and the family I was with know the real reason for my junket.

"My mother wanted me to go to university, but there was no way that could happen."

John realized he was holding his breath, and he exhaled in a rush. It was only then that he realized that while she had been speaking she had slid from his arms and risen from the bed and now stood away in the darkness.

"Mary Katherine," he said after a space, "Do you want me to draw my own conclusions, or do you want to tell me plainly?"

There was a long silence then she spoke again, "My father sent me away because of my delicate condition at the time. I came home once the condition was delivered."

"What happened to the baby?"

"I don't know."

"I never saw it," she whispered finally. "I don't know what it was. But," she said in a stronger voice, "Whatever way it is with a family that can love it and care for it very well.

"My father asked them to do it that way. He thought it would be easier for me. I'm sure he was right."

"The father?"

"He wouldn't marry me," she said simply.

Another silence filled the room. "Mary," John said, "Come back under the covers, you'll freeze."

Meekly she obeyed and allowed herself to be folded back into his embrace.

"We're quite the dramatic pair, aren't we? Me the expatriate, and you with the dark secret?" He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her. "And now look at us. Pretending to be married folk while running liquor across state lines for the mafia."

She began to giggle a moment later, and John smiled widely then chuckled with her. "Thank you," she said.

He warmed her with another tight squeeze and snuggled her close until he heard her breathing grow regular and deep, only then allowing himself to drift away and then only to be awakened before dawn by an insistent knocking at the door.

"John," Nick was calling, pounding both fists against the wood.

"What? What?" John asked, pulling on his trousers and trying to close his shirt front as he opened the door.

"The trucks are gone! Both of them! Stolen in the night, John!"

"What?!"

"I looked out the window this morning and both trucks are gone!" Nick returned to his room, John following without prompting. The pair stared out the window at the ruts where the truck had been.

John mumbled a few curses, running his hands through his dark hair. He turned away from the window, noting that Lila was still sleeping soundly, buried in a pile of blankets. It was then that he also noticed the tangled blanket on the settee at the end of the bed. He moved out of the room, Nick shadowing him.

"Well, now what are we going to do? We can't very well go to the police," Nick pressed.

"You think I don't know that? How did we manage to sleep through the night and not hear those thunder beasts being driven away?"

Nick glanced over his shoulder at his now closed bedroom door. "I think we both know the answer to that."

John busied himself buttoning his shirt and tucking it in. He moved down the stairs and towards the front door. The pair stood barefoot on the porch, staring at the place where their trucks should've been. John leaned against the railing, not feeling the icy wind whipping around him. "We're stranded. And if Warren doesn't kill us first, we'll be deported."

Nick sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Lovely."

The pair stood in silence, contemplating their bleak future. Both started as the front door opened, producing Simon. His brows were creased as he observed them. "Morning, Mates. What brings you out here fresh out of bed at this hour?"

Nick frowned at him. "The trucks are gone," he answered.

"Is that all?" Simon chuckled.

John turned to the inn keeper, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring. "That's not enough?" he spat. "You know Warren. This is not an average loss."

Simon shook his head, laughing still. "Go get some sleep. Those women of yours must be getting cold."

"There are more important things to worry about," John disagreed.

Simon brushed him off, shaking his head. "It's all under control. Go sleep, get dressed, and join me for breakfast. I think Ruthie mentioned pancakes." With that, he returned to the house.

John and Nick stood silently after they were alone, exchanging glances before John spoke. "It's not just me is it?"

Nick shook his head. "I have the feeling that we're at a distinct disadvantage with that cracker."

John nodded, and the pair returned to the house. "You fairing all right?" he questioned Nick.

He shrugged ahead of John on the stairs. "She's beautiful."

John chuckled. "You're just now figuring this out?"

Nick surprised his friend by not laughing. He turned at the top of the stairs to face John. "No, she's so beautiful that I couldn't stop thinking about her. And I don't know what is keeping me at bay."

John sized up his friend without a word.

Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, Nick changed the subject. "How is Miss McGregor?"

John smiled fondly, glancing at his feet. "She's doing much better."

The pair parted in awkward silence into their respective rooms. Lila stirred as Nick came in. She looked confused. "What are you doing up?"

He sighed. "There's a bit of trouble," he admitted.

Lila frowned, patting the bed in invitation. He sat on the edge opposite her as she reached for his hand. "What's . . . You're freezing! Come here," she mothered.

Nick complied without hesitation, curling into her embrace.

"Mercy! where have you been?"

"Outside."

"What were you doing out there?"

"The trucks are gone," he admitted in a monotone drone.

Lila sat up straight, the covers falling away from her. "What?! What happened?"

Nick closed his eyes, doing his best to put her form out of his mind. "Simon says we're fine," he rushed out. "Lila?"

"Yeah?"

"Lay back down, please."

Still out of sorts, she laid back down, placing her head on the pillow. He pulled the covers back over her shoulders. She frowned. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Pet, you haven't done anything wrong besides being exceptionally beautiful." He opened his eyes to watch her blush, running a hand along her cheek. "It's not your fault. I just . . . well, seeing you like this puts a terrible strain on my being a gentleman, and in no way would I ever seek to make you uncomfortable."

She smiled, holding his hand against her cheek and staring at him. "A terrible strain," she grinned up at him. "Terrible? I'm not sure I like that word. Tell me it is a wonderful strain."

Nick laughed in spite of himself and stroked her cheek. "You are the incorrigible one, you know it?"

She nodded sagely and kissed his open palm. "That's why you like me so well. We're peas in a pod!"

He shook his head fondly and pulled his hand away to tuck the covers more tightly about her. "Go back to sleep, Lila. I'll wake you later."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to lie back down here," he said, stretching out beside her and lifting one arm over her bundled form and nestling down into the pillow. "And," he yawned. "Go back to sleep myself."

John frowned to himself as he walked back toward the old brass bed and lowered himself back into it's body molding depths. He pulled the covers up over his shoulder and curled himself back around Mary Kate's warmth.

"Did you find the trucks?" she murmured.

He kissed the back of her head. "Simon knows where they are," he said, not wanting to further alert her.

"Nick sounded horribly agitated," she said, sleep heavy in her voice as she leaned back against him.

John smiled, "Nick is very easily agitated." He buried his face in her cool smelling hair, kissing the nape of her neck as he did then trailing his lips lightly over the fabric of the sleeping dress that covered her shoulder.

She turned in his arms and met his lips with her own. "How does Simon know where the trucks are?" she asked out of the kiss.

John laughed startled and drew back slightly, loosening his tightening embrace. "I forgot you missed the exchange last night. He knows Warren."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. John felt a warm foot slid between his own, exploring his toes and arches. He said nothing but smiled and opened his hands on her back finding himself surprised at the delicacy of her frame having forgotten that in spite of her fiery temper and tendency toward volume, she was reed thin. He suddenly found himself wondering if he had been introduced to the real Mary Katherine MacGregor, or if he had only been acquainted with the persona that had been left after the ravages of her past.

Lips on his throat startled him further and brought him completely back to the present. "Mary Kate," he whispered. "What are you doing?"

She turned her face up to his. "I was kissing your throat, Mr. Taylor."

"That's what I thought."

"Were you asking because you were unsure, or because it was a polite way of asking me to stop?"

"I'm not all that polite, Miss MacGregor."

"I'm not all that good at interpreting hints, Mr. Taylor."

"Then what if I offer you an impolite hint?"

"I'll do my best to decipher."

John lowered his lips to hers and drew her closer, hearing a few moments later, "I think I understand that."

"Rise and shine, Bateses," Nick heard bellowed cheerily through his door. "Come down for breakfast!"

He could hear the knock on the door across the hall. "Taylors, breakfast is nearly on the table. Do join us, please!"

Nick guided Lila down the stairs once they were both dressed and presentable to find the landlord and his lady already seated at a large, round, wooden table. The center of the table was heavy laden with jams, fresh churned butter, marmalade, preserves, fresh bread, and new milk. A small bowl of blackberries sat at each of the six place settings. Lila's eyes brightened at the cheery atmosphere and she dimpled at the couple already seated.

"Good morning," Ruthie smiled at her, "You rested well, I trust?"

Simon winked, "What rest, Luv? They're our honeymooners!"

Lila blushed, and Nick wrapped his arm around her proudly. "Indeed," he said, "And we found the accommodations quite to our liking."

They sat talking amiably for a time before Ruthie stood. "I imagine your friends will be down soon, so I'll just get started on those pancakes."

"Actually," Nick said, "I'll just go up and see what's keeping them. Not like John to miss breakfast." He stood and kissed the top of Lila's head and then made his way back up the stairs.

"So, Newlywed," Simon grinned wickedly, "were the accommodations truly to your liking?"

Lila's eyes went wide and her cheeks stood out with flags of bright red, "Why, Mr.--, uh -"

"Simon," he provided.

"Mr. Simon," she said stupidly, "Everything was lovely."

Nick tapped at the door that hid his friend and listened. The urgent whispers he heard before John's voice calling out, "Yes?", told him all he needed to know and he smiled.

"Breakfast is waiting on the two of you," Nick called through the door, "Shall I tell them not to wait?"

"We'll be down presently," John replied, and then Nick heard the whispers again punctuated by a feminine sigh. He turned away.

"Seems we aren't the real honeymooners," Nick murmured in Lila's ear as he moved to sit back down at the table.

That was enough to take her mind off her own embarrassment. "What?" she said with her jaw slack.

Nick grinned and wrinkled his nose at her. "You're very beautiful, you know it?" he said.

She blushed again, happy that Simon had gone on to join his wife at the stove and was no longer scrutinizing her.

"Truly, darling," Nick said, brushing her cheek with his lips.

It was nearly a quarter hour later, and the very last of the stack of pancakes was coming off the griddle when John and Mary Katherine appeared, hand in hand regarding one another fondly. "Save us anything? or are we too late?" John asked, his dark hair still tousled (or freshly tousled, Nick thought), and his tie askew in a school-boyish sort of way. Ruthie smiled crookedly at him, forgetting the skillet she held, caught in his charmingly crinkled grin.

Simon grabbed it out of her hand before she could burn herself and set it deftly back further on the stove. "There's a Luv," he laughed, "Can't resist those dark eyes. Never could. How I talked her into marrying me, I'll never know."

He seemed to suddenly see Mary Katherine and realize that she'd not been among the group he had met before, "And who is this bright faerie?" he asked, turning on his charm.

"I am Mrs. Taylor," Mary Kate said somewhat icily, with enough of a smile to let him know he was on thin ice with his flirtations. "And you are?"

"Mr. LeBon," he said, startled into the disclosure of his surname.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir," she said formally and then slipped into the chair John pulled out for her, missing the look he exchanged with his green-eyed friend over her head.

Nick winked at him understanding the look, and then became suddenly interested in his breakfast.

"So," John said, seating himself. "About our trucks?"

"Ah, yes, the trucks," Simon said, leaning back in his chair. Ruthie forked hot cakes onto John and Mary Katherine's plates, then speared the last three to her husband. "You see, Mates, I believe I understand the situation you're in, having been in it myself. You get caught up in one of Cucurullo's schemes, and here you are. Running shine across state lines. Nasty habit, that.

"So I said to myself, why not help them out? I rang up my old contacts, and I had them transport the shine for you. Now alls you have to do is pick up the car you hired to run you back to the City." He looked obscenely proud of himself.

"Very nice," said John, "but how do we know it all got there?"

Nick, who had just begun to feel relieved at not having to finish the run, was suddenly alert and concerned.

"Don't trust me?"

"Sorry, Mate, I don't even know you. I'd like some proof that my hide's not going to be had over this."

"After breakfast I'll ring up one of the fellows at a cross point. He'll be able to give you time and how of the trucks' journey past him. Good-o?"

"Jolly," said John, tucking in to his pancakes.

Mary Katherine was regarding Simon through narrowed eyes, still not satisfied with his answer. "If, Mr. LeBon, you are being so kind and helpful, then why didn't you say something beforehand?"

"I wanted to do you a surprise," he smiled, "And the name is Simon."

"So it is," Mary Kate replied, "But until I've known you for more than a day, Mr. LeBon, I shan't be so familiar. And surprise us you did. Scared us half out of our wits more the like. I should like very much to know exactly how you are connected with Mr. Cucurullo, and how, if you've been out of the business, you still maintain a working acquaintance with his contact men."

John, Nick and Lila had all stopped eating, their forks halfway to their mouths, and they were gaping at Mary Katherine.

"Well, Miss MacGregor," Simon intoned, "while I no longer have a connection with Mr. Cucurullo proper, I do have a connection with some gentlemen who are very interested in him. Are you familiar with the name Randolph Walters?"

"I am," Mary Kate said, brushing aside the knowledge of her name. "He's running for Senate."

"Yes," Simon smiled, "Very good. Do you know his opponent?"

"I do."

"Very good. Then you understand his vested interest in knowing of Mr. Cucurullo's contacts."

"So what do you really want with us?" Her three traveling companions had lowered their forks.

"Surely you understand why both parties would have a vested interest in your little self."

"I think they are interested in my father, not in myself. And you still haven't explained..."

Simon sighed, interrupting her, "I wanted to help you four out of a pickle. I've gotten the goods far away from you so that when Walters shows up here, the worst thing he can construe is that you've decided to take holiday from your high society reputation. You're welcome to thank me anytime."

John put a hand on her arm before she could speak again, "Surely you understand our concern, Simon. Miss MacGregor is understandably overwrought, as I'm sure you might be in her stead. We do thank you for your aid, but again, only wish to be certain that we aren't being put in further danger."

Simon smiled and nodded, "Just wait a bit, and I'll call my man. You'll see all is put dead to rights."

Nick shuddered involuntarily. He didn't like that word dead.

Once breakfast was truly on the table, Simon's chatter came to a halt, and he devoured his meal. The others were grateful for the moment's peace, but still a bit too unsettled to consume with the same voracity as their host. Ruthie cleared her throat, catching Simon's eyes with her own. He stared up at her mid-bite for a long second.

Ruthie looked to her guests. "You'll have to forgive him. He forgets himself sometimes."

Simon took his bite and chewed it up quickly. "I do not. I just have no use for impressing people. You love me no matter how I am," he smiled, winking at Ruthie as he did.

She smiled at her husband, looking back down to her plate and missing the glance that Lila gave to Nick. Nick however, was staring with morbid fascination at Simon's obvious lack of manners, wondering how anyone could ever get on with him. Mary Katherine stared as well for different reasons, as a disturbing sense of familiarity overwhelmed her. Yet, no matter how she angled her gaze at him, she could not rationalize the feeling.

Simon was quick to finish his meal. "Look at you all not eating," he pointed out. He sighed then, standing from the table. "Will you feel better if I call my mate and get the information that everything's all right?"

"Yes," John answered, cutting another strip of pancakes on his plate.

Simon grinned and pushed himself away from the table, "Then I'll be about that just now," he said, "before you all die of fright. All but for the fearless Miss MacGregor." He offered her a conspiratory smile, and she drew back with a scowl.

His laughter lingered even after he'd left the room. "Forgive him," Ruthie sighed. "He's a rake and a rogue, but Lord knows I love him. Lord knows why I love him—I can't figure it out." They all laughed, and Ruthie looked pleased with herself.

"Breakfast is delicious," Lila complimented, her chatter restored with her spirits. "Do you use buttermilk in your batter?"

"I use milk and a dash of heavy cream." Ruthie said, her eyes glowing with pride. "And just a drop or two of my secret ingredient."

"Oooh," Lila cooed. "A secret ingredient! What is it?"

"A secret," Mary Kate said, pushing food around in her plate, struggling to remember why Simon seemed so familiar.

Ruthie laughed. "Why bless your soul, yes! But, Mrs. Bates, the secret ingredient is a few drops of rum."

"Rum! Why that is just as clever as I've ever heard!"

Lila and Ruthie began an earnest discussion of recipes while Mary Katherine looked on with little interest. Nick and John excused themselves to find Simon and hear the details of the stolen trucks' whereabouts.

Simon was sitting in the living room beside the phone, his face the color of cold gravy. "I have some bad news," he said, seeing them enter.

"What?" John's eyebrows shot up and Nick turned his head to be certain Lila could not hear.

"Seems my blokes decided to go into business for themselves with your trucks." He held out his hands plaintively. "I don't know what to tell you, Mates. They've always been honest about it before."

"Before?" John's voice was a warning. "You've done this before?"

"Several times," Simon said with a nod. "We are a stopping place for all kinds of adventure. Me and the wife got out of the business ourselves, and now we do what we can to help out other folk who seem in danger of becoming what we were."

John was shaking his head, his long fingers squeezing his dark hair. "What are we going to do now?"

"I suggest waiting. Never know. They'll have to take the stuff to the same endpoint, and by that time it'll have sorted itself out."

Nick watched John's anger rise exponentially so he tried to shift the focus. "Simon," he drawled, "You knew Miss MacGregor's name. I'd like to know how."

"Oh that?" Simon chuckled, "I took the wife to Paris last year for the anniversary. Miss MacGregor was all over the place. Bloody everywhere."

John's attention was turned, and he looked to Simon with surprise. "You knew Mary Kate when she was in Paris?"

"Who didn't? She's not exactly the wallflower, now, is she? Yeah, I told the wife she looked familiar so I took a shot on the name, and sure enough! Now we never met properly, mind you, just seeing her at all the theatres and gin joints, you know."

John's brows knit in confusion, "You mean she was out and about all the time...in that condition?"

"Say, sure. Always in that condition, Mate. Never saw her without a drink in her hand and at least three sloop eyed boys in tow." Simon laughed. "I was even there one night when they arrested the minx! Disorderly conduct. Do you know how difficult it is to be charged with disorderly conduct in Paris?"

Nick was gaping, and John's breathing was constricted, his hands clenching at his sides.

"She flashed her knickers at some gendarmes and he took her right into the clink. Lovely knickers, I'll say," Simon smiled, "I was standing behind the gendarmes." He winked at John. "But I reckon you know all there is to know about those particular knickers."

Before Nick could think, speak, or stop him, John's arm flashed forward and his fist connected with Simon's sturdy jaw. In a matter of moments the two were in a clench, each one throwing punches as best he was able until the women ran in and their cries broke it up.

John stepped backwards wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and Simon flipped his hair back out of his eyes and pranced in place, his fists still balled up tightly.

"Simon John Charles LeBon!" Ruthie exclaimed "What on earth are you doing attacking our guests?! They'll never board here again!"

Simon was preparing to lunge forward at John when Ruthie's words hit his ear, and he stumbled just a bit, then stepped back and hung his head. Ruthie swatted him and turned him out of the room clucking and fussing like an angry chicken. Mary Kate ran over to John.

"You're bleeding!" She pulled out her handkerchief and pressed it to his lip gently. "What happened?"

John refused to answer Mary Katherine right off. She pressed a bit too hard at his split lip, and he winced, backing away from her. "Enough," he demanded.

She crossed her arms over her chest, staring hard at him. "Mr. Taylor, I sincerely doubt that our host started that. Won't you tell me what happened?"

John shared a conspiratorial glance with Nick for a moment before the shorter of the two ushered Lila towards the parlor to give the other pair a moment's privacy. Once alone, John turned apologetic eyes to Mary Katherine. "He just said something horrible, is all," John admitted.

"Like what?" she prodded, pulling John to the bench nearby.

He sighed, unsure of what to tell her till the words were falling from his lips. "He said some awful things about Lila that I just couldn't abide by."

She pursed her lips, watching strands of his russet hair fall loosely over his eyes. She reached out a hand, pushing it away from his face and tucking the tendrils behind one of his ears. "Defending her honor?" she questioned as a smile rose to her lips. Just as suddenly it faded. "Why you and not . . . "

John lifted an eyebrow at her and looked in the direction that the pair had gone. "Do you really have to ask? Nick's idea of defending someone is smart mouthing them till he gets the brunt of their fist in his nose."

Mary Katherine smiled fully then, covering her lips with her fingertips to hide the laughter. "Well, next time do you suppose you might try to defend honor without choosing the inn keeper or some other person who holds authority over us?"

John smiled, lost in her gaze, leaning down to brush a light kiss against her lips. He winced slightly at the contact, but drew away with a smile just the same.

She returned the gesture, comfortable with her hand encased by his. "Let me get some ice from Ruthie before that turns ugly."

John nodded and watched her head off towards the kitchen.

Nick was pacing in front of Lila, who sat watching wide-eyed on the settee. "Nick, won't you sit and tell me . . . "

He frowned, stopping and sitting next to her, his thoughts all jumbling over one another. "If I tell you, you can't breath a word of what was said, yes?"

Lila nodded, seeking to catch his verdant gaze unsuccessfully.

Nick sighed, looking at her then. "Simon . . . he said some awful things about Miss McGregor. Things that I would be ashamed to repeat. And it angered John so much that he lost control of himself in the defense of her honor."

She drew back at his words. "How horrible! I don't mean to pry, but I must admit my curiosity at what words would have provoked your friend to physical violence."

"He was tarnishing her reputation with information that must so obviously be false that it was ludicrous. I don't know what possessed him to say such things. He was speaking under the guise that he knew her prior to her visit here."

Lila's brows furrowed at Nick's words. "Well, he did seem to call our hand at this game, as well as know her name without being told."

Nick watched her face wrinkle with thought and concern. He reached a hand to caress her cheek, loving how her face turned into his touch. "Don't worry yourself over it, Lamb. We shan't be here much longer, and this will all be a happy memory."

She returned a weak smile. "All right. I'll make the best of it. I wouldn't want Miss McGregor to be shamed any further. I won't breath a peep."

"That's a love," he smiled, slipping his fingers behind her ear to tuck the hair away from her face. "We'll make the best of this little holiday. Perhaps we'll find ourselves a little cozy and imbibe in the amber colored liquids a bit this eve?"

She smiled. "Do you suppose they have any darling little glasses?"

"I'll see what I can find," he promised.

Mary Katherine stood stock still listening in horror. Passing the parlor on the way to the kitchen she had heard Nick's explanation to Lila for the short brawl. As the blood drained from her face, she realized why their innkeeper looked so familiar, and she swallowed hard against the lump of guilt and fear that rose up in her throat.

Realizing she'd stood still for too long, she found Ruthie, obtained the ice and then set to nursing John's wound, all the while her head whirling, wondering what the LeBon fellow had said about her. It was obvious to her that John had lied to spare her feelings, for Nick was too detailed, and it was all too coincidental for the handsome man's fib to be the truth.

She felt a wave of hopelessness and self disgust wash over her when she thought about the tall tale she'd offered John the night before. Why, she asked herself in agony, why did she tell him that she had been sent over to Paris to hide that she was in the family way?

Well, she reasoned quickly, I never actually said that I had a baby. I let him draw all the conclusions. She shook her head.

"Something the matter?" John asked over the ice she held softly to his swelling lip.

"Oh," she said, startled, "I am just so upset over your lip. Why, yours has to be the most perfect mouth I've ever seen, and now it's just smashed to pieces."

John laughed loudly and then winced, chuckling as he did, "Smashed to pieces, eh? Is that what you think?"

Mary Katherine's lashes fluttered against her cheek and she looked down, "Well," she grinned, "Not really. But it is awfully swollen and a bit raw looking."

"You should see the other guy," John teased.

"I did. And not a bit the worse for wear. You should pick on boys who aren't your own size."

John laughed painfully. "You're a cold woman, Mary Katherine MacGregor."

"Perhaps I need warming."

"I'll find you a wrap," John said.

She smiled up at him, caught for a moment in what appeared to be an adoring stare as his eyes swept fondly over her features. She was stricken with another wave of self loathing and disgust, and grimaced involuntarily as nausea washed over her in conjunction.

"Mary Kate," John asked with concern, taking her by the shoulders as she leaned over him.

"I think I need to lie down," she said weakly. "I'm not feeling well."

She handed him the ice, refusing his aid, and climbed the stairs to slink between the covers of the bed where she began to cry into the pillow bitterly. He was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. He was the most intriguing man she'd ever met. She was drawn to him in a way that she'd never expected in her life, and she had just told him a life altering lie.

A little voice inside said to tell him the truth, but since she could offer no explanation for the lie, she was afraid to uncover herself. Another voice said to play it out. Whatever Simon said, she knew she could twist his words around and make him out to be the blackguard. In fact, John and Nick already thought him a cad; it wouldn't be so grand a mistake.

The first voice scolded her for even thinking so, and it brought a fresh onslaught of tears. She sobbed soundlessly in remorse until she was compelled to hold her head over the basin, racked with dry heaves. And that was where John found her when he finally walked into the room, cursing himself for having given her what he thought was ample time to compose herself and then ready herself for the lie down.

She was hiccupping and choking, her pale skin blotched red and damp, and when she saw him enter she began to cry in earnest. He was too, too, too perfect, she thought in her self induced hysteria. She cast herself as the evil vixen preying on the innocent Englishman.

John only knew that she'd said she was ill, and now she was obviously distraught, so he collected her into his arms and carried her into the bed, laying her on her side and rubbing her back with his warm hand until her breathing became less ragged and the hiccups subsided. "There's a love," he murmured gently in repetition. "There's a good girl."

Over the course of the day, Nick went along with Simon to town to send word to Warren, insisting that John stay behind for Mary Katherine's sake. Lila stayed to chat with Ruthie, both enamored with each other's company.

John joined the conversation in the parlor mid morning, looking for a momentary escape from Mary Katherine's silence. Lila regarded him with a sympathetic smile.

"How is she, Mr. Taylor?" Ruthie questioned.

John shrugged. "I dunno what's wrong. She's just been so upset that I haven't the heart to ask her about it."

Silence fell over them for a moment before Lila spoke up. "How fares the gallant Mr. Taylor then?"

John smiled weakly at her. "I think I can manage. I thought maybe to get a spot of tea to sooth her throat."

Ruthie jumped up from her chair. "Oh, of course! I've heard the poor dear crying. I can't imagine what's gotten her so upset."

Lila stiffened in her chair, glad that she had no eye contact with John. She started to stand to join Ruthie in the kitchen, when he placed a hand on her arm. "Oh, please stay for a bit," he begged.

Ruthie stopped in the door way. "Oh, yes, I'll be fine! I wouldn't dream of having a guest in the kitchen anyway," she smiled, encouraging Lila to remain seated.

Seeing no other options, Lila forced on a smile and lowered herself into her chair. John took a spot opposite her and sat staring until she began to squirm in his scrutiny. "Mr. Taylor," she finally spoke. "Your stare makes me uncomfortable."

John leaned his elbows on his knees, pressing his fingers together and looking at the woman across the room from him. "Forgive me then, but Miss Montrose, it's veritably clear to me that you are privy to some information that might be useful to me."

"What makes you say that?" Lila balked, her voice squeaking as she spoke.

John chuckled. He saw easily why Nick enjoyed her company so. She was honest. Even her emotions rang true, no matter if she wanted them to or not. What struck him more humorous was that she had no trouble convincing anyone that she was Mrs. Nicholas Bates. "Lila, you'll feel better if you'll just tell me what's troubling you," he finally spoke.

Lila breathed a sigh, frowning with concern. "Well, it's just that Nick said that I wasn't to breath a word of it."

John's brows raised. "Did he tell you what happened with Simon?" John pressed quickly, hoping to have another moment before Ruthie returned.

Lila nodded somberly. "Don't tell him I told you. He didn't want to, but he needed to."

John nodded, deep in thought, and the pair remained silent till John spotted Ruthie heading towards the stairs with a tray in hand. "Oh, no. Let me," he offered, rushing to take the tray from her.

"Are you sure?" Ruthie pushed. "I don't mind one bit. You've been tending to her all morning."

John smiled weakly at her. "No, I don't mind at all. Just ask my mum."

Ruthie giggled at the joke, surrendering and watching him make his way up the stairs. The innkeeper returned to her guest. "He's a saint, that one."

Lila smiled. "They're perfect for each other, actually," she admitted, feelings of guilt intruding on her as she thought of Flossie. She sighed, keeping her thoughts to herself and picked up the conversation that John had interrupted.

* * *

"You don't think we'll get caught?" Lila giggled as Nick led her to the barn behind the house.

He smiled, lifting her hand to place a kiss at the back of it. "No worries, Love. I don't think Simon will mind our little rendezvous." He pushed the door open just enough for her to slip in ahead of him, unable to force the smile off of his face.

Lila stood just inside the doorway, too frightened to move in the pitch blackness. "Nick?" she whispered.

"Just a moment," he replied.

Lila waited, hearing the sounds of Nick moving agilely about her until suddenly, the room lit with the warm glow of an oil lamp. Nick was smiling in its light, and Lila melted at the sight. Her gaze encompassed the little stool covered with a handkerchief and set with a pair of glasses. "Nick!" she squealed, a smile covering her face. "Wherever did you find them! They're darling!" She moved to pick up one of the glasses, admiring it as he set the light on the stool.

"Got them while we were in town today. It was all I could find." He opened a flask and poured liquid into the glass she held.

She smiled, watching as he poured his own glass then. "It's perfect. I wouldn't want any other glass than this."

Nick drank in the features of her face as he lifted his glass to toast hers. "To a lovely evening and an even lovelier companion."

Lila had nothing to add, agreeing with him whole heartedly. She sipped a mouthful and stared. "This was so sweet of you, Nick. I'm touched."

Nick lowered himself to the blanket he'd placed there after dinner that evening. Patting the place next to him, he watched as she moved to sit.

* * *

John and Simon passed the evening with a game of cards, Mary Katherine having asked for a bit of time to herself. "Where in the world did Nick disappear to?" John fussed.

Simon smirked. "He's out somewhere with his girl."

John frowned at the answer. He had anticipated the question to be rhetorical. But the idea that his friend had confided in someone else agitated him more than he expected. "What makes you think that?"

"Besides the fact that they've both been missing since dinner, I watched him while we were out today. Had some errands he said he wanted to run and brought back a few packages."

John lifted a brow, but said nothing, laying his hand of cards on the table. "Well, I'm going to retire for the evening if you don't mind."

Simon nodded, collecting the cards and shuffling them into a neat stack. "All right then. We'll see about getting your car in the morning."

John nodded and moved off to his room. He pushed the door open softly so as not to disturb Mary Katherine as the room was dark. He pushed it closed behind him and reached to turn on the light. The still fresh bed and missing case disturbed him immediately. The note atop the covers did him in. John rushed out of the room and down the steps, nearly running into Simon at the foot.

"Where's the fire?" Simon grumbled.

"It's Mary Katherine. She's gone." John had the note still clutched in his fist as he rambled. He pushed past Simon to the coat rack, silently berating himself for not having noticed her missing coat before.

Then the thought hit him that at least she remembered to take her coat as he dashed out the door and out into the street. He groaned fondly, and with relief, to spot Mary Katherine's forlorn posture as she was making her way out of sight and then started running toward her calling her name.

He watched with amusement as she slowed, then picked up her pace on the desolate road, as though there were someplace she could hurry away to and escape. He caught up to her quickly.

"Mary Katherine MacGregor," he scolded with a smile, "You worried me out of my mind when I saw that note. Thank all that's holy our trucks are gone or you'd have been far away. Now where do you think you are going?"

"Home," she sniffled violently, "I'm going home! And you can't stop me!"

"No?"

"No!" She started walking again, then began to scream and wail as John lifted her up neatly and tossed her over his shoulder, taking her case in his other hand as he did.

He ignored her cries and the startled faces of their innkeepers as he strode purposefully into the house and up the stairs, through the bedroom door and deposited her, once more, on the bed.

John knelt in front of Mary Katherine, his hands resting on her knees, and he looked up at her. "Now then, we'll have no more of this running away. I want to know what's wrong Mary Kate. You aren't moving until I do."

She tried to look away but she was caught in those deep brown eyes. "I can't. You'll hate me."

He softened his smile with concern, "So you'd rather run away and hurt me?"

She sighed dramatically, "I can't help but hurt you, John--anyone who comes near me gets hurt." Her mouth turned down when he burst out laughing. "Don't laugh!"

"You goose!" John lifted himself to his feet and pressed his lips to her cool cheek. "Well then, you can stay here until you feel like talking." With that he turned from the room and Mary Katherine could hear him turning the key in the lock as he left.

She ran to the door knob and struggled to open the door to no avail, and John descended the stairs to the sounds of her angry demands to be released. He pocketed the key with a smile to Simon. "Still got those cards, Mate?" he asked.

* * *

Lila was giggling uncontrollably, and Nick's pink cheeks were tell tale signs of his state. "I never thought I'd be having a romantic evening in a barn," Lila said, standing from the blanket. "Why I feel just like Cinderella." With that she promptly fell over, toppling onto Nick.

"Hi," she giggled.

"Well 'ello Miss Montrose," Nick tried to say formally, his slur ruining the effect.

Lila just giggled and tittered until, in slow motion, Nick brought his face forward to hers and pressed his lips against her mouth.

"Oh, Mr. Bates," Lila whispered into his kiss, "Why I do declare--"

The rest of her sentence was cut off with the soft pressure of his hand on the back of her head, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her sweetly.

The sudden crash of thunder along with the lightning that slashed across the sky startled Lila so that she fell backwards declaring her surprise, one hand fluttering over her heart. Nick blinked and wove as he sat before toppling over beside her.

"That was a boomer," he said, but his voice was drowned out by another clap of thunder, and suddenly the barn was alive with the sounds of the rainstorm.

Rain pelted the roof and north side of the barn causing the stalled animals to knicker, whinny and kick. Lila had been absolutely unaware of their company until the first sputtering horse began to snort.

Sleeping chickens awoke and squawked their displeasure, and the rooster flapped over to the light of the oil lamp, seeking out the comfort, making Lila scream as she leapt to her feet, dancing backwards to avoid the strutting Bantam.

In a surge of heroism, Nick placed himself between Lila and the onslaught of frightened chickens, drunkenly trying to fend them off and thinking to himself that he did not want to die at the hands of fowl. Feet of fowl. Talons of fowl? He was confused.

"Lila," he said, over the sounds of clucking, thunder, and rain, "Climb up that ladder there. Chickens can't fly!"

At his urging Lila climbed unsteadily up the rickety wooden ladder, her high heels keeping her feet from sliding forward, and then disappeared over into the hay loft. Nick might have enjoyed the vision above him had he not been feeling the full affects of the brandy and the rush of terror brought on by the now angry rooster. He followed the soles of Lila's shoes into the loft.

"Thank heaven," he exclaimed into the darkness.

"Oh, Nick," Lila said sadly, "We've gone and left the lamp down there." At the sound of breaking glass she cried, "And my beautiful little glass!"

* * *

Mary Katherine pursed her lips and stopped yelling. He obviously was not going to open the door. Well, she would show him, she thought, walking to the window and pushing it open wide. The wooden frames slammed and clattered against the shutter as the wind blew them back and rain came sheeting inside. She pulled herself up onto the ledge of the tall window and leaned forward, rather ungracefully, water spattering her face and stinging with the force of the gale blasts. Just as she decided to forgo her plans a loud clap of thunder startled her, and she fell forward sharply, narrowly grasping hold of a tree branch.

She hung there, one shoe dangling from a foot with wide, frightened eyes. Grunting with the effort, Mary Katherine pulled herself up so that her forearms were over the limb, and kicked wildly until she was able to find a leafy foothold. She was now dripping wet and being pelted with more cold water every moment. She glared angrily out from under her limp hair and tried to shake the rivulets of water from her face. Having given herself time to breathe, she strained and kicked once more until she had straddled the large branch she held to, then pulled herself into a standing position.

She teetered there for a moment, one patent leather pump and one now mangled stocking on the other bare toed foot, before kicking off the other shoe. In her effort to remove the shoe without letting go of the branch above her head she misjudged her security and suddenly found herself falling through branches until a jarring yank left her dangling by the waistband of her skirt only ten feet shy of the ground. Dazed, she blinked and looked around then began to frown.

The limb that caught on her waistband was out of reach. When she wriggled too much she began to slip. She felt she was a nasty mess of cuts and scrapes, and an even nastier mess of leaves, torn stockings, and ravaged frock. Not to mention her hair. And now how was she going to get down? As she hung there, the storm beating down on her back, she swore to herself that if John would only come and rescue her she would tell him everything. The whole truth. She would hold nothing back. All she wanted was to get down from that tree.

"Hey," she shouted over the rain as a stray, wet dog came sniffing by one of her shoes, "Get away from that! Go on!"

The dog barked at her and began leaping up, snapping at her dangling toes as she shrieked and cried out. Finally, bored with her feet, the dog picked up the shoe, worried it severely, then trotted away, happy with his find.

Lila belly crawled to the edge of the loft, peering downward at the squawking animals. Her pouting lip didn't escape Nick's notice, and he laid next to her, placing an arm on her back. "I'll get you another glass, pet," he promised.

She smiled at him, her flushed cheeks glowing in the dim light of the oil lamp far below. "You will?"

He nodded with a smile. Pressing a soft kiss to her lips, he felt a slight pressure wiggling over his foot, and pulled Lila closer to himself. He liked the uncertain but insistent rubbing she was administering across his ankle. When he felt her toe begin up the cuff of his trouser leg, he pulled away, surprised but not unpleasantly. "Lila," he murmured with an admonishing tone.

"What?" she slurred.

"You're pretty little toes . . . " he mumbled feeling them slide a bit higher up his pant leg. "I didn't know you'd taken off your shoes."

"But I haven't," she giggled, pulling away to sit up. She wiggled her still shoed feet and smiled. "See? I wouldn't dare let go my favorite shoes."

Nick raised up on one elbow, watching her feet move back and forth. "Well, if you're toes aren't in my trousers then . . . " He stopped mid-sentence feeling the object slither up to his knee, and in an instant, he was screaming at the top of his lungs.

From inside the house, everyone heard the screaming. Simon was the first to respond, looking outside, and seeing the barn doors flapping open to reveal a light within. John descended the stairs directly behind him, and Ruthie watched the men from the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. "There's your bloody friend. I just hope he hasn't upset the horses or they'll be barging down the stalls any moment," Simon grumbled.

He and John grabbed their coats, throwing them on as they ran towards the barn. When they entered, neither was quite sure that they should have answered the cries.

"Sorry," Simon yelled up towards the frantic pair in the loft. Lila and Nick were both screaming now, obviously very inebriated according to the pair of bottles empty on their sides amid the swarm of chickens. He reached down to pick up the lantern and set it out of the way, when Nick yelled.

"There's a snake in my trousers!" he yelped.

John raised an eyebrow. "Um, yeah, we know, Nick. Remember?" he questioned his flush faced friends. "All of us do."

"No, I mean . . . I have a literal snake . . . "

"Let me help!" Lila offered, and in one neat motion, she'd pulled his trousers off him, jumping back and shrieking.

Simon and John exchanged glances, Simon being the first to speak. "Is he always like this?"

John shook his head. "No. Doesn't usually imbibe quite so much either."

Simon nodded. "I'll give them a look see and make sure everything's okay." He moved to the ladder and shimmied it's length quickly, finding Nick panting in relief and Lila huddled opposite him, both staring at the trousers between them. Simon set the lantern on the hayloft floor, watching the piece of clothing as well. The fabric shifted as it lay there, and Simon reached for it, shaking it out over the open space below him.

A long black coil thudded to the floor, and John backed away. Simon nodded, handing the trousers back to their owner. "So you did have a snake in your trousers. Perhaps you should cover the other one and come back in the house before you both burn the barn down."

Nick pouted at the man. "I'm not going anywhere near those vicious chickens."

"Vicious?" John laughed from below. "Nick, how much did you have?"

"Yeah, thas right," Nick slurred. "They're vicious . . . almost got Lila here." At the thought of her, he crawled over next to her and plopped down, making cow eyes at her which she returned in kind.

Simon shrugged and reached for the lamp. "Suit yourselves. But there'll be more where that came from. But I like the snakes...they keep the rat population down."

"Rats?" Lila mumbled, looking suddenly pale green.

"Oh yeah," Simon answered. "Big ones, Luv. But don't worry, all of them are just looking for some place warm to be. They don't mean to bite."

Lila's entire face frowned, and she turned her eyes to Nick. "We can be warm inside with no rats or snakes."

Nick nodded his head avidly. "Definitely," he agreed. John grinned to himself, shook his head and started out of the barn. Now he only had to deal with Mary Katherine, and he had decided just how to do it. He was going to handle her the way you handled any spoiled child.

Rolling up his sleeves he let one corner of his mouth lift rakishly, and he lowered his hands to finger his belt buckle. Before he could make it to the barn door a small, feisty dog came running past him with a shoe in his mouth. He turned to watch the dog as he ran up to his laughing master. Simon leaned down to him.

"Whatcha got there, boy?" he asked, tugging at the shoe, "Whose is this?"

The little dog growled playfully and shook his head, loathe to relinquish his find. "Well, whoever your playmate is, she's got expensive taste," Simon remarked, then simultaneously he and John sighed, "Mary Katherine."

John shook his head, "I'll deal with her."

"Good luck, Mate," Simon laughed and turned his attention to the two drunken gigglers who were trying to climb out of the hayloft.

John waited to be sure that all was well with his friends before walking out.

Simon refrained from laughing at the pair. "Come on, Luv, let uncle Simon help you down," he called to Lila.

Lila, who was close to tears now, moved cautiously over to him. Simon gathered her into his arms and climbed with one hand down the railing.

Nick followed shortly after, his shirt tails brushing the tops of his thighs as he climbed. As soon as he was on the ground, he moved to where Simon had set Lila and offered her his arm. "Shall we?" he warbled, balance escaping him for a moment.

"Woe, woe, wait a minute there, Nick," John stopped, jogging over to stand in front of him. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Nick pursed his lips in thought, the bottom one hanging out uncharacteristically far. "Well, I suppose I should pick up the bottles, yeah?"

"I was more thinking about your trousers," John answered.

Nick looked down at himself, noticing his white legs exposed to the entire barnyard. "Oh dear. What happened?"

"I'll get them," Simon offered, scurrying back up the ladder to grab the missing item.

John and Simon did their best not to burst out laughing at the state of the pair in front of them. Once they were all put back together, Simon asked John to walk them back to the house while he settled down the animals.

The three walked towards the house, rain soaking them through. "I'm wet," Lila complained. She patted Nick's arm, water splattering out at her touch. "You're wet too." She looked around, gauging what the farm looked like at night then got a very confused look on her face. "I didn't know that trees grew people."

"What?" John asked, thinking that he'd never seen even Lila this drunk before. "People growing on trees? They don't."

She pointed an unsteady finger towards a tree next to the house. "Look! There's a person in that tree."

John bent his head against the rain and started back to the house thinking that Lila was going insane, his mind set on teaching his newly acquired brat a lesson when he heard a feeble voice just above the wind calling for help.

He looked up suddenly to see Mary Katherine hanging from a branch by her waistband. The branch was cracking, and she now hung eyelevel to John, her face a picture of consternation.

"Oh, John! Please help me!" she cried.

He couldn't help himself. He doubled over with his hands on his knees and began to laugh. He laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. He laughed until his sides ached. He laughed until he began to choke, and then he finally raised up.

"Mary Kate," he sighed, "What are you doing there?"

She merely held her hands out to him and wagged her feet mildly to keep balance and looked as though she was going to cry.

"Oh, luv," John laughed, reaching up to support her with one hand as he plucked her waistband from the tree.

Adding insult to injury, before he could balance her to stop the tumble, Mary Kate slipped from John's single handed hold and landed face first in the mud.

It was a sputtering, bedraggled, mud faced Mary Katherine who lifted her face to the tall, lanky Briton, who was once more laughing so that he had to fall back against the post of the porch.

"Alright!" She cried, "I lied! I went to Paris on a lark with my friends! I stayed in the best hotels, and I made a public display of myself. I was a nuisance, and quite often indecent," her voice rose querulously, "I wish I had been in a family way! That would have been easier to explain!"

With that her hands slipped out from under her, and she was once more face down in the mud.

"See," Lila said, a goofy, drunken smile on her face, "I told you there was a person in that tree."

Ruthie was quick to usher Nick and Lila into the house, wrapping them in blankets and sending them upstairs to change into warm clothes while she made something hot to drink. Simon settled the animals and closed up the barn. He stopped midway back to the house beside John and Mary Kate. He herded them toward the house, making sure to tell the girl she looked like a drowned rat.

Mary Katherine was none too happy with the innkeeper's remarks and pouted while Ruthie towel dried her hair. "Tell me what happened, dear," Ruthie encouraged.

Mary Kate crossed her arms with a tight lipped frown, refusing to answer.

Ruthie sighed, wrapping the towel around the girl's shoulders. "Look . . . I know you must've made a mistake. You're human, honey. We all make them. But I'm sure he'll forgive you. Won't you feel better to just tell someone? Get it out of your system?"

The soft sound of the elder woman's voice nearly sent her into tears. "You'll think I'm horrible," she accused.

Ruthie chuckled. "Honey, I married Simon LeBon. You can't surprise me." Mrs. LeBon set a pot on the stove, pouring in milk and water.

When Mary Katherine saw that Ruthie was making hot cocoa, her tears burst forth, and she spilled her entire story. What she did not know was that John stood just outside the door, listening to every last word. When she had finished, John slunk away to gather his wits upstairs.

Ruthie hugged the sobbing girl to herself after taking the chocolate off the burner. "See, get it all out. You'll feel better, lovie."

Mary Kate sniffed, trying to end the sudden water works. "I'm sorry. I've acted such the brat," she apologized.

Ruthie smiled sympathetically. "We've all got our stories and our histories. It's what we do with the future that counts."

Mary Kate nodded, staring at her hands. "I think I'm going to change clothes and get some sleep."

The lady of the house smiled sweetly and nodded. "I think that's best. Start fresh in the morning. Just leave your wet things outside the door, and I'll collect them."

Mary Kate picked her way delicately past Simon without a word. Her footsteps were soggy as she went, but Simon thought he'd never seen her look so much like a lady, prior.

John was utterly frustrated now. Apart from being angry at himself, the giggling from Nick and Lila next door was driving him mad. When the door clicked open, he looked up, meeting Mary Kate's wide eyes with his own. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, moving past him to her carpet bag and extracting her sleeping clothes.

Not knowing what to do or say, John left the room once she was behind the changing screen. He met Simon in the front room again, listening as the rain poured down outside in virtual buckets.

"I need to get her out of this," John announced.

Simon waved it off. "All in good time. There's no getting anywhere tonight. She's been through rougher spots than this."

"But she shouldn't have to. And I feel I put her there."

Simon studied him as Ruthie plied them both with mugs of hot cocoa. "You're a pretty honest guy, John. How'd you get mixed up in this business?"

Before John could answer, there was a knock at the door. Simon and Ruthie looked suspiciously between each other. "You're his contact, right?"

John nodded.

"Go hide," Simon ordered.

With wide eyes, John scampered softly up the stairs, rushing to Mary Kate's side.

Simon opened the door with a lazy gesture. "Why, hello, gentlemen. What are you doing here? And at this hour/"

Warren's two goons pushed past Simon without a word, water puddling on the carpet. Warren himself stepped in, removing his hat and coat and shoving them at Simon. "Just felt like a little chat, Charlie. You don't mind?"

"Not at all," Simon agreed. "Have a seat by the radiator, and I'll have Ruthie bring you some hot cocoa."

"No thanks." Warren seated himself where Simon had been warming the cushion earlier. Without asking, he lit a cigarette, puffing out a large breath before speaking. "I'm kinda interested in your guests. They woulda been here yesterday with a pair of moving trucks."

Simon shrugged. "Not here. Stayed the night and gone the next morning. All we got is the newlyweds upstairs."

As if to punctuate the statement there was a thud on the floor of the room above them, followed by the obvious creaking of bed springs. Simon rolled his eyes.

Mary Katherine was surprised by John's hand clamped over her mouth. "Shh . . . " he whispered. "There's trouble downstairs."

She furrowed his brows as he removed his hand. "What?"

"Warren's here, and Nick and Lila are too drunk to be still."

"Here? How?"

John shrugged.

"So what do we do?"

He sighed. "Hope that Simon can fix this and say our prayers."

Lila was giggling crazily from the edge of the bed bouncing as Nick attempted to right himself. "You don't think the chickens followed us, do you?"

Nick crawled to the window and peered out. "No, we appear to be safe here." He crawled back to the bed. "Can I come up?"

She nodded, backing up to give him room. Lila sat on her haunches, eyes roaming. "You know what this room needs?"

Nick shook his head with some effort and sprawled on the mattress beside her. "What's that?"

"A phonograph! Then we could dance till the sun rises."

Nick nodded. "Quite right. 'Cept I can't dance."

She smiled, laying beside him. "You do just fine."

Nick kissed her cheek. "Lila, will you be my wife now?"

His question took her by surprise. "But, Nick, we'd need a church, and a priest, and flowers . . . and a flower girl . . . "

He put a finger to her lips. "Shhh . . . What is a wedding? It's a place where two people announce they are husband and wife, right?"

Lila nodded.

"So all we have to do is agree, and I'll keep you forever."

She smiled. "Well when you say it like that--sure, I'll be your wife."

Nick pulled her closer, kissing her soundly. "Then we're set. But if it's all the same to you, Mrs. Bates, I think I'd like to sleep now."

"Okay. Me too."

And the pair fell fast asleep.

Warren eyed Simon's cool demeanor. It had been a long while since they'd worked together. He'd always felt a bit uneasy working with the British man. Simon was happy-go-lucky no matter what the situation, and that made him difficult to read. "So you've no idea what happened to the guests from yesterday? Brit man like yourself and a pint-sized girl?"

Simon shrugged. "Had breakfast with us this morning and then took off."

Warren puffed out a breath of smoke which set Ruthie to coughing slightly. He lifted his hand, and his henchman took the gun from Simon's side, replacing it in its holster. "All right. But watch yourself, LeBon. I'll just check with a few sources. See what the word is."

With that, Warren stood and excused himself, following damp footprints from earlier as they left. The moment the door closed behind him, Ruthie rushed to her husbands arms. "I don't like that man."

Simon stroked her hair and hugged her close. "I know. Now why don't you go get some cocoa for the guests, and I'll go talk to John."

Ruthie nodded blankly, glad for the diversion as Simon made his way up the stairs.

When neither Lila nor Nick had shown their faces by noon, John went to check in on them. He knocked softly on their door. Surely they hadn't taken some silly notion to leave . . . With this thought in mind, John slowly opened the door, peeking inside as he did.

Damp clothes were scattered all over the room, seemingly having landed wherever they'd been removed. His eyes moved to the clump of sheets and blankets in the middle of the bed. Brows furrowed, John crept closer, pulling back the sheets enough to see Nick and Lila's heads. John breathed a sigh of relief as the pair groaned.

Lila pulled the sheets back over her head and curled into them. Nick attempted the same gesture, but John stopped him. "Nick, I need you to wake up," he whispered.

The blonde man grimaced, flinging his arm over his eyes and smacked his lips. "Whaddaya want?" he growled.

"Are you okay? What happened last night?"

Nick groaned, seeing Lila beside him and nearly rolled literally out of bed. John caught his arm, steadying him. Nick scowled, adjusting his sleeveless undershirt and boxers as he stumbled toward the wash basin. "I think I got married."

John rolled his eyes. "I've never seen you so smashed before. What possessed you?"

Nick splashed the cold water on his face, pouring a few handfuls more over his scalp. He reached for a towel before answering. "I don't know. I was just going to have a little, and then Lila was taking, and before I knew it, we'd finished two bottles."

John eyed his friend's slumped posture and decided not to press him further about the issue presently. "Get yourself together and come downstairs. You, Simon, and I should talk," John requested.

Nick nodded, reaching for his shaving kit. John left the pair be, slowly making his way down the stairs. What had Nick been mumbling about marriage? He shook the thought out of his head in favor of making certain Ruthie had some strong coffee prepared for his friends.

Nick blanched at the coffee in front of him on the table, hand clasped tightly around his forehead.

Simon was doing his best not to laugh at the small man. "So, it looks like one of the trucks arrived, and the other didn't. My men say the truck broke down but is on its way this morning," he informed.

"But what do we do till then?" John worried.

Simon shrugged. "Lay low. Stay here for a while. Sounds like Bates and the Missus are doing just fine." Simon smirked at himself.

Nick growled, attempting to drink the foul liquid in front of him.

"Leave him be," John defended. "It's best not to bother him till he decides to regain consciousness."

"We need to get out of here, not lay low," Nick groused, leveling bloodshot eyes at  their host. "Who do you think you are, getting involved in this without our even hinting that we wanted your help? If it wasn't for you, we'd be across the border now, collecting our car, and started back home."

John stared between the pair. "I think he might be right."

Shocked, Simon looked to his cohort. "What?"

Looking up from the tablecloth, John answered. "Warren's already been here. He'll be back soon, you have to know. The sooner we're out of your hair, the safer we'll all be."

"You're wrong," Simon argued. "If you leave now, where will you go? You've got no transportation, and those two women wouldn't last half a day's walk! And if you go home, Warren will just terrorize you there. He knows where you live."

Neither man could deny this.

"Ruthie and me were the same. Got into this to get some quick money. And if you knew what we'd been through, you'd appreciate my trying to help."

"We could've finished the job ourselves," Nick growled. He staunchly took another gulp of the hideous coffee. "All we had to do was get the trucks there and back. One more day to drive."

Simon rolled his eyes. "No. Not one more day to drive. One more night. Last night. You move trucks during the day that close to the state line, and you will get caught," he insisted, tapping hard on the table top. "Those trucks had to go last night, or they weren't going to go." He paused, leaning back in his seat. "You all look like good kids. What you don't understand is that you were either about to play a patsy, or once you get back, they'll make you do it again. You don't just do a job for him once."

Melancholy filled John. It sounded like a reasonable explanation. He hadn't thought of the ramifications of going to Warren for money. He looked to his friend. "Warren doesn't know about you and Lila. You could get out now," he offered. "We'd completely understand."

The implication of the words smacked Nick like a cold fish. "John, you can't do this by..."

"Don't. It was a foolish way to get the money. But if I don't get deported, I might get tangled into this with Cucurullo. I couldn't bare the idea that I got you needlessly tangled up in this too."

"You needed the money to post my bail. I'm already involved."

"No, you're not!" John insisted, standing from the table. "Despite what she is and you're better judgment, you've fallen for Lila hard. If you get messed up in this, the two of you will never have a chance at a normal life."

"What's normal? We've been ingratiating ourselves into New York's culture for months now with barely two pennies to rub together. And we've been successful! What respectable bachelor of means shares a flat with his mate? We've been through a lot together, Taylor. I can't believe you'd think I would abandon you now! What would your mother do to me if she found out?"

Simon shook his head between the pair of them. "Both of you settle down. You can play what if all day and get nowhere. The fact is that Warren's probably got his eyes on this house. Before long, he'll find out that the diner referred you and that the four of you were together. So you're all four involved. What we need to do is find that truck, deliver it, and not get caught."

"And just how do you propose we do that?" Nick snapped.

Simon smiled, gesturing for John to take his seat again. "That's what I've been deciding this morning. I think it's time to take the chickens to market."

To be continued...

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