In the Land of the Long White Cloud

quickly. As far as I could tell, the party in the salon is over. But your grandfather might still be carousing with a few of them in his study, so be careful. I’ll be in in a moment.”
    Fleurette did not need to be told twice. Trembling, she pulled the tatters of her blouse over her breasts and took flight. The men respectfully made way as she ran headlong through the barn and into the kitchen. She longed for the safety of her room—and her mother could trust her to cross the salon as fast as the wind.

    “Where is Sideblossom?” Gerald Warden asked. To his mind, the evening was far from over. He was very drunk, just like the other farmers raising their glasses in the study, but that did not stop him from suggesting a card game. Reginald Beasley, who rarely drank so much, had already agreed, and Lord Barrington was also inclined to play. They needed a fourth, and John Sideblossom had for many years been his favorite buddy when it came to cleaning out his opponents in blackjack.
    “He went out earlier. To bed, probably,” Barrington told him. “Couldn’t hold an…anymore, the yo…young buck.”
    “Johnny Sideblossom has yet to ever turn down a round!” Gerald defended his friend. “He always drinks everyone under the table. Has to be around here somewhere.” Gerald was drunk enough to look under the table for Sideblossom. Beasley cast a glance into the salon, but only Paul was sitting there. His head was sunk in a book, but in reality he was waiting. His sister and John Sideblossom would have to return eventually. And this position offered him the opportunity to further compromise his sister.
    “Are you looking for Mr. Sideblossom?” he asked politely and in such a resonant voice that it did not escape anyone in the study. “He’s in the stables with my sister.”

    Gerald Warden stormed out of the study, filled with the kind of holy rage that only whiskey could bring about.
    “The damnable little whore! First she acts as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, and then she disappears off to the hay with Johnny. When she knows that raises the price of the dowry. If he even takes her at all, then it’ll only be because he’s getting half my farm!”
    Reginald Beasley followed him, hardly any less incensed. She had turned down his proposal. And now she was rolling in the hay with this Sideblossom fellow?
    At first the men were uncertain whether they should head in through the main entrance or the kitchen door to catch the couple in the barn. It was silent for several seconds as they weighed the options. Before they could make a move, they heard the sound of the kitchen door opening. Fleurette shuffled into the salon—and stood shocked in front of her grandfather and his drinking buddy.
    “You wicked little strumpet!” Gerald dealt her her second slap of the evening. “Where’s your lover, eh? Where’s Johnny? He’s certainly a cad to be dragging you off practically in front of my eyes. But this isn’t how someone behaves, Fleurette; it most definitely is not!” He struck her in the chest, but she remained standing. She did not manage, however, to hold tight to the tatters of her blouse. She sobbed when the thin material fell from her grasp, exposing her breasts to the view of all the men.
    Gerald seemed to sober up. If he had been alone, he would no doubt have felt something other than shame, but for now the health of his business interests took precedence over his lust. After this incident, he would never be able to pawn Fleurette off on an upstanding man. John Sideblossom would have to take her, and that meant her honor had to be at least halfway preserved.
    “Cover yourself and go to your room,” he ordered, turning his gaze away. “We’ll announce your engagement tomorrow, even if I have to force the cad to the altar with a loaded shotgun. Or you, for that matter. There’ll be no more fuss.” Fleurette was too shocked and exhausted to reply. She tugged her blouse closed and fled upstairs.
    Gwyneira found her an hour later, weeping and trembling under her blankets. Gwyneira was trembling herself, but with rage. At herself first and foremost, for dealing with Sideblossom and taking the horses to safety instead of accompanying Fleurette back to the house. Not that it would have helped much. The two women would just have heard Gerald’s outburst together instead of an hour apart, because the men had not yet gone to bed. After the tongue-lashing from Gwyneira in the stables, John