12
“You fools!” Ruby hissed as they were the last to make the long, wet procession back to the house. “Are you two daft as a brush? How could you do this to me?”
Pixley put an arm on Ruby’s shoulder. “First, I don’t know if Ian has plans for Christmas, so it’s possible he won’t be able to come. Second, why aren’t you pleased?”
Ruby’s shoulders slumped, even as they leapt through the frigid air to each paving stone. “The man is infuriating. And I hate having him deciding when I see him, rather than the other way round.”
“But didn’t you see him when we returned to London after our ill-fated train journey from Genoa?” Pixley let out a sigh as they entered the warmth of the house from a back door.
“Yes. But just for tea one afternoon. He said we’d see each other again soon, but then broke
