Chapter 15: Warrick
The next morning I woke up hungover. “I’ve got to stop doing this to myself,” I groaned.
“I must say I agree with you.”
I started, then groaned again. “Who…?”
“It’s Fox.” He sounded amused rather than insulted that I’d forgotten I had company. “Here. Have a Prairie Oyster.”
It was the same remedy Bertie had prepared for Thomas and me the first time we’d sampled Sir Henry’s single malt. Thomas hadn’t liked the taste, but I’d enjoyed it and teased him into helping me polish off most of the bottle. And the only reason Bertie had given us the remedy was so he wouldn’t get in trouble, since he was supposed to be our guardian while their parents spent a few nights in Town.
“That’s fairly disgusting.”
“Yes, but it’s good for what ails you.”
“Sadist.” Raw egg, Worcester
