The Tales of Beaufort Scales by Kim M. Watt

Author:Kim M. Watt [Watt, Kim M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy, Dragons & Mythical Creatures, Fantasy, Fiction, Mystery & Detective
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Miriam, what happened to that other thermos of mulled wine?” Alice asked, frowning at the boot of the car. The dragons were still on the green, attempting to build their own snowmen without breathing on them and melting them entirely.

“I’m not sure,” Miriam said, sliding the empty trays from the mince pies onto the back seat. “Maybe Gert took it home?”

“She didn’t mention it.”

“She does like her mulled wine, though.”

Alice smiled. “You’re probably right. Thanks for helping clean up, Miriam.”

“It’s no bother. Um … you don’t happen to have any spare bread, do you? Only last time Beaufort and Mortimer came around they had six fried egg sarnies each, and now there’s four of them.”

Alice laughed. “I can do better. I made a shepherd’s pie yesterday, and it’s far too big. I’ll bring it around.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful.” Miriam shut the car door. “Shall I meet you at home, then?”

“I’ll see you there.”

Miriam watched Alice drive off, then turned back to the dragons. Gilbert and Amelia had discovered the snow-dragon and were arguing over whether it was insulting or a true artistic statement. Mortimer was lying on his back, watching the stars come out, and only Beaufort noticed her kicking through the snow toward them.

“And how are you, Miriam?” he asked.

“All the better for seeing you,” she said. “Alice is bringing a shepherd’s pie to mine. Do you want to come?”

“Does it have real shepherds in it?” the High Lord asked, intrigued.

“No! Of course not. It’s got mince in it. Lamb, traditionally.”

He looked puzzled. “Shouldn’t it be lamb pie, then?”

“Yes, but then it’d have pastry on it.”

“How’s it a pie if it doesn’t have pastry on it?” Gilbert asked. There was snow melting on the side of his face, and it looked rather as if his sister had won the argument through force.

“It’s … look, it doesn’t matter. Are you coming?”

“We’d love to,” Beaufort said cheerfully. “Only—” he leaned in closer to Miriam and whispered loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the green, “Young Gilbert here’s vegetarian. I do apologise.”

“That’s just fine,” Miriam assured him. “Shall we go?”

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