Those patrician nostrils flared, her aristocratic spine stiffened. “Excuuuse me?” She drew out the syllables like a long line he’d just stepped over. Her expression reminded him that, while his ancestors had been strapped to a plow in Eastern Europe, hers had been sipping martinis on country club verandas. He knew he’d gone too far, but he wanted her so damn bad that he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“Do you ever think about anybody but yourself?”

Her eyebrows shot right into that highborn forehead. “Get out!”

He was making a fool of himself, and if he stayed a moment longer, he’d only dig in deeper. But he’d never been good at backing away from a fight, so instead of acting like a reasonable adult, he leaned down and scooped her into his arms, blanket and all.

“Put me down! What do you think you’re doing?”

“My patriotic duty!” He kicked the door open, then had to juggle both her wiggling body and the door so he could lock it behind him before he carried her to the house.

“You are out of your teeny-tiny mind!”

“Probably.”

“Stop it right now! You’re acting like a Neanderthal!”

“Yeah, well, live with it.”

Inside Mabel, Lucy lay awake. The sound of the argument had brought her stomach pain back. She’d never expected them to fight like this. And she couldn’t even figure out what they were fighting about, since nothing Jorik said made sense. At least she understood it when Sandy and Trent used to fight about money.

But Jorik and Nell were a lot smarter than Sandy and Trent had been, smart enough to know that people needed to talk over their problems instead of just yelling at each other. What if they decided to break up?

Her stomach cramped.

She glanced over at Button, and the soft baby snores reassured her that her sister was still sleeping soundly. Making up her mind, she slipped out of bed and, moving as quietly as she could, made her way into the house.

“Put me down!”

“When I’m good and ready.”

She peeked around the corner and saw Mat carrying Nell up the stairs. Nell kept ordering him to let her go, and her voice sounded like she was shooting ice picks at him, but he wasn’t paying any attention.

Lucy’s stomach ache grew worse. Any minute now Jorik would go stomping off and get drunk, then Nell would start crying and get drunk, too. And then they wouldn’t talk to each other for a long time.

Lucy couldn’t stand it. She crept up the stairs in time to see Mat marching into the guest bedroom. There was a soft thumping sound as if he’d just set Nell down. Lucy reached the top step.

“Get out of here!”

“You bet I will!”