Thomas’s arm shot across the bar and he grabbed his friend’s collar with strength remarkable in one so impaired. “Harry…”

“Thomas, Thomas, Thomas,” Mr. Gladdish said, and Amelia nearly laughed aloud at the sight of her betrothed being scolded by an innkeeper. It was marvelous.

“No one likes a surly drunk,” Mr. Gladdish continued. “Here you are. For the sake of the rest of us.” He plunked a short glass on the counter. Amelia leaned forward to inspect the contents. It was yellowish, and rather slimy-looking, with a dark brown swirl and a few flecks of red.

It smelled like death.

“Good heavens,” she said, looking up at Thomas. “You’re not going to drink that, are you?”

He grabbed the glass, brought it to his lips, and downed it in one gulp. Amelia actually flinched.

“Ew,” she let out, unable to suppress her groan. She felt sick to her stomach just watching him.

Thomas shuddered, and his chin seemed to tense and shake, as if he were steeling himself for something very unpleasant. And then, with a gasp, he let out a breath.

Amelia backed away from the fumes. That kiss he had promised…

He had better not be planning on it today.

“Tastes just as good as you remembered, eh?” Mr. Gladdish said.

Thomas met his gaze dead even. “Better.”

Mr. Gladdish laughed at that, and then Thomas laughed, and Amelia just looked at them with a complete lack of comprehension. Not for the first time, she wished she’d had brothers. Surely she could have used a bit of practice with the males of the species before trying to understand these two.

“You’ll be cured before long,” Mr. Gladdish said.

Thomas gave a nod. “That’s why I’m here.”

“You’ve had one of these before?” Amelia asked, trying not to wrinkle her nose.

Mr. Gladdish cut Thomas off before he could reply. “He’d have my head if I told you just how many of these he’s tossed back.”

“Harry…” Thomas said warningly.

“We were young and foolish,” Harry said, holding up his hands as if that were explanation enough. “Truly, I haven’t served him one of these in years.”

Amelia was glad to hear it; as amusing as it had been to finally see Thomas at less than his best, she did not relish the thought of marriage to a habitual drunkard. Still, it did make her wonder—just what had happened that made him want to go out and overindulge?

“Served one of these to your friend the other day,” Mr. Gladdish said offhandedly.

“My friend,” Thomas repeated.

Amelia hadn’t been paying much attention, but the tone of his voice when he replied was enough to make her look sharply in his direction. He sounded bored…and dangerous, if the combination was possible.

“You know the one,” Mr. Gladdish said. “You were in here with him just yesterday, wasn’t it?”