After Dare’s tenth pass by the two men, Batsfoam spoke. “Would you care for me to ascertain the location of the lady you so honorably, if more than a little precipitously, offered to wed? Not that I’m criticizing my lord’s actions; in truth, I would rather cut off my other leg than make even the slightest criticism of the hasty manner in which you promised to wed a woman you barely know, let alone seem to feel any fondness for, not that fondness is required in a marriage, as I have experience to know, having been wed for seventeen extraordinarily long years to Mrs. Batsfoam before her untimely demise in a terrible accident caused by the Elephant Woman of Zanzibar on display at Mr. Trencherfoot’s Gallery of the Unexplainable and Bizarre, who, as she seated herself on a bench, propelled the Tasmanian Bat Boy across the room directly into Mrs. Batsfoam’s lap, whereupon she choked on her horehound sweet, thereby hastening her death three years later by palpitations to the spleen. Indeed, my leg would be a small sacrifice to put my lord’s troubled mind at rest. Shall I fetch a surgeon for the immediate removal of the one sound limb remaining me?”

Dare pursed his lips in apparent thought. “Whoever else is fickle in my life, Batsfoam, I can always count on you to be constant, ever a glad ray of happiness and cheer ready to light my solemn days and brighten every moment.”

David made a sound suspiciously close to a snort. Outside the church, voices rose to a fevered pitch, cries of “’Ere, you, mind the bear, ’e bites” battling the sharp, tinny blare of several off-key trumpets attempting to play a triumphant march. Dare fought to keep in control the rising sense of absurdity at the situation. His lips quirked upward a moment later when Batsfoam, his head bent in humble approximation of subjugation, genuflected to indicate his leg and cocked an eyebrow. “The leg, my lord? It won’t take but a moment to have it hacked off.”

“Perhaps later, Batsfoam. After the wedding breakfast, hmm? Wouldn’t do to put the ladies off their feed with a lot of blood and such.”

“Dare!” Patricia burst into the small room, stopping just long enough to grab her brother by his arm and drag him toward the door. “Dare, you must come quickly. Lady Charlotte has arrived, but she refuses to leave the carriage until she speaks with you. Oh, and there’s a monkey loose in the church, but the vicar thinks he has it cornered in the chandelier over the nave, so you’re not to worry. Did you know there’s a circus outside?”

Dare’s shoulders twitched for a moment, but with effort, he managed to square them and follow his sister out to the carriage with no more than a slightly bored look on his face.

“Ah, Carlisle, there you are. Spot of trouble with the ladies, don’tcha know,” a slight, red-haired man standing next to the carriage said, looking distinctly relieved to see the groom. A shout of warning had the two men leaping out of the way when a camel trailing several silken scarves and a gilded rope galloped past them and up the steps leading into the church, pursued by three men who hurled a number of obscene threats and oaths at the animal’s head.