Free A Matter of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 1) by Ichabod Temperance

delightful Leibchen as yourself, I vill happily make zee exception, Ja.”
    “Yes, how charming, Herr Doktor, I am sure, but you see, I am a founder of this clubbe. One might say that you were in ‘mein’ clubbe, sir.”
    The randy count is not pleased at Miss Plumtartt’s oneupmanship. I can almost see the salivating fangs of the Hessian Wolf as he backs Miss Plumtartt up against a table and then presses himself against her until you couldn’t get a piece of butcher’s paper between them.
    “Persephone!”
    A small young fella stands in the doorway from which he has called. He looks to be barely a teen, but has an adult’s authoritative presence. There is also a frailty about him though; he is out of breath from his short travel to this room.
    “Stanislas!” Miss Plumtartt calls back to the youth as she ducks beneath Herr Doktor Himmel’s grasp. “It is so good to see you, my dear!”
    She runs to and warmly embraces the little gentleman.
    “My dear Persephone, I can tell that you are deeply distressed. Please tell me what concerns you so.”
    “Yes, of course, Stanislas, but in private, if you don’t mind.”
    “By all means, dear Lady.”
    “But Fraulein,” cuts in Herr Doktor Himmel very brusquely and without regard to me or Monsieur de Guaita, “I was in the middle of mein own conversation vith you, und I vaz not finished.”
    “Really?” Miss Plumtartt regally arches a single eyebrow. “I think that we are quite through. However, I am sure Mr. Temperance will keep you company while I am away. Thank you, gentlemen.”
    With that, Miss Plumtartt and Monsieur de Guaita swiftly walk away.
    I don’t like the way this ‘Herr Doktor’ is eyeballing Miss Plumtartt's bustle.
    But I promised to be good.
    This continental Casanova is not treating Miss Plumtartt with the respect she deserves.
    But I promised that I would be on my best behavior.
    “Good evening, sir,” I say, trying to break the Dok’s fanny-focused attentions, “my name is Ichabod Temperance.”
    I am completely ignored by the thwarted German Gigolo.
    “Howdy, Dok. That’s Herr Doktor Himmel, ain’t it?”
    He looks as though he has just tasted something sour. This boy is having to dig deep to come up with the good manners to speak to me. In his opinion, I am obviously beneath his notice.
    Once the bustle in question turns out of sight, he finally acknowledges my existence with a dismissive snort.
    I try my hand at high-brow small talk.
    “Some weather, we're having, eh what, old chap? Looks like we might have a spot of rain, hunh?”
    Herr Himmel has returned to not even acknowledging me.
    “I like your clubbe, Herr Himmel. Very posh. Yep. Yep. Um, yeppers. Very posh, indeed.”
    A small flicker of distaste crosses the single lens enhanced face.
    “Um, you’re from Germany, right? Uh, I like sauerkraut with corned beef, how about you, hunh?”
    “I am considering having it on something right now.”
    “Really? What’s that?”
    “You don’t want to know.”
    “You all got any ‘Ghost’ attacks in your neck of the woods, Herr Doktor?”
    He snaps his focus on me. Suddenly, I feel like a pinned bug under his glaring monocle.
    “Why yes, my little American,” leers the beastly baron, “vee do have zese ‘Ghost’ attacks in mein country. Quite horrible they say.”
    Then why do you grin when you say that, you creep?
    “These will run their course in due time.”
    ~!!!~ What does he know?!
    A cuckoo in his hat alerts the aloof Austrian that he has an appointment to keep. He checks first his watch, and then his clockwork pocket organizer and then makes to leave, but stops and taps my shoulder with his cane.
    I suspect this device to be of dubious design.
    “You and zee young lady. You are intimately involved, are you not?”
    ~!!!~ Is he doubting Miss Plumtartt's unquestionable virtue?!
    I promised to be good....
    “Herr Himmel, it is my understanding that Miss Plumtartt is of the highest moral character. Our