Welcome back for Six Sentence Sunday. Thanks all for the lovely comments last week. I'm so glad you're enjoying Bartholomew as much as I always have. Here's the next installment of Flight. You'll recall from last week that our hero told Claire he was hoping to give her a nice case of syphilis. Claire and co. are not amused.
For anyone just joining this story, the first installment is here.
Claire glared at him from the piano bench, her ice blue eyes hard and mean.
The biters’ amusement had ended leaving only the ticking of the mantle clock and the brush of fabric on fabric as the American – Mr. Barnes – sat up.
“You seem to forget you’re talkin’ to a lady. You shouldn’t be speakin’ like a Blackguard in her presence,” he said.
Bartholomew set down his glass. “You seem to forget that this is my house.”
As always, I hope you'll take the time to visit the Six Sentence Sunday site to discover the work of other participating writers.