"You sure get yourself into some interesting situations, Katie my girl," Kate muttered, trying to unbunch the cloth so that she could find where it was attached to Lucern. It was her job to be sure that things ran smoothly for her writers at these things, and to help them out of sticky situations. But it was her considered opinion that this situation was beyond the call of an editor's duties. If it hadn't been Lucern in this bind, she wouldn't even have thought of fixing it herself. Which was an interesting point, one she would contemplate later. She gave a start when something bumped the underside of her hand. It was the codpiece, Kate realized with amazement. It was growing and had bumped into her. Well, what was under it was growing. It seemed Lucern was finding the ordeal something more than just embarrassing.
Lucern wished the ground would open up and devour him. It could even take every one of the writers surrounding him, and Kate too if it liked, so long as it ended this misery, the most embarrassing moment of his life. It wasn't bad enough that his codpiece was attached to a tablecloth, but now Kate was kneeling between his legs trying to untangle him, and that was giving rise to thoughts that had nothing to do with getting free so he could visit the men's room. He was imagining what it would be like if, instead of untangling the tablecloth, she would simply shift the codpiece aside, pull him out and wrap her lips around him. Then he realized he had gone hard, and he hoped to God she didn't notice.
How had he ended up in this position? He was a man who liked order and routine. He did not attend conferences, or Renaissance balls. How had his life got so out of control? Something nudged against his codpiece, and he jerked upright in his seat, drawing the attention of the women around him.
"Sorry." Kate's voice came muffled from under the table. It sounded like she was speaking through gritted teeth. Lucern closed his eyes in humiliation and wished himself staked through the heart.
"Did she stick you with the pin?" Beth, one of the writers, asked in concern.
Lucern grunted in answer, but it came out more like a whimper. Taking that for a yes, Beth patted his shoulder sympathetically.
"Here you are!"
Lucern turned his head to see Lady Barrow making her way to him through the gathering of authors, Jodi pressed herself against the table next to his leg, blocking the view of Kate underneath. Lady Barrow appeared a little curious as to why the women were all clustered there, but she didn't ask. Instead, she smiled at Lucern.
"Allison told me you were feeling better, but I wanted to see for myself."
Lucern stared at her, knowing his eyes had gone as round as pumpkins. Normally, he would have stood when a lady approached; but that was impossible. That wasn't the reason his eyes had gone round, though. The fact was, unaware of Lady Barrow's presence, Kate had just grabbed his codpiece and shifted it. She had also—unintentionally?—grabbed hold of the part of his anatomy that was expanding in size, filling to capacity the overlarge codpiece.
"Sorry." Kate's voice came from under the table again. "I'm having trouble seeing this pin."
Lady Barrow's smile froze. Her eyes shot down to where Jodi's skirts hid the table, then traveled up to the writer's alarmed face, then slid to Lucern's mortified expression. Before she could say a word, Kate's voice sounded again. It was irritated and short. "Dammit, Lucern! The moment I get you unhooked, I insist you take these damn pins out. They're a bloody nuisance."
"Luc's codpiece is stuck to the tablecloth," Jodi blurted as Lady Barrow opened her mouth. "Kate's trying to free him."
"His codpiece, she means," Beth put in helpfully. "Kate is trying to free his codpiece from the tablecloth. Not him from his codpiece."
"I see," Lady Barrow murmured, looking not at all sure how to handle the situation. Her dismay lasted only a moment, however; then she gestured for Jodi to move aside, lifted the tablecloth out of the way, and knelt to peer under the table. "Can you see in there, Kate? Or shall I have someone bring a light?"
Lucern felt Kate's hand tighten on him in alarm, and he closed his eyes with a moan.
"Lady Barrow?" Kate's voice sounded incredibly small.
"Yes, it's me. Do you need some light under there?"
The muffled curse that came from under the table was almost drowned out by a sudden guffaw from above. Lucern opened his eyes to see Chris covering his mouth. The man was losing it. Lucern supposed he couldn't blame him. Were he not at the center of this debacle, he might find it horribly amusing as well. As it was, he just found it horrible.
Lucern couldn't hear Kate's muttered answer to Lady Barrow, but it must have been in the affirmative, for the woman straightened, peered around, then summoned one of her workers to find a flashlight. The man was off like a shot; then Lady Barrow turned to survey Lucern's pained expression. She patted his shoulder soothingly. "Never mind. This sort of thing has happened to all of us at one time or another." Her mouth quirked. "Well, not precisely this sort of thing, but you know what I mean."
Lucern groaned and closed his eyes again. Then a bluff voice said, "Well, what's going on here? Why are all my writers just standing about?"