A Trail Through Time (The Chronicles of St. Mary's #4)

by Jodi Taylor

I resurfaced to find they were discussing Prentiss’s love life. Or lack thereof. ‘It’s quite easy, really,’ Hunter was saying. ‘You just talk to them. These days, men can understand even quite complicated words. Watch.’ She turned to Markham, who had recently returned to the orbit of her affection like an erratic comet, and smiled dazzlingly at him. As always, whenever she was near, he sat up and looked like an expectant spaniel. She dropped her voice an octave or two. ‘Well, hello there, big boy. And how tall are you?’ He swallowed hard. ‘Five foot six.’ ‘Well, let’s forget about the five feet and talk about the six inches, shall we?’ I thought he was going to faint. He made the faint gobbling noises of one whose blood has fled south for the winter. Hunter regarded him complacently and then turned back to Prentiss. ‘See? Easy. Give it a go.’ ‘I will.’ She looked around. Major Guthrie was just walking past. ‘Good afternoon, Major. How tall are you?’ ‘Um, six feet and half an inch,’ he said, and stood bewildered, as, to a man, St Mary’s slid to the floor and laughed its head off. ‘What on earth …?’ said Leon, turning up half a minute later and surveying the scene. I wiped my eyes. ‘Tell you later. Did you want me?’ ‘Yes. Have you got a minute?’ I got up to go and paused. It would have taken a better woman than me to resist the temptation. ‘Leon, how tall are you?’ ‘Five foot ten inches.’ What can you say?