" You might consider a full shave," he suggested. "You certainly have the chin for it."
Keir shook his head. "I must keep the beard."
Looking sympathetic, the barber asked, "Pockmarks? Scars?"
"No' exactly." Since the man seemed to explain an explanation, Keir continued uncomfortably, "It's... well... my friends and I, we're a rough lot, you ken. 'Tis our way to chaff and trade insults. Whenever I shave off the beard, they start mocking and jeering. Blowing kisses, calling me a fancy lad, and all that. They never tire of it. And the village lasses start flirting and mooning about my distillery, and interfering with work. 'Tis a vexation."
The barber stared at him in bemusement. "So the flaw you're trying to hide is... you're too handsome?"
A balding middle-aged man seated in the waiting area reacted with a derisive snort. "Balderdash," he exclaimed. "Enjoy it while you can, is my advice. A handsome shoe will someday be an ugly slipper."
"What did he say, nephew?" asked the elderly man beside him, lifting a metal horn to his ear.
The middle-aged man spoke into the horn. "Young fellow says he's too handsome."
"Too handsome?" the old codger repeated, adjusting his spectacles and squinting at Keir. "Who does the cheeky bugger think he is, the Duke of Kingston?"
Amused, the barber proceeded to explain the reference to Keir. "His Grace the Duke of Kingston is generally considered one of the finest-looking men who's ever lived."
"I know-" Keir began.
"He caused many a scandal in his day," the barber continued. "They still make jokes about it in Punch. Cartoons with fainting women, and so forth."
"Handsome as Othello, they say," said a man who was sweeping up hair clippings.
"Apollo," the barber corrected dryly. He used a dry brush to whisk away the hair from Keir's neck. "I suspect by now Kingston's probably lost most of those famed golden locks."
Keir was tempted to contradict him, since he'd met the duke earlier that very day and seen for himself the man still had a full head of hair. However, he thought better of it and held his tongue. "
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Keir shook his head. "I must keep the beard."Looking sympathetic, the barber asked, "Pockmarks? Scars?"
"No' exactly." Since the man seemed to explain an explanation, Keir continued uncomfortably, "It's... well... my friends and I, we're a rough lot, you ken. 'Tis our way to chaff and trade insults. Whenever I shave off the beard, they start mocking and jeering. Blowing kisses, calling me a fancy lad, and all that. They never tire of it. And the village lasses start flirting and mooning about my distillery, and interfering with work. 'Tis a vexation."
The barber stared at him in bemusement. "So the flaw you're trying to hide is... you're too handsome?"
A balding middle-aged man seated in the waiting area reacted with a derisive snort. "Balderdash," he exclaimed. "Enjoy it while you can, is my advice. A handsome shoe will someday be an ugly slipper."
"What did he say, nephew?" asked the elderly man beside him, lifting a metal horn to his ear.
The middle-aged man spoke into the horn. "Young fellow says he's too handsome."
"Too handsome?" the old codger repeated, adjusting his spectacles and squinting at Keir. "Who does the cheeky bugger think he is, the Duke of Kingston?"
Amused, the barber proceeded to explain the reference to Keir. "His Grace the Duke of Kingston is generally considered one of the finest-looking men who's ever lived."
"I know-" Keir began.
"He caused many a scandal in his day," the barber continued. "They still make jokes about it in Punch. Cartoons with fainting women, and so forth."
"Handsome as Othello, they say," said a man who was sweeping up hair clippings.
"Apollo," the barber corrected dryly. He used a dry brush to whisk away the hair from Keir's neck. "I suspect by now Kingston's probably lost most of those famed golden locks."
Keir was tempted to contradict him, since he'd met the duke earlier that very day and seen for himself the man still had a full head of hair. However, he thought better of it and held his tongue." style="width:100%;margin:20px 0;"/>