Page 26 of How the Earl Entices

“Sir.” The boy shook his hand.

Ross smiled. “How old are you?”

“Nine and a half, sir.”

“And a half, hmm?” Well, Grace certainly had her hands full with this one. “So you’re in year five at school, then. When I was in year five, I loved geography and despised math.”

The boy’s eyes gleamed. “I like math. It’s Latin I don’t like.”

“Don’t worry.” He couldn’t resist tousling the child’s hair, drawing a duck of his head and a soft laugh from the boy. “You’ll never use Latin outside the schoolroom.”

“Mr. Thomas,” Grace warned quietly.

Both males promptly ignored that—Ross because he wanted to be on the boy’s good side, and Ethan because he seemed determined to ignore all of his mother’s warnings. As any nine year-old boy would. “Unless you become a vicar,” Ross added. “Do you want to be a vicar? My brother claims he does.”

He proudly stuck out his chest. “I want to be a ship’s captain!”

Behind him, Grace blanched, her hands tightening on the boy’s shoulders. “Honey, we’ve talked about this.” She brushed her hand through his hair, combing it back into place. “Being a sailor is dangerous.”

“But it’s what I want to do.” When he scowled and shoved her hand away, an injured expression flashed over Grace’s face. “Why can’t I? I want to be on a ship, sailing around the world.” He grumbled, “Away from here.”

That peevish dig hurt Grace, and badly enough that she didn’t answer right away.

So Ross intervened before the boy could realize that he’d wounded her. “When I was younger, I was an officer in the army. Traveled all over the world—France, Spain…once all the way to northern Africa.”

Ethan’s face lit up with excitement. “Truly?”

“The God’s truth.” He smiled at the boy as he flicked a gaze up to his mother, who bit her lip in worry over what future distress he might be causing for her with such tales. “I hated every moment of it.”

Ethan’s excitement waned. “You did?”

“I missed my home and my family, all my chums back in England.” Realizing that he wasn’t persuading him as much as he wanted, he changed tactics. “And the food was terrible.”

The boy stilled for a moment at that revelation. Then he jutted up his chin defiantly. “But I won’t be in the army. I’ll be on a ship!”

“Even worse. Homesickandseasick. Three years away from England with only salt pork and hardtack to eat.” Knowing more of the lesson would sink in if the lad were eavesdropping rather than receiving a lecture, he glanced up at Grace, changing his tone from addressing a child to one of conversing with an adult, and talked past the boy. “My brother served in the navy and swears that hardtack’s not that bad.” He chuckled then, as if sharing a joke between adults. “He said that mealy worms are the only fresh meat sailors get when they’ve been out on the water for six months straight.”

He didn’t dare lower his gaze to the boy without giving himself away. Nor did he want to when he saw Grace’s unease melt into amusement.

“So your brother was at sea.” Her bright eyes shined knowingly as she joined in. “Of course, we have mostly whole sailors here in Sea Haven, those who still have both arms and legs. But I’ve heard stories about how many men in London and further along the coast are missing parts. Did he lose a leg?”

“Both,” he answered, deadpan.

From the bottom of his gaze, he saw the boy’s eyes widen, and he bit his cheek to keep from laughing. Grace beamed with conspiratorial glee at Ross over her son’s head.

“How do you know my mother?”

The unexpected question froze the smile on her face. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she raced to come up with an answer.

“We’re old friends,” Ross answered for her. “From long before you were born.”

That answer seemed to satisfy him. Until… “Why are you in Sea Haven?”

“The storm forced me to come ashore.” Not technically a lie. “And I unexpectedly came across your mother.” Also not a lie. “We spent all night becoming reacquainted.” Unable to help himself, he added, “I couldn’t bring myself to leave. It was as if I were tied in place.”

A strangled sound came from her throat. Her eyes narrowed murderously on him for just a beat, then she forced a smile and turned the boy to face her. She lowered herself to her knees as she reached up to brush at his hair. Ethan rolled his eyes.

“But Mr. Thomas is needed in London.” She paused. “And I’m going to travel with him.”