“I was not married to Zachary’s father,” she said quietly, turning to lead the way to the house. “The duke is my father. I am William and Eve’s elder sister.” She did not look back to note his expression.
“I made it myself,” Zachary said.
“The boat?” the viscount said. Barbara wondered if he wished he could turn back without appearing impolite. “That was clever of you. How did you do it?”
“Actually,” Zachary admitted, “Ben helped me whittle the wood. And Mama helped me with the sail. But I did a lot of the work.”
“That is what counts when you are a lad,” the viscount said. “To watch and learn and do as much as you can so that when you are a little older you can do something all alone.”
“I shall go and fetch it,” Zachary said, turning toward the stairs as soon as they entered the house.
“Wash your hands and comb your hair while you are up there,” Barbara said, and then wished she had not done so. She did not wish to be alone with the Viscount Brandon. She led the way into the parlor. “It was kind of you to bring him home.”
“My pleasure, ma’am,” he said, taking the chair she indicated after she had seated herself. “I never subscribe to the theory that being with children is tedious. And perhaps it is as well that I hold that view. I have fourteen nephews and nieces already, and there is no sign yet that they have stopped coming.”
“Oh,” she said. “You come from a large family?”
“When I have just mentioned the number fourteen,” he said, his eyes laughing at her, “one would hope that I am not about to say that I have one poor sister. I have five, ma’am, two older and three younger than I—all married and mothers already. And one of my brothers is married too. I did not know that Meacham and Lady Eve had a sister.”
“I am the skeleton in the family closet, “ she said.
He looked steadily at her. “Are you?” he said. “But you have a lovely son.”
“Yes,” she said. She raised her chin in an unconscious gesture of defiance. “He is all I have of Zach, and I am not sorry.”
“I can understand that,” he said. “I have no such memento of my wife. I envy you.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise—at two things he had said. “You have been married?” she asked.
“Two years ago,” he said. “Very briefly. We knew that she was dying before we married. But we married anyway. I wanted the honor of being her widower.”
“Oh,” she said, “how I envy you. Zach was a cavalry officer. He had to leave for the Peninsula with very little warning. There was no time ...”
“I understand,” he said as Zachary came back into the room, a crudely carved boat clutched proudly in his hand.
Barbara poured the tea, which had just arrived, and watched as Lord Brandon set one arm about her son’s shoulders and gave the toy his full attention. He listened to the lengthy and muddled account Zachary gave of the making of the boat, and asked questions about it.
“I would like to see her make her maiden voyage,” he said at last. “When is it to be?”
“Her?” Zachary chuckled.
“Of course,” the viscount said. “Ships are always female. Did you not know? Have you not given her a name yet?”
Zachary was giggling.
“Perhaps you should give her your mama’s name,” Lord Brandon suggested. “TheLady Barbara.”
Zachary giggled harder. “Do you like it, Mama?” he asked.
“I would feel deeply honored,” she said, meeting the viscount’s dancing blue eyes across the room and puzzling over Eve’s description of him as a humorless man.
“And when is the maiden voyage to be?” the viscount asked. “That means her very first voyage, Zach.”
“Tomorrow,” the boy said decisively. “At the lake. Can we go tomorrow, Mama?”
“I suppose so,” she said. “If the weather is kind.”
“In the afternoon?” the viscount asked. “About this time? I shall be there.”
