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Melina grimaced. ‘You are not learning how to be a proper duchess and he is acting more like you every day. You both disrupt all around you.’
A young female shriek of laughter sounded from outside the room.
‘See what I mean.’ Melina shook her head. ‘Willa,’ she called out, standing to move to the door. ‘Do not—’
Warrington walked in, carrying his daughter under his arm, snug against his side and grasped around her middle, her hands and feet flailing as she laughed. ‘I don’t know what we will do with her. She thinks she is as big as her brother Jacob,’ he said, bending enough so she could put her feet to the floor and right herself. ‘Willa, you must not shout when I toss you about. Jacob does not.’
‘He does,’ she said. ‘And he has a pail of worms hidden under his bed.’
‘No,’ Melina said, rushing to the door.
Warrington put out an arm, catching his wife at the waist. ‘Don’t worry. I have told him we will go fishing. I’ll see to the worms.’ He gave his wife a kiss on the forehead.
Ben walked in behind him. ‘Rhys and I have decided to teach Jacob how to fish. We cannot trust his father to such a simple task. And we all know—’ he looked at his wife ‘—that I am very good at catching things from the sea.’
Warrington snorted. ‘But we will be fishing in a pool and you always claim the fish are not biting.’ He looked over his shoulder at Rhys. ‘And you claim the sun is in their eyes.’
Rhys shrugged. ‘That was when we were children. I say now that the fisherman who fares worst will be tossed into the pool by the other two.’
‘Challenge accepted,’ Ben said.
‘Wait.’ Warrington held out a hand. ‘I will be the judge of the winner. You two can compete.’
Ben looked at Rhys and winked. ‘Certainly, War. We will see that you do not fall into the pool and get your cravat wet. But I suggest you wear old boots.’
‘You could use a dunking as well. You hardly look like a sea captain,’ Warrington said. ‘You are all Brummelled.’
Benjamin shrugged. ‘I had a portrait sitting in the library. Thank you, Bellona, for recommending your tutor.’
‘I think Ben looks quite dashing,’ Thessa said. ‘And the blue waistcoat matches his eyes so.’
Warrington made a choking noise. ‘A good reason not to choose it.’
‘I’m only too happy to wear it for my wife, even if it is a bit tight under the black coat.’ Benjamin’s smile broadened. ‘It was worth the trade—worth standing for my own portrait just to have a painting of my wife as I saw her the first time.’ He straightened the sleeves of his coat. ‘She’ll always be my mermaid.’
Melina frowned. ‘I’ve seen that painting on your ship of Thessa in the water. Not something that didn’t happen every day on Melos.’
Warrington turned to the artwork above his fireplace of the three sisters on the island. The old painting created in their childhood. ‘That is the one I cherish.’
‘This is the artist I cherish,’ Rhys said, putting a hand at Bellona’s back. She looked into his eyes. He often sat near her, reading aloud while she sketched or practised with oils.
She’d never expected to love painting and she didn’t care if she ever became any good at it, but strangely, it made her feel closer to her mother’s memory and her homeland. During her childhood, their house had always smelled of pigments and she’d learned to mix them quite young.
Her sisters did not see painting the same way, but they had all agreed to travel to the museum in France when their children were older. They wanted another look at the statue they’d found—now that the armless woman had a home—and they wanted to show their children the woman from Melos.
Melina turned to Bellona. ‘I will have a picnic prepared and brought to us at the pool. The nursery maid can watch the children, but we will watch the boys.’
Melina and Warrington left the room, followed by Thessa and Ben. But Rhys lingered a bit, looking into Bellona’s eyes.
‘Do you wish to go with the others?’ he asked. ‘I’d prefer to visit the pool in the moonlight with you.’
‘Oh, that would not be a good idea,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Ben and Thessa are planning a stroll there tonight.’
‘Well, then,’ he said. ‘When we return home, we can visit the small room in the servants’ quarters. I’ve had a good latch put on the door.’
‘You did not,’ she said, slapping at his sleeve. ‘The servants will...’
He laughed. ‘I did. I will take a book with us—to give us something to do, of course. I gave strict instructions to the servants it is not to be disturbed. A good book should not be interrupted—ever.’
