He scrubbed the back of his neck. “No, it’s that they’re often loud and full of energy, and I don’t have patience for them.”
Jacob had a similar opinion, only ten times worse. “David is special, and I’m not saying that because he’s my son. He’s almost ten, but he’s very mature for his age.” Thanks to the fact he hadn’t had a normal childhood, despite her best efforts. “He must be worried about me. I hope he stays with his governess and doesn’t search around for me.”
Ethan stroked her hand with the rough pads of his fingers. “Do not worry. You’ll see David soon.” He’d misinterpreted her emotions.
She was worried about David, but the reason her voice cracked was because Jacob didn’t love his own son. Worthless boy was his best term of endearment. Likely, he wouldn’t care if David got injured. The worst thing was that David believed every insult his father spat out. She stared at the dirty floor, collecting herself before Ethan saw the deep hurt in her eyes. That was hardly the right moment to discuss her family’s problems with a stranger.
“Are you going to be deployed somewhere?” she asked to change the subject.
He left his hand on top of hers, and she didn’t mind. The near-death experience was to blame for her lack of judgement. But on second thought, who cared?
“Yes, I’m about to leave,” he said, “for Lias, an island in the middle of the Indian Ocean. I haven’t been deployed actually. I volunteered.”
She stiffened. She didn’t want the man, who had saved her from being crushed under the rubble, to be one of those gentlemen who believed that brutal force had to be employed to conquer and dominate other people. He was a future marquess. No one had forced him to become a soldier. Less fortunate men didn’t have a choice but to enlist to save their families from starvation.
“May I ask for what reason you volunteered?” Gold, diamonds, spices, everything?
If he noticed her challenging tone, he didn’t show it. “I was deployed to Lias years ago. There’s a group of pirates, the Thorne Pirates they’re called, who keep attacking and terrorising the people on the island. They come and pilfer as they please.” He stroked his cleft chin, lost in his thoughts.
“I see. They’re competing with the empire.” She arched her brow.
Instead of reproaching her for her sarcastic comment, he let out a bitter chuckle. “Alas, I wish the pirates cared only about silk and spices.” He turned towards her, emerald eyes going hard and cold like the gems they resembled. “The Thorne Pirates trade in slaves. They take everyone they can snatch, making no distinction between women, old people, or children. Their victims are never seen again. In fact, the pirates ignore offers of gold or jewels in exchange for the kidnapped. It seems that slaves are more valuable.”
She held her breath for a moment. “That’s awful, but why do you want to help? What motivates you?” She dispensed with sarcasm, genuinely wanting to know the answer.
“I hate injustice. My grandfather fought in the Napoleonic Wars. He said Napoleon was a tyrant who didn’t care about how many of his men died as long as he could get what he wanted. That was what motivated my grandfather to go to war. He wanted to stop Napoleon from conquering all of Europe,an endless bloodbath. My father shares the same sentiment. I want to fight for a purpose, to protect those who can’t protect themselves, not to let powerful people become even more powerful.”
She sagged against the leg of the altar in relief. At least he wasn’t one of those men who enjoyed violence for its own sake. “I’d be terrified to face slave traders. Aren’t you afraid?”
He reclined his head, exposing his strong neck and Adam’s apple. “Yes, I am. That’s why I came here.” He pointed in the direction of where the beautiful stained-glass window had been. “My mother is buried in the church’s graveyard. She was born in Colchester. I came to tell her I was leaving and that I might meet her soon.” A corner of his mouth quirked up. “One way or another.”
“I hope you return home safe and victorious.” She tentatively closed her hand around his, putting all her admiration for him into the gesture.
He whipped his head towards her, his lips parting in surprise.
She removed her hand. “Apologies.”
“Don’t. I appreciate your concern. I’m ready to die, but I don’t want to.” He chuckled nervously. “We came quite close to dying today. I wonder if it’s a sign that I should stay here or a good omen since we survived.”
“I’d take it as a good omen. I think your cause is a noble one. Not many people care about the lives of distant inhabitants of the empire.”
“It’s a pity.” He winced as he stretched his legs again and shifted his position. “The other reason why I want to go is because of the colours, the food, and the nature.” His smile was broad and genuine now. “When I served in Lias, I made many friends. If you open yourself to the islanders’ culture, they’ll welcome you with all their hearts. The first time, I stayed in amagnificent room with red stucco parrots in relief on the walls. They were coloured so vividly I could believe they were real. I expected them to fly away. When the weather became too hot, I would press my cheek against the cool wall.” He spoke with such passion she couldn’t help but wish to see those distant places too. “And the music there is booming with a quick tempo. I love it?—”
Loud voices came from the other side of the wall of rubble, cutting him off.
“Is there anyone here?” a man shouted. “Anyone?”
“Yes. Help!” she said at the same time as Ethan said, “We’re under the altar.”
“How many of you? Are you injured?” The man’s voice came muffled through the masonry.
“Two people. No injuries,” Ethan said.
“Stay still,” another man said. “We’ll take you out in a moment.”
The man’s prediction turned out to be rather optimistic.
The moment became a few stifling hours of fear of being squashed by a loose piece of marble. But with each stone and wooden log removed, a slice of the sky came into view. She leant against Ethan, resting her head on his shoulder, too scared and tired to think about propriety. He covered her with his cloak and held her hand, shielding her every time a brick or a piece of masonry rolled too dangerously close to them. She clamped a hand over her nose and mouth as dust lifted into the air. The men’s voices and the grinding stones were the only sounds.
