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“You insolent little bugger,” his father yelled and stepped towards Devin with a raised arm and closedfist.
“Cole, please,” his mother begged at the same moment several others in the room spokeup.
“Father,” both his brothersshouted.
“Grandfather please, pleasesir.”
Devin turned towards that voice. The boy, of perhaps eight, stood trying to pull against the hold of the woman behind him. The distraction was enough his father stepped close enough to deliver the blow heintended.
The solid click of a pistol’s hammer being pulled back silenced the room and stilled hisfather.
“Avast you,” Mia said her voice calm as the doldrums as she put the gun in his father’s face. “I’ve had a very pleasant week. I don’t intend to allow a blowhard like yourself to turn the tides. Now stepback.”
“You… you…” Cole Winthropsputtered.
“Step back, sir,” Mia said stepping forward. “Drop that fist and step back. Because looking around now, the only one in this room who’ll miss you should I shoot you dead will be you. Now stepback.”
“Mrs. Winthrop, where did you acquire a pistol?” Devin asked as his father backeddown.
“I carry it on the docks, Captain. But I was running behind to get here and didn’t stop to leave it at the offices,” she explained, and Devin wondered if she was being harassed there. “Waiting orders,Captain.”
He felt all eyes go to him, even his father’s, and Devin didn’t miss the fear in those ones. “Stand down,” he said, and Mia instantly dropped the gun and then eased the hammer forwardagain.
“I’m torn, Devin,” Mia said turning to set the gun on Porter’s desk. “He isn’t a pleasant man, but the rug is very lovely. Blood never comesout.”
Devin turned to look at her, saw her eyes drop down then flash back to his. Looking down he backed up and lifted his foot. “Did you add this here, Mia?” It was a lovely rug. Much like most of the high ranking members of the school had in theiroffices.
“England is too cold for bare floors, Captain.” Mia’s smile turned a little wicked as she faced Cole. “And not a shilling did you spend on it, him or me. Though if this is your wife,” Mia said pointing at Devin’s mother, “Well you might think to spend a few on her fashion, her coat is threadbare. Shame onyou.”
“Why you ins—” Colestarted.
“It’s quite fine,” Beth Winthrop insisted the way she’d insist her eye was fine even after it was swollen shut and black. “It’ll go another season.” Which meant she’d wear it like that until it fell offher.
“Have you no control over this woman you claim to be your wife?” his fatherasked.
“I kept her from shooting you,” Devin said clasping his hands behind his back. “Was that not enough control foryou?”
The snicker was loud but short and Devin couldn’t tell who made it, but the next one wasn’t so brief and all eyes went to Ronald who was trying rather hard not to laugh. “Well, he did, Father,” he said and the woman next to him still holding the boy against her pressed her lips together then pressed her mouth against hershoulder.
“It was really more about the rug, Captain,” Mia said. The remark ended everyone’s restraint and laughter filled the room. Devin was surprised to see his fatherchuckling.
“He’s changed, Robert,” Ronald said quietly. “A lot has happened, and he’s changed. Please give him achance.”
With a sigh, Devin relaxed and let his hands drop to his side. “What brings everyone to my door?” he asked and gestured they should move to the room where his desk was. There was more seating to be hadthere.
He waited until they were all in, not missing how the boy looked up at him much like his young students did. But as he closed the doors for privacy, it again became awkward. Leave it to Mia though. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes she crossed the room to the windows lifted one wide, which caused everyone to shiver, then leanedout.
“Mia, please,” Devin begged. If she fell over here she’d hit hard ground not water. Rather than come back in she flapped a hand at him then yelled out, “Hong Chin.” The rest was lost as in nearly a year Devin hadn’t learned more than two words of the language and he only knew those if spokenslowly.
“Do it,” Mia finished and leaned back, shut the window, and turned to face the group. “There now, sails up, food is on theway.”
“What language was that?” the boyasked.
“Robbie,” the woman who’d not so much as let him out of her reachscolded.
“It’s Chinese,” Mia said crossing the room and kneeling down in front of the child. “Though more a southern dialect, not the one heard in the forbidden city. Would you like to learn it?” she asked then spoke a short phrase and held out herhand.
The boy took it and though it was only a guess answered. “Robert AdamsWinthrop?”
