Arnaud's very French mother,Honore, seemed tinier each time he returned from duty, but even now in her sixties, she still had the glow and light step of a much younger woman.
With his father missing at sea for many years and his grandfather, the Earl of Middleton, having disowned them, this diminutive woman was the only close family he had. And she ruled his absent father's shipping empire with an iron fist wrapped in silk.
He didn't relish telling her he would be turning around and heading back to sea as soon as his newly assigned ship's repairs were complete.
Instead, he said, "I have good news."
“Please sit, tell me everything.” She settled onto a cushioned window bench, and Arnaud sat with care on one of her delicate, chintz-covered chairs.
"You're leaving the Royal Navy?" she asked, a teasing light in her dark eyes.
"No,Maman. You know this is the life I've chosen, and it's been a very good one. I've been a commander in the squadron for a number of years, but now..." He held out his news a while longer.
"Now?" She encouraged him with a hopeful smile.
"I'm to be the captain of my own ship!"
In spite of what he knew to be her misgivings about his dedication to naval life, she jumped up and clapped. "Huzzah! What ship? When?"
"We seized her off Sierra Leone, with eighty-six slaves aboard," he said. “A great prize. We’ll re-launch her and leave as soon as her new mainmast is cured and rigged. My crew and I brought her back to Portsmouth after we resettled the captives."
“Why is the ship being repaired in Portsmouth instead of back in Africa?”
“The main mast took a direct hit during the battle with the slavers. The only wood the Admiralty wanted to use is at the yard at Portsmouth - good Baltic pine.
“How long will the repairs take?" His mother frowned.
"A month, maybe longer.”
"Wonderful. We'll have some dinner parties for your friends, and..."
"I'm afraid I'll be very involved in refitting my ship and affairs at the Admiralty.” He stopped his mother's tendency to blanket him in her world with a wry grin. "And then there is another serious matter which will take up much of my time, I'm afraid."
"And that is?" She turned her piercing gaze on him.
"I have decided to turn my life in the direction of domesticity."
His mother's brows rose as if taking wing.
"I'm going to ask the widow, Frances, Viscountess Fairfield, to marry me."
"Who?"
"She resides in Fairfield House on Pall Mall with her young son."
"When will you propose?" Air whooshed out of Honore as if she'd been holding her breath.
"Tonight, perhaps, and I hope I can expect your blessing."
"Why?"
"Why do I want your blessing?" he asked, his voice sharp.
"No. Why are you marrying a woman you barely know?"
Heat spread from Arnaud's stubbled cheeks down to his neck. "I know her very well,Maman."
The look she gave him could have melted the polished buttons on his jacket. He squirmed and loosened the top one.
