“What is it?”
“Young Lord Hollingford gave us quite a bit of trouble while you were gone, my lord. Last night, he climbed a tree and refused to come down.”
“And what did Lady Whitmore do?”
“She left him there and gave orders that when he came down, he would not have supper. He is in his room now, but I did promise the boy I would inform you of his actions.”
He wondered whether the boy was playing or whether he had witnessed any strangers approaching the house. Royce struck him as a shrewd, intelligent child. “Were you planning to thrash the lad yourself, Farnsworth?”
Scarlet suffused the man’s cheeks. “I would not dare, my lord. But the lad could use more discipline.” His color deepened to purple. “It is not my place to offer opinions, however.”
“No, it is not.” Even if the man was right, Stephen disliked the butler’s implication that Emily did not know how to discipline the children. “I shall speak with the boy.”
“Thank you, my lord.” The butler bowed, keeping his gaze toward the floor as he left.
Stephen went upstairs to his bedchamber and retrieved the tin horse he’d brought back from Hollingford’s house, days ago. Then he knocked upon the door to Royce’s room. The imaginary sounds of battle and cannon explosions sounded from the boy’s mouth. He entered quietly, watching as Royce clashed two tin soldiers in a pretend skirmish.
“I understand you were climbing trees again,” he began.
Royce stopped the battle and grinned. “Farnsworth couldn’t reach me. He looked like a sausage, red and puffing while he called for me to come down.”
It wasn’t hard to envision the butler protesting and shouting, but Stephen knew he had to be firm. “You must respect your elders. If you had fallen, you could have broken a bone. Perhaps your neck.” He reached out and settled his palm on Royce’s nape.
The boy scowled. “I never fall.”
“Maybe not, but your aunt was very worried about you.” Stephen reached inside his waistcoat and pulled out the toy horse. “Does this belong to you?”
Royce’s eyes widened, and a broad smile spread across his face. “It’s Horse! I thought I’d lost him.”
Stephen held the toy out of reach. “You owe Farnsworth an apology for your actions. And today, you will follow him about his duties, helping him in whatever task he commands you to do. A good soldier must learn obedience.”
Though distaste lined the boy’s mouth, Royce did not argue. Impulsively, the boy wrapped his arms around Stephen’s waist and hugged him. “Thank you, Uncle Stephen!”
The affectionate gesture caught him unawares. He had tried to hug his own father once, after William had died. The marquess had boxed his ears, claiming that he wanted to be left alone.
It angered him that his father could not grant him a kind word or an embrace. Awkwardly, Stephen patted the boy’s shoulder.
“You’re a good lad,” he said softly. “And a brave one.” He hated having to impart the news that the boy would be leaving, even temporarily. A direct approach was the best way.
“Royce, have you ever met your Great-Uncle Nigel?”
Royce shook his head. “He lives in India.”
“He used to live in India but not anymore,” he corrected. “You’ll be going to visit him tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to.” Royce made a neighing sound and placed one of the tin soldiers atop the horse.
Stephen stopped himself from saying,You have no choice. Instead, he said, “I wonder what sorts of adventures Nigel has had. Living in India, he must have seen many exciting things. He might even have one of those curved swords I’ve heard of.”
“Do you think he’s ever slit a man’s belly, like Anant?”
Stephen held back a smile. “You could ask him and find out. It would only be a short visit. A few weeks, perhaps. Would that be all right?”
Royce pondered the idea. “I want to stay here with you and Aunt Emily.”
“All of us can go together,” Stephen suggested. “Victoria wishes to go and hear his stories. She’s told me how eager she is.”
At that Royce shot him a suspicious look. “Babies can’t talk.”
