“Halloo, Weasels,” he called to the boys.
“You see, m’lady,” challenged Raven. “His Lordship doesn’t give a rat’s arse about calling us by a heathen moniker.”
Charlotte bit her lip in exasperation. Given the earl’s penchant for sarcasm, this was not likely to end well.
“I seem to have intruded on some sort of altercation,” he murmured. “Pray tell, what’s the problem?”
“Never mind,” she said through gritted teeth.
He arched a brow.
“She wants us te have proper English names,” volunteered Hawk. “So when we move te a new neighborhood no one will know we’re nuffink but orphan guttersnipes.”
“It’s bloody stupid and I won’t do it!” cried Raven hotly. “I refuse te be a Charles or a Nathaniel—or any other cursedly idiotic name.”
“Merde,” muttered Charlotte and then tried another tactic. “Come, there must besomechoice that doesn’t make your skin crawl.”
Raven’s expression turned even more mulish.
“Ye god,” murmured the earl. “All thissturm und drang, when the answer is laughably simple.”
She fixed him with a look of mute appeal. “Please, sir, this isn’t a game.”
“Allow me to explain,” he replied.
She hesitated and then gave a brusque nod. So far, all her arguments had been for naught. There was little to lose.
Wrexford turned to Raven. “Pick a proper Christian name—any choice will suffice.”
“But—”
“Just do it, lad.” A note of command edged his voice.
The boy drew in a wary breath. “What was yer brother’s name—the one who’s dead?”
“Thomas,” answered the earl softly.
“Then I choose Thomas.”
“Excellent.” Wrexford performed an elaborate formal flourish.
Drat the man—he was clearly enjoying himself, thought Charlotte.At my expense.
His deep, plummy voice drew her back from her momentarybrooding. “Allow me to present Thomas Ravenwood Sloane—known to all as Raven.”
Charlotte started to speak but he waved her to silence. “In the beau monde, men are very rarely called by their Christian name. It’s a time-honored tradition that you acquire a nickname. I am always called Wrex, John Nottingham Allerton is Notty . . .”
The earl shrugged. “So there you have it—two birds with one stone, if you will. The lads need only mention their full names once, and then never have to deal with the question again. And you have what you need for any official purposes.”
“Yeah, I s’ppose I can live with that,” allowed Raven.
“But I—” she began.
“If you are concerned about the choice of Sloane as a surname, my thought was, you can explain the lads are orphaned relatives from your late husband’s side of the family. Again, it seems the simplest solution, but it is entirely up to you if you wish to choose another.”
She drew in an uncertain breath. “No, what you suggest makes sense.”
“Excellent.” Wrexford shifted his gaze to Hawk. “Your turn.”
