“Not at all,” Captain Hardy assured him.
“I’ve been told I’ve nice eyes.” Delacorte was indignant.
“They’re lovely,” Lucien agreed, and Captain Hardy laughed.
“Fine pair of eyes you have there in your head, Delacorte,” Marchand contributed. “I bet they work really well, too.”
“Like nobody’s business!” Delacorte confirmed stoutly.
“I suppose pulling faces makes everything twice as funny when you’re a child,” Marchand told Delacorte. “It’s like adding chocolate sauce on top of blancm—”
“Don’t say it!” the other three men implored in unison.
Marchand grinned.
“At least I didn’t make Danielcryby just looking at him, like you did, Hardy,” Delacorte said.
“It wasn’t so much how I looked, as what I said,” Hardy maintained. “Which was ‘How do you do, Daniel.’ And for some reason that shattered him.”
“I’m very certain it was both how you looked and what you said,” Lucien said remorselessly.
Delacorte nodded. “You have a look, Hardy.”
“I have alook?”
“Do the look, Delacorte,” Lucien urged. “Hardy’s ‘I’m going to have you flogged for insubordination’ look.”
“Youdome?” Captain Hardy was stunned.
Mr. Delacorte planted his hands on his hips and glowered sternly, eyebrows drawn together.
Lucien and Delacorte laughed. Marchand thought it was wisest not to laugh, though all of this was impossible not to enjoy.
Captain Hardy was speechless.
His jaw dropped. “Whenhave I ever planted my hands on my hips that way?”
“Well, that’s just my interpretation of it. I was embellishing.” Delacorte was unrepentant.
“So a bit the way Daniel embellished with his crossed eyes,” Hardy retorted.
“If you like,” Mr. Delacorte allowed pleasantly.
“It’s probably not your fault, Hardy. That look. The army and all that. And I’m mostly immune to it now,” Lucien told him. “It’s useful in our business. Strikes fear into the heart of anyone who might dream of crossing you. Withers crops on the vine.”
Captain Hardy half laughed, half sighed. “It’s not too soon for Daniel to get used to it. Who knows? He might want to join the military.”
“He’s only four years old,” Bolt reminded him.
“The military will straighten his eyes out for him,” Delacorte said darkly.
“He stared atyouas if you were a looby,” Captain Hardy pointed out to Lucien. “Because you spoke to him as though he was applying for admission to White’s.Tally hothereold chum.”
“Thatis a terrible imitation of Bolt,” Mr. Delacorte told him. “But that is basically what you did, Bolt. I’d hide behind a woman if you used that voice on me, too.”
“I wasn’ttryingto imitate Bolt,” Captain Hardy said irritably.
Lucien’s English was still subtly haunted by his mother’s native French, and his cadences and word choices were, too.
