David didn’t brighten up. “But it’s impossible.”
“Why would you say that? You’re young and clever. You can learn languages if you want to.” He waited for David to talk, but the boy shifted on the chair and fiddled with the fork without saying anything. “What is it? You can tell me anything.”
“I can’t read well,” David whispered like a confession. “Lord Roxbury says I’m too stupid to read. If I can’t read, how can I study and become an interpreter?”
Ethan had always wanted to punch the daylights out of David’s father but never as much as at that moment. Anger soured his mouth, ruining the excellent work of his cook. How dared Roxbury call this boy stupid and crush his dream?
He had to push down his temper not to scare David. “Listen to me very carefully.” He leant closer to David and dipped his head to catch the boy’s gaze. “You are not stupid. I don’t give a damn about what your father says or doesn’t say. I’ll find you a good tutor who knows languages, and you’ll become whoever you want to be, and to hell with Lord Roxbury.” He wouldn’t apologise for cussing.
David’s bottom lip quivered. This child deserved a better father and desperately needed one. David hung his head, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Ethan could bet Roxbury had ordered his son not to cry out loud for any reason.
“David.” Ethan scraped his chair closer to the boy, not sure about what to do. If he hugged David, would the boy accept the hug or recoil? When he’d been thirteen, he’d hated hugs and kisses. “I know he hurt you, but the things he said aren’t true. You aren’t stupid. You’re a clever, brave boy, and I’m proud of you. I wish I had a son like you.” He put a tentative hand on David’s shoulder.
David didn’t smile as much as Ethan had hoped. “I don’t want to return home to him,” he whispered with broken words. “I don’t want to see him again.”
“Then you won’t. I promise you that together we’ll do everything to keep you and your mother away from him.” Ethan wasn’t prepared for the sudden, fast hug from the boy.
David threw himself off the chair and wrapped his arms around Ethan’s neck, sobbing in earnest now. His slim body shook with the power of his outpouring. Ethan returned the hug, and the moment he did that, David clung to him like a vine, desperate and exhausted. Ethan held him, letting him vent his anger and sadness. Too much sadness for a boy so young. The boy’s pain hurt him. He vowed to keep David and Cora safe, no matter what.
He caressed David’s curls. “You’re going to be all right. No one can force you to stay with Lord Roxbury.”
When David’s sobs died down, he sagged against Ethan. “I hate him,” he said. “I hate my own father.”
Ethan couldn’t imagine hating his own father. For David, it had to be devastating. “With time, the hate will quench and won’t hurt anymore.” He took David’s face and wiped his tears. “You need to sleep now, and no more chores, all right?”
David’s face reddened from the crying.
“I’m not going to throw you out for any reason.”
“All right,” David said with a small voice.
They went upstairs together. David leant against Ethan, seeking comfort, which was likely the scariest thing that had ever happened to Ethan. He’d rather face pirates and highwaymen than worry about doing or saying the wrong thing and hurting David. He could protect people from physical threats, but emotional ones were another matter, and he wasn’t the best person to comfort others. The visceral need to protect David andCora was undeniable though. He might not have the right words for every situation, but he would do his best.
Ethan led David to his bedroom. “You must be exhausted.”
“A little.” David climbed onto his bed with sluggish movements, his eyelids drooping. “May I leave the oil lamp on?”
“Of course you may.” Ethan tucked the boy in the bed. It was amazing how David could go from being a child to being a man in a moment. Now he was just a boy, terrified and confused.
David took Ethan’s hand. “Will you stay here until I fall asleep, please?”
Another surge of affection swelled in Ethan’s chest. He might burst out crying too.
He sat on the chair next to the bed. “I won’t leave you.”
As he watched David fall asleep and his chest rising and falling slowly, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Not that he didn’t want to help David, but he wondered if he could keep his promises. He ought to make a decision between taking full responsibility for David and Cora or simply helping them escape from Roxbury. He hadn’t expected the fast, deep attachment to the boy, or the possessive urge to protect Cora. But here he was. And he was frightened.
As David fell asleep, his hand slipped out of Ethan’s, and a quick shot of panic sliced through Ethan as if he were about to lose David.
Yes, Ethan, the soldier who had been awarded a Victoria Cross for bravery, was more scared than he’d never been.
fourteen
CORA WINCED AS she sat upright in the bed. Her shoulder burned, her arm throbbed, and a funny taste lingered in her mouth. Not to mention the constant worry gnawing at her. She expected Jacob to barge into the bedroom and drag her away. His silence bothered her. Either he was halfway to the grave, or he was plotting. Both options were terrifying.
She probed the tight bandage. Ethan had done an excellent job. Without him and his blood, she would be dead, but she couldn’t allow herself to lower her guard. Jacob would soon search for her and David, and she wouldn’t let Jacob hurt David again. Never.
She had to ask Ethan for a higher sum if she wanted to leave. She ought to be quick, especially since Jacob was aware of her connection with Mrs. Delois. Once she and David were in Brussels, she’d find somewhere safe to stay, a place where Jacob wouldn’t find them.
