been able to obtain a King’s Letter in any case. But my years at the college count toward my required six as a midshipman, so it’s not lost time.…”
But Jack saw that Lord Forrester’s attention had wandered from himself to just over his shoulder.
And the curtain that twitched ever so slightly there.
And suddenly, Jack found himself playing the game, too.
“Ah, Lord Forrester,” he said, inching himself ever so slightly to block the view of the curtain. “I am so terribly honored that you have invited me to dine. Indeed, I did not expect such kindness.…”
“You didn’t?” Lord Forrester asked, his surprised attention back to Jack. “Nonsense, my boy. I knew your father at school. And how is the good reverend? We were all shocked to learn he went into the church instead of the law … all the way up in Lincolnshire, of all places! He would have made an excellent politician.”
“Yes, well, my father always says he would much rather be doing than telling everyone else what to do.” Jack quipped, and turned red in the face before he could stop himself. After all, Lord Forrester was a peer! He was one of the tellers, not the doers! He had just insulted his possible future patron!
Luckily, Lord Forrester just leaned his head back and gave a hearty laugh.
“That sounds like old Dickey. And it goes without saying that I would see his son properly fed for at least one Sunday dinner.” Lord Forrester nonchalantly sidestepped Jack, so he was now standing next to the curtain. “And I think you’ll be pleased with the menu. We will be serving that rarest of all delicacies…” He reached his hand back behind the curtain. “Little girl!”
Lord Forrester whipped the curtain back, revealing Sarah and Mandy who began to shriek and run. While Sarah ran with direction and aplomb, little Mandy could do barely more than run on short legs in a circle.
Lord Forrester trotted after her, making sure to not catch her too easily. Because as she shrieked, she giggled, and Lord Forrester kept saying, “I’m going to get you and serve you up!” and she simply shrieked more. Then Mandy ran behind the couch, and the other brown-haired girl had to get up and run, lest she be discovered, too. Soon the entire room was filled with running girls, chasing father, and hysterical laughter.
No, he had not been expecting this at all.
Jack shook his head ruefully. Had he ever been that young and frightened? Waiting in a hall and surprised to learn that young ladies of rank played hide-and-seek with their fathers. Although the pit that existed in his stomach when he had been thirteen and waiting in a Forrester foyer was uncannily similar to the one that rested there now.
He scuffed his toe on the marbled floor, the squeaky sound echoing off the marble tiles. Given the clamor of well-dressed gentlemen—“holding their place in line”—who existed just outside the front door, it was alarmingly quiet in the Forrester’s town house, with only the tick of a grandfather clock to keep him company. He did not expect a reception by any means. He hadn’t written a reply to Lady Forrester’s letter, as they had docked in London before any such note would have arrived. But as that damned grandfather clock ticked on, he did begin to wonder if the supercilious butler had forgotten him.
“Perhaps he stuck his nose too high in the air, and it gotcaught on a cobweb,” Jack mumbled aloud, mollified by the echo that followed.
Jack was just about to try one or the other of the heavy doors that stood on opposite sides of the main hall, when the thudding of adolescent footsteps broke the silence, and a gasp floated down from the top of the stairs.
“Jack!”
And before he could formulate a thought, Jack found himself practically tackled by the young lady as she ran down the stairs and threw herself into his arms.
“Sarah?” he asked, disbelieving. The last time he had seen Sarah Forrester, she had been twelve, and just beginning
But Jack saw that Lord Forrester’s attention had wandered from himself to just over his shoulder.
And the curtain that twitched ever so slightly there.
And suddenly, Jack found himself playing the game, too.
“Ah, Lord Forrester,” he said, inching himself ever so slightly to block the view of the curtain. “I am so terribly honored that you have invited me to dine. Indeed, I did not expect such kindness.…”
“You didn’t?” Lord Forrester asked, his surprised attention back to Jack. “Nonsense, my boy. I knew your father at school. And how is the good reverend? We were all shocked to learn he went into the church instead of the law … all the way up in Lincolnshire, of all places! He would have made an excellent politician.”
“Yes, well, my father always says he would much rather be doing than telling everyone else what to do.” Jack quipped, and turned red in the face before he could stop himself. After all, Lord Forrester was a peer! He was one of the tellers, not the doers! He had just insulted his possible future patron!
Luckily, Lord Forrester just leaned his head back and gave a hearty laugh.
“That sounds like old Dickey. And it goes without saying that I would see his son properly fed for at least one Sunday dinner.” Lord Forrester nonchalantly sidestepped Jack, so he was now standing next to the curtain. “And I think you’ll be pleased with the menu. We will be serving that rarest of all delicacies…” He reached his hand back behind the curtain. “Little girl!”
Lord Forrester whipped the curtain back, revealing Sarah and Mandy who began to shriek and run. While Sarah ran with direction and aplomb, little Mandy could do barely more than run on short legs in a circle.
Lord Forrester trotted after her, making sure to not catch her too easily. Because as she shrieked, she giggled, and Lord Forrester kept saying, “I’m going to get you and serve you up!” and she simply shrieked more. Then Mandy ran behind the couch, and the other brown-haired girl had to get up and run, lest she be discovered, too. Soon the entire room was filled with running girls, chasing father, and hysterical laughter.
No, he had not been expecting this at all.
Jack shook his head ruefully. Had he ever been that young and frightened? Waiting in a hall and surprised to learn that young ladies of rank played hide-and-seek with their fathers. Although the pit that existed in his stomach when he had been thirteen and waiting in a Forrester foyer was uncannily similar to the one that rested there now.
He scuffed his toe on the marbled floor, the squeaky sound echoing off the marble tiles. Given the clamor of well-dressed gentlemen—“holding their place in line”—who existed just outside the front door, it was alarmingly quiet in the Forrester’s town house, with only the tick of a grandfather clock to keep him company. He did not expect a reception by any means. He hadn’t written a reply to Lady Forrester’s letter, as they had docked in London before any such note would have arrived. But as that damned grandfather clock ticked on, he did begin to wonder if the supercilious butler had forgotten him.
“Perhaps he stuck his nose too high in the air, and it gotcaught on a cobweb,” Jack mumbled aloud, mollified by the echo that followed.
Jack was just about to try one or the other of the heavy doors that stood on opposite sides of the main hall, when the thudding of adolescent footsteps broke the silence, and a gasp floated down from the top of the stairs.
“Jack!”
And before he could formulate a thought, Jack found himself practically tackled by the young lady as she ran down the stairs and threw herself into his arms.
“Sarah?” he asked, disbelieving. The last time he had seen Sarah Forrester, she had been twelve, and just beginning
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