The Fairest of Them All by Cathy Maxwell

maturity doing the thinking.”
    Jack’s comment startled a snort out of Ben, one he quickly stifled after a glare from the duke.
    But Jack was not put off by Gavin’s disapproval. “You wanted the story. I’m giving it to you. I ­traveled with them to Portsmouth. The troupe was playing in a fair and I found myself cast in a role. I rather liked acting and I certainly enjoyed the lass, so, if someone was searching for me—­and on my word of honor, I was not aware of any search—­then, no, I did not want to be found. Unfortunately, my life took a bad turn. I was taken by an impress gang.”
    â€œYou were impressed?” Ben repeated.
    â€œAye. I served on His Majesty’s ship the Hornet . They needed a crew for the Indies since most of theirs had succumbed to fever on the last run, and they chose me.”
    â€œDid you tell them who you were?” Gavin demanded.
    â€œSo often it earned me a lashing,” Jack assured him. “They had no desire to hear me claim to be a duke’s son, especially to a man as important as Father. It would have been far easier for them to toss me overboard than reckon with the Duke of Baynton.”
    â€œThat was not right of them,” Ben said.
    â€œTrue, but I found I liked the roving life. I’ve seen Bombay. I’ve sailed around the Horn and ­enjoyed my time in the West Indies. I became the Hornet ’s storekeeper. However, the first chance I had, I jumped ship.”
    â€œAnd you didn’t think to come home?” Some of the anger had left Gavin’s tone.
    â€œI would be a wanted man,” Jack explained. “The Crown does not look kindly upon deserters.”
    â€œWe would have taken care of that misunderstanding for you,” Gavin said.
    â€œAye, but after four years of living by my own wits, I’d come to like it. I was in an American port, Charleston, and I started walking until I couldn’t see the ocean.”
    â€œThen what did you do?” Ben asked.
    â€œI trapped, traveled around, married.” He said the last evenly as if it was of no consequence, but it was—­and, of course, Gavin caught it.
    â€œYou are married?”
    â€œI was.” Jack glanced over to the cabinet with the whisky decanter and moved toward it. He needed a drink. He could be calm, reasoned . . . until he let himself remember. He poured himself a healthy amount and took a swallow, ­letting the smoke of very good whisky ease a hated memory.
    â€œChildbed fever took her.” Jack drained his glass in one gulp. “It was a difficult birth. My son was stillborn.”
    For a moment there was silence, and then Ben said, “I am sorry.”
    â€œAs am I,” Gavin agreed.
    A hard lump formed in Jack’s throat the way it always did when he let himself remember too much. “She has been gone seven years.”
    â€œWhat was her name?” Gavin asked.
    â€œHope.”
    â€œWhat was your son’s name?”
    Jack paused a long moment and then said, “Daniel, after her father.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Ben said.
    Gavin picked up his own glass and swallowed before saying, “As I am as well.”
    Jack set his glass on the cabinet. He now turned it thoughtfully as he finished his tale. “I had a farm at the time. There was nothing left for me there so I sold it and decided, ironically, to return to school. I attended Harvard College, studied law, and apprenticed under a man I admire, Caleb Strong. I started my practice in Boston. After so much time in the wilderness, the city suits me.” He took a step away from the cabinet. “So there is my story. That is where I’ve been. And now I’m here because our two countries are dangerously close to going to war.”
    Gavin made a restless movement as if the change of subject to Jack’s purpose annoyed him. “And this is why you have finally returned? To persuade us to do