Now she needed to find the little rascals. She hadn’t heard from them in at least half an hour. If they were too quiet, it usually meant they were getting into some form of trouble.
Vivienne strolled down the hall and paused in front of a large gilded mirror to check her hair and tuck back a wayward auburn curl. As she straightened the hem of her robin’s egg blue dress, her ears picked up the laughter from the young boys down the hall.
Hearing Lord John’s deep voice she knew the boys weren’t alone in the study. She knocked and waited for an invitation before stepping in. She was still a little shocked to find John with a boy at each side. Complete with rigging, cannons and masts, a three-foot ship’s model sat in the middle of the table. Charlie and Graeme’s faces were flushed with excitement. Vivienne cleared her throat and the three of them looked up.
“I suspected the boys were up to something, but I wouldn’t have guessed it was something productive. What are they helping you with?” she asked.
“They are actually helping.” Lord John smiled. “I wasn’t sure they would be interested in an activity such as model ship building, but they seem rather fascinated.” His green eyes sparkled. With his dark hair pulled back in a queue, his features were sharp and hard from the blunt jut of his jaw to his cheekbones. He was handsome without a doubt. Unlike many pale English noblemen she’d observed, Lord John’s skin was deeply tanned. The sleeves of his white linen shirt were rolled back to expose muscled forearms.
Oh my. Vivienne gazed at the black hair covering his arms and swallowed. He should roll his sleeves down in her presence, but then again she should not be staring. It was over a year since her husband’s death. Vivienne knew how indecent it was to think thoughts of his arms holding her. His hand caressing her. But she missed a man’s touch. Intimate or not.
“Mama!” Charlie shouted and ran to her side. Her son’s cry jerked her out of her daydream. “Graeme said it would be alright if I stayed here with Lord John.”
“Have you asked Lord John?” She looked up through lowered lashes, embarrassed by her son’s forward assumptions. “Please forgive Charlie. We lived in a much less formal dwelling before coming here.”
“Did you address each other by titles?” he asked.
“No. I’m afraid that was something we did not need to worry about.”
“Then, if you are in my presence, please call me John. I know what you said in the past, but it makes me uncomfortable. I know I should be used to it, but I fear I never will be. Lord John is my father’s title.”
“But…” Vivienne began.
“What if I insist as a Lord?”
She paused for a moment and then stepped closer to peer over their shoulders. “Can you tell me more about the ship’s model you are building, John?” His name felt strange and intimate on her tongue.
“It is a scale model of the warship, HMS Resolute. It is a barque-rigged ship of the British Royal Navy.”
“Was this a warship for the Crimea?”
“No. The HMS Edinburgh, the HMS Britannia and many more were used for the Crimea, but not this ship. The Resolute was specially outfitted for Arctic exploration. Last year she was found adrift by an American whaler in an ice floe off the Baffin Island, some 1,200 miles from where she had been abandoned.”
Vivienne ran her hand over the edge of the table and asked. “Did you fight in the Crimean War?”
“Yes.” He lifted the small piece he was working on and turned it in his hands. “I do not wish to be reminded of the battles I saw. The Crimean was bloody, brutal, and on land. This may be why I carry an interest in this ship. It was not there.”
She bent to take a closer look. “The details are amazing.”
“Thank you.” He handed Graeme a piece and pointed to where the boy should place it.
Vivienne watched him curiously. This amazing model was not created by someone with mental retardation as his father let her believe John had. Her cousin who, from birth, suffered from mental incompetence would never be able to build a model on this scale or anything else for that matter. Lord John placed each miniature detail with steady hands and no hesitations.
“May I sit?”
He gestured to the chair beside him.
“Thank you for spending time with Charlie. I know he misses a male figure in his life.”
He continued to work with the boys watching every move. “Your husband’s death?”
“He…” she swallowed as his memory rushed back. “Lucas died in the war.”