was not unwelcome, as it reminded him of her disheveled state when she had come undone at the touch of his fingers. He drew in a sharp breath as his breeches became too tight.
Mrs. Forbes exchanged a look with Miss Hart, then rose from her seat. “I trust the silver won’t be too taxing for you, sir,” she said. “If you perform satisfactorily, then next time you visit, I may permit you to serve tea in the parlor.”
She approached Lilah, and the two exchanged a quiet word, then she kissed the baby on the cheek, patted the toddler’s head, and left the kitchen, closing the door behind her.
Lilah joined him at the table, and the child fidgeted in her hand.
“Let me help,” Fraser said.
“Take Will. He’ll be less trouble.”
Fraser reached for the child, but the boy shrank back and buried his head in her skirts.
“I can think of better places to hide than a lady’s dress, young man,” Fraser said. “There’s barely enough room for her legs. And when she moves, you must move with her to avoid discovery. I prefer to hide somewhere much more exciting, such as the coal cellar. You could remain there for hours undetected.”
The child turned to face him, curiosity in his expression.
“Of course,” Fraser continued, “I wouldn’t hide in the coal cellar during winter. Imagine what would happen if you were shoveled into the fire by mistake?”
He lowered himself onto the floor until his eyes were level with the child’s. “What say you, young sir? Would you relish the prospect of being roasted on an open fire? I daresay if we surround you with a few potatoes and a carrot or two, you’d make a tasty meal.”
The child giggled, and Fraser lifted him into the air.
“So, young man, what would you like to do when you’re older?” he asked. “Are you an adventurer? Perhaps a privateer who’ll make his fortune on the seas?”
The child’s eyes lit up. “Would I get to fight pirates and brigands?”
“I daresay ye would. A captain must lead by example and show he’s stronger than the rest of his crew.”
“I should like to fight,” the boy said.
“Really!” Miss Hart said, disapproval in her expression. “He’s too young to be discussing such things.”
“It is never too soon for a boy to learn how to be a man,” Fraser said.
“He’s a child,” she chided.
“And he lives in a man’s world. You wouldn’t want him to hide in his mother’s skirts all his life, would you?”
Fraser turned to the child. “Of course, a man, even a seafaring captain, must be gallant.” He winked at Miss Hart, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“In order to truly become a man,” he said, “you must learn to protect those around you, as well as think for yourself.”
“I should like that,” the child said. “Then, I can look after Mama and my sister.”
“Shall we learn the skills of a man together?” Fraser asked. “See this silverware here? A gallant knight must learn to take care of his sword by cleaning and polishing it.”
He pointed to a butter knife. “This,” he said, “is a similar shape to a scimitar, used by the Moors during the crusades. Imagine how silly the warriors would have looked if their blades were dull and lifeless on the battlefield. Now picture the blade shining in the sunlight, flashing with light, fire, and determination.”
The child picked up the knife and inspected it.
“Shall you tend to your sword, Sir Will?” Fraser asked.
The boy picked up a cloth and began rubbing the knife with it.
Lilah smiled. “I’ve never heard such a ridiculous speech be employed in order to acquire free labor from a child,” she said. “You are to be commended, sir, for you seem to have a natural talent when it comes to children.”
“Careful, Miss Hart,” he said. “That is dangerously close to a compliment.”
He addressed the child, though he fixed his gaze on Miss Hart. “I do believe, Sir Will, that I’ve just won a victory. I have earned praise from my harshest critic.”
She let out a laugh. “I doubt I’m your harshest critic when there must be so many to choose from.”
“Perhaps not my harshest,” he said. “I’ll leave that thorny crown for the despicable Jeremiah Smith and his confounded essays.”
She flinched and looked away.
“Perhaps,” he said, “a more fitting label for you, is that of the critic whose opinion I most value.”
She colored and dropped her gaze to the baby in her arms.
“Of course,” he continued, “I could say the same