Page 35 of The Colonist’s Petition (Heirs & Heroes #2)

A more sedate young man entered, followed by a young girl carried in a nursemaid’s arms.

“Papa!” She held out her arms to be transferred to her father. The nursemaid curtsied and left.

“Mr. Whittaker, allow me to introduce you to my children. Master Patrick,” the boy bowed. “And Anne Charlotte.” The girl turned her head into her father’s shoulder, peeking out from under long lashes.

“Pleased to meet you both.”

“Is this the man from America?” asked Patrick.

“Yes, I am the man from America.” Johnathan answered for his father.

“Have you ever been scalped?”

“I’m afraid the tales of America’s native inhabitants are greatly exaggerated.” Johnathan easily delivered the rehearsed line he used over the last month when equally inane questions were asked.

Patrick’s smile faded and the sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “Oh. I suppose then they do not run about without any clothes on?”

“I believe they’re well dressed,” said Johnathan. “To be honest, I have only met three or four natives in my entire life. Once when I was about your age.”

“Really? They’re not everywhere?”

“No.”

“Then I shall have nothing to tell my classmates.”

“Oh, you can still tell them you’ve met an American. I much prefer coffee to tea, and I chop my own wood.” Questions at his first balls in London taught him that information about personal labor was not well received by ladies of the ton, which meant it might shock a young boy as well.

Both boys gasped at that, and little Anne Charlotte giggled.

“You chop wood?” Timothy’s shock was evident. “Are you not a gentleman?”

“Why would it not be proper to learn how to do hard work?” asked Lord Banbridge, crouching down until he was eye to eye with the boys.

“A man’s title comes about quite by happenstance because of his birth.

A man’s character comes about because he has cultivated it.

Learning to work, whether it is with difficult sums or chopping wood, helps a man build character.

Mr. Whittaker has built such a character, and he is unfailingly honest. He could have told you a story such as those you have read in your books about the American natives, but he did not.

I hope someday you are both such men as Mr. Whittaker. ”

“I’m afraid, sir, you give me too much praise. I have my follies, as we all do.”

Lord Banbridge stood. “I only wish my son not to judge a man only by his title, when there are so many other traits that make a man good.”

“I think I understand, Father,” Patrick said, turning to Johnathan. “It is not so shocking that you learned to chop wood. It’s just shocking that you admit it.”

Everyone in the room laughed.

A tea cart came in, and tea and sandwiches were served to all. Anne Charlotte stayed in her father’s lap, then ventured to Mrs. Hale’s side and allowed Mrs. Hale to prepare her a cup of tea so fortified by milk that it appeared to be entirely white.

As soon as the boys polished off the last of the biscuits, Mrs. Hale looked to the clock. “We need to leave. It has been continuing to snow, and we do not wish the coachmen or the horses to be caught out in a storm too late.”

Lord Banbridge went to the window. “I had not realized it was snowing quite so hard. If you wish, you could stay the night. I’m sure we can find a nightshirt for Timothy, and there would be room in the nursery.

I can prepare rooms for you and Miss Georgiana, or a room if you would rather share.

We do not wish to put you out, but as you have said, a night ride in the snow and ice could prove dangerous. ”

Mrs. Hale joined Lord Banbridge at the window. “It is quite deep. I have not seen a storm like this for some time.”

“I believe it was Christmas five years ago.”

“Yes, I believe you are right,” said Mrs. Hale. “We will accept your hospitality rather than endanger your servants.”

Lord Banbridge rang the bell and informed the footman of the change of plans. He turned to the small party. “Will your housekeeper worry about you?”

Mrs. Hale shook her head. “No, I gave her the night off, and she went to her sister’s.”

“Then there’s nothing left for us to do but find a way to amuse ourselves. Miss Georgiana, do you play?”

Georgiana shook her head. “One would think I did, but I can barely scratch out a tune. My eldest sister and my twin sister received all of that talent, I’m afraid.”

“Miss Hale? I recall your playing as quite fine.”

“I would hate to offend your ears. I no longer have an instrument upon which to practice.”

“What?” asked Lord Banbridge. “Was there not a lovely pianoforte in your music room. Was it damaged?”

Mrs. Hale dropped her head. “It brought a good price, and I needed the money.”

“You sold your pianoforte?” Georgiana’s jaw clenched.

“It was a gift to me. I owned it in whole. No need to tell your father.”

“You know I would not.” Georgiana took her aunt’s hand in support.

Lord Banbridge frowned. “I wish you had told me. I could have helped. Let me show you to the music room, and you may be reacquainted with the instrument.”

“I would not want to inconvenience you.” Mrs. Hale looked up at her host.

“Nonsense. Anne Charlotte finds my pianoforte most intriguing. I believe she would enjoy hearing it played.”

The little girl giggled.

“I must not disappoint her then.” Mrs. Hale stood, taking Anne Charlotte’s hand.

Johnathan looked to Georgiana to see if they should follow.

Instead of leaving, Georgiana walked to the window. Johnathan looked over his shoulder at the boys who were engrossed in a book on ships they found before he joined her.