Page 41 of Dukes Do It Better
Emma squatted next to him, adjusting the brim of her bonnet to shade her eyes from the sun. “Darling, that’s because it is not a breezy day. A sailboat requires wind to move. Besides, if it were to sail off down the Serpentine, you’d never see it again. Do you want to lose your toy?”
His shoulders slumped as he stooped and picked up the abandoned boat by her slipper. “I’ll try it again,” he said.
“You do that. Without the fit this time, if you please.”
A shadow darkened her son’s pale blond head. “Are we having sailing troubles? Perhaps I can help.” Mal loomed tall and dark over them. While a flutter of awareness tickled Emma’s belly, motherly instinct had her glancing at Alton. They’d met once before, but her son had been distracted by Phee. Truly, the captain presented a rather fearsome countenance. Even smiling, he was still large, wide, and rough looking. Which, judging by the warmth seeping through her body, was not a bad thing. But to someone Alton’s size, he might be intimidating.
Emma rose. “Captain. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Indeed. It’s almost as if I had a detailed missive apprising me of your schedule for the day.”
“What a happy coincidence.” Emma winked and he grinned. After the small revelation she’d had at the British Museum the day before, realizing she might want to show Mal more of herself than merely her body, she’d sent a note around inviting him to a casual picnic in the park. If all went well, she’d stop by his house this evening—although Mal wasn’t aware of that part of the plan.
Alton raised the boat between them. “Can you fix it?”
“Is it broken?” Mal asked.
“Well, it doesn’t work. Mama says I don’t want it to run off, but I want it to move.”
Mal shot a glance at Emma, his pale eyes sparkling with merriment before he looked back at Alton. “I do see your problem.” Without further ado, the giant bearded man sat down in the grass. Alton immediately joined him, the two of them knee to knee on the bank of the Serpentine. The toy boat looked ridiculously tiny in Mal’s hands.
“Do you remember me? We’ve met only once before, I believe. I’m a friend of your mother’s.” Mal’s question was the perfect blend of casual and informative.
Alton studied Mal, tilting his head. After a moment, he brightened. “You said I can call you Captain!”
“Yes. What an excellent memory you have,” Mal said.
With niceties dispensed, the men set to work.
Emma wasn’t needed in the conversation, but she stood there enjoying it nonetheless.
“You see the sail? It’s not catching the wind,” Alton said.
“That is a problem. You know, when you are at sea and get stuck in an area with no breeze, we call those doldrums. Some sailors get stuck in the doldrums for weeks at a time, bobbing in the same place in the ocean.”
“What can you do?” Alton asked.
Mal shrugged. “Not much. Some boats have oars. But I think our best bet for this situation with—what have you named your boat, lad?”
Alton shook his head. “It doesn’t have a name.”
Mal reared back with a hand placed dramatically to his chest. “No name? You’re courting bad luck to launch a ship without a name.” He handed the boat back to Alton. “No other efforts will be made to set sail until this ship has been properly christened.”
Alton seemed to understand the gravity of the situation and nodded seriously. “What do you suggest, Captain?”
Mal glanced up at Emma. “How about the HMS Beauty?”
Alton followed Mal’s gaze. “Because Mama is beautiful?”
Those light hazel eyes turned to her son. “Yes, because your mama is quite beautiful.”
Emma smiled at the pair. “I’d be honored to have a boat named after me.”
“The HMS Beauty it is! Now, how do we make it work without losing it?” asked Alton, handing the boat back to Mal.
Emma bit the tip of her thumb to contain a chuckle, and tried to ignore the sensation in her gut that felt like melted butter.
Mal turned the toy over in his hands. “Do you have a piece of twine?”
