Chapter 21
“Hmm.”
Jacqueline drifted into a quiet reverie as she paced forward. Every so often, the reality of his former life would strike her with sudden clarity.
Those years must have been beyond anything she could fathom—a life spent navigating a vast, indifferent ocean, locked in brutal combat with marauding pirates.
Perhaps, in his mind, he had never truly left the front lines. He lived in a world where the cold steel of a blade or the weight of a pistol felt more natural in his hand than a gentleman’s cane or silk gloves.
“It is quite fortunate for you, Lord Preston, that I am a woman of keen observation.”
Jacqueline lengthened her stride to match his. Unlike a small child, Windsor moved with a brisk, commanding efficiency.
“I have a knack for noticing when someone has misplaced something.”
He spared her a fleeting glance, his eyes brushing past her cheek.
At some point, her frantic pace had leveled out; there was no longer a need to rush. Yet, the two of them continued to walk in perfect, synchronous step.
“In any case, Lord Preston, you really should endeavor to show Benjamin more attention. I recognize you are doing your utmost, but the boy clearly adores you.”
Windsor walked toward the distant carriage, absorbing her gentle reprimand in silence.
The whispers of the crowd at the department store remained as thick as they had been upon their arrival, yet he heard nothing but the sound of Jacqueline’s voice.
It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.
Miss Somerset must surely be a magical creature.
Benjamin watched Windsor’s profile out of the corner of his eye, his heart swelling with wonder. He could hardly grasp the reality of the moment—he was actually having tea with his uncle.
Despite living under the same roof for two years, they had never once sat down for a meal or a simple cup of tea together.
To ensure he wasn’t lost in a daydream, the boy gave his cheek a sharp, private pinch.
Stifling a tiny wince, he turned his focus back to Windsor—though, in truth, his gaze had never strayed for long.
Even as he sipped his lemonade, Benjamin’s eyes kept darting back to his uncle.
Every movement Windsor made while drinking his tea was the epitome of refined grace. Benjamin thought back to an old newspaper illustration he had seen of the man and imagined him seated on the deck of a great ship.
He pictured Windsor sipping tea with that same detached composure even as the vessel pitched and rolled against a violent sea. Somehow, the image fit him perfectly.
He truly was the Devil of the Black Fleet. Surely, the mere sight of his uncle on the horizon was enough to make pirates flee in terror.
“I have a few matters to discuss with you both before the banquet,” Jacqueline said, her tone shifting to one of uncharacteristic gravity.
Finally, Benjamin’s wandering attention snapped fully toward her.
“A banquet is far more than a mere party. It is a battlefield where no shots are fired—a place where those who love me and those who despise me mingle in the same room.”
“Yes, Miss Somerset.”
Benjamin nodded with the fervor of a dedicated student. Windsor, who had finished his tea with practiced calm, watched her with a quiet, measuring look.
He could never quite predict her. Jacqueline was like a kernel of popcorn—liable to snap and jump in any direction without warning.
“Following the passing of Lord Jeffrey Preston, the two of you… I am so sorry, Benjamin. I truly grieve for the loss of your father.”
“It’s quite alright, Miss Somerset,” Benjamin replied with a poise that felt far too old for his years.
Jacqueline looked at him with a flash of maternal pity before nodding softly, offering a silent prayer that one day he might truly find peace.
“After that tragedy, you both remained secluded on your estate. You’ve had little opportunity to navigate the social waters of the capital. Unlike the nobility in the provinces, the peers here are… a particular breed.”
She chose her words with care, swallowing the word “treacherous” before it could escape.
“Benjamin, you will be the guest of honor. You will be expected to greet many guests. I want to give you a few essential points to keep in mind.”
“Yes, Miss Somerset.”
Benjamin’s intelligent eyes shone with focus, though he stole another glance at Windsor, wondering why his uncle was sitting in on this session.
Then, memories of their recent etiquette lessons resurfaced. Windsor had been present for those as well.
Uncle still doesn’t quite trust her, Benjamin thought. I must do my best to prove her worth to him.
With renewed resolve, he stared intently at Jacqueline.
“In reviewing the guest list, I identified several individuals who require special caution.”
As she spoke, Jacqueline glanced toward Windsor. He was leaning back, legs crossed, holding his cup with a relaxed hand as he listened.
“Yes, Miss Somerset!” Benjamin chirped.
Her lips twitched into a small smile at his enthusiasm. She always preferred a student who was eager over one who feigned indifference.
“Excellent. Listen closely.”
“I’m listening, Miss Somerset!”
“First, Baron and Baroness Lander. Some years ago, they suffered the tragic loss of their youngest daughter in a drowning accident. It is vital that you do not bring up the subject of children in their presence.”
“Understood. I won’t mention children at all,” Benjamin promised solemnly.
Jacqueline scanned the list again. “Next…”
“Baron Haines will be there. I understand his recent business ventures have failed spectacularly, leaving him in a dark mood. Do not discuss finances or trade with him. However, he is obsessed with the track. He will talk for hours about horses if prompted. You might even ask after his prize horse… Thunderbolt, I believe.”
“Yes, Miss Somerset. I’ll remember.”
“And, well…”
Jacqueline’s eyes stopped on a specific name. Windsor, who had been staring blankly at the table, sharpened his focus on her.
Seeing the tiny furrow in her brow, his own eyes narrowed.
“Count Saltrein… well…”
She hesitated, picking her words with extreme delicacy before finally speaking.
“It is best to avoid him entirely if the opportunity arises.”
“Yes, Miss Somerset,” Benjamin agreed dutifully.
But it was Windsor who broke the silence. “And why is that?”
Benjamin’s head snapped back and forth between them, shocked that his uncle had actually joined the conversation. He looked worried, as if Windsor might be cross-examining her.
“He is simply… not a very honorable man.”
Giving up on the polite euphemisms, Jacqueline spoke with blunt honesty and felt better for it.
“He is the sort of man who hunts for weaknesses to exploit. Many have met their ruin because of him. Yet, we cannot omit him from the guest list—he is a Count, after all. To use an analogy, he is like a raisin in a loaf of bread: you’d rather he wasn’t there, but somehow he’s always present.”
Benjamin nodded vigorously, though he made a mental note to never tell her he actually enjoyed raisins. He didn’t want to lower himself in her eyes.
“Just engage with him enough to be polite. There is no sense in turning a minor nuisance into a major enemy.”
“You are mistaken.”
Windsor’s contradiction was instantaneous. Benjamin’s eyes went wide, his gaze darting between the two adults once more.
“You think I’m wrong?” Jacqueline’s voice took on a sharp, defensive edge.
Benjamin, sensing the tension, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Windsor set his teacup down with a soft, deliberate clink.
He’s a brilliant student, Jacqueline thought, fighting back a proud smile while maintaining her challenging stare. Once he learns a lesson, he never lets it go.
“Lord Preston, are you suggesting one should actively antagonize minor enemies?”
Windsor shook his head. His gray eyes were as cold as flint, and his voice was devoid of warmth.
“I prefer to annihilate them before they ever have the chance to become a threat. Regardless of their size, I do not believe in leaving loose ends.”
Jacqueline was momentarily speechless, but Benjamin looked on with pure, unadulterated hero worship. He looked ready to cheer for the Devil of the Black Fleet.
Jacqueline let out a long, weary sigh.
“There is no single correct answer here, Benjamin. Whether you choose to ignore a small foe to keep the peace or strike them down before they grow—that is a decision you must make for yourself.”
“Yes, Miss Somerset!” Benjamin’s voice was full of conviction.
Jacqueline felt a shiver of apprehension. For a second, she had a vivid mental image of the sweet young boy ruthlessly crushing a foe under his heel.
“Hmm.”
She hummed softly and returned to the list. The lecture continued for some time, with Windsor serving as a silent, attentive observer.
Jacqueline paused on the spiral staircase, spotting a familiar figure crossing the hall below.
With his distinctive goatee and sharp cheekbones, there was no mistaking James Hammington. He looked livid, stomping away with a dark scowl.
Recalling the strange carriage that had arrived earlier, Jacqueline frowned. He must have been here to see Windsor.
She waited until he was gone before continuing down. As she reached the ground floor, the drawing-room door swung open and Windsor stepped out.
“Good afternoon, Lord Preston.”
He didn’t answer with words, offering only a curt nod. He began patting his pockets as he moved toward the stairs, and when he didn’t find what he was looking for, his hand lingered there in frustration.
“Is this what you’re searching for?”
Jacqueline held out a silk handkerchief. Windsor lifted an eyebrow.
“I found it in Benjamin’s quarters.”
“He mentioned he went up to review his progress for the week. I must have left it then.”
“So he said. However, I thought we had an agreement regarding my authority as his tutor. Was I mistaken?”
Jacqueline asked, her smile appearing perfectly pleasant.
