Page 13 of The Noble's Merman

Eventually, Kent pulled his hand away, and Mo silently mourned the loss of his gentle fingers.

“I should probably be heading back,” Kent said, sounding reluctant to mention it at all. “It’s getting dark and I didn’t think to bring a lantern. But we’ll see each other again, right?”

“Of course. Same place, same time of day again?”

“Yes, that’s good. However…” Kent bit his lip, and rubbed his elbow. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to come out tomorrow. Perhaps the next day, if not.”

“Whichever day you can, I will be here,” Mo reassured him with a nod. “I will wait here every evening around sunset for you to return.”

“You—you really would do that?” His eye lit up, sparkling with hope.

“Yes, absolutely.” Mo chuckled. “I don’t have anywhere better to be. Nowhere else I’d rather be than meeting with you.”

Kent smiled, so undeniably affectionate. “You don’t have a family to tend to? Responsibilities?”

“No, none of that. I live by myself, on my own terms.” Mo noticed Kent idly raise his hand, and this time, Mo took his chance. He grabbed the human’s hand, cradling it delicately in both of his. “I promise, I will be here for you.”

Kent’s shoulders relaxed, cheeks flushing to that sweet shade of red again. “All right. And I promise to be back too, as soon as I can manage.”

Mo gave Kent’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze as he gazed upon his face. Oh, how beautiful he was, with his soft features, long eyelashes, his delectable smile.

After too long of a moment of staring at each other than perhaps was needed, Mo finally let go, and Kent stood up. He held the book by his chest with one hand, giving Mo a wave with his other. “Do you need any help getting back into the water?”

“No, I can manage,” he said. “I hope to see you soon, Kent.”

“Same to you, Mo.”

And he made his way back up the beach, toward the trees, and Mo watched from the shore until he was completely out of view.

SIX

Every now and then, Kent enjoyed going to the barber-surgeon in Portsmouth to volunteer. He had a degree from Oxford in physicianship, but that meant little when it came to surgery. When he was younger his mother had taught him how to care for wounds, using precision with a needle, and he felt it worthwhile to help out at the barber-surgeon if he could, despite it being unconventional for someone of his status. Regulars came in for their daily shave, a few people came in for their stitches that needed care, and one person even stopped in from a carriage accident—having fractured their arm after a fall.

Kent was glad to arrive home. He needed some time to relax, and hopefully if all went well, he could meet Mo at the beach again. Nothing was planned today: no events to attend, no dinner parties, no promises or other obligations. Something could always come up unexpectedly, but he hoped for the best. He handed his tricorn hat to Turner who greeted him at the door, then he decided he could freshen up with some more reading in his library. Perhaps not the history book again—he’ll savor that for reading along with Mo—but perhaps one of the legends of merfolk instead.

“Kent! Glad to see you home.”

Kent sighed as he turned his head toward the earl. “Thank you. You as well, Father.”

“You have nowhere to be until dinner, do you? Please, join me in the drawing room.”

It wasn’t a question or a suggestion, but rather a command. Herbert lifted his hand and curled his finger for Kent to come forth, and he led the way from the antechamber into the drawing room.

Herbert Wilson sat down on one of the elaborately carved arm chairs, ringing a small bell on the low table in front of him for a servant to grab them both tea. Kent took the chair opposite to him on the other side of the table. No matter if relaxing at home or out for the evening, his father was always dressed exquisitely. With his deep red frock coat edged with golden embroidery, black shoes polished to perfection, Herbert also wore his long and proper periwig, curls almost reaching down to his waist.

“So, Kent, I hadn’t had the time to speak with you after Rutland’s party. You looked as if you were having a splendid time; did you enjoy your dance with Miss Jaggard?” he asked with such conviction that Kent could tell that he shouldn’t answer with anything other than ‘yes’.

And so, he did. “Yes, of course. Miss Jaggard was quite lovely.”

“That’s wonderful.” The servant came by and set down their tea cups, Herbert thanking her before she went back on her way. “Miss Jaggard is one of the daughters of Baron Jaggard, you know. She comes from a fine family indeed. Shall I invite them over for dinner next week?”

“No, no, that shan’t be necessary.” Kent bent down in his seat to reach for his cup. “While Miss Jaggard was nice, I… I don’t wish to rush into things. If I wish to seek her company again, I will let you know.”

“It’s simply dinner, Kent. I’m not asking you to march her down the aisle.”

“I know, I know. But inviting her over might give them… um… the impression that I’d want to continue with that arrangement. Give precedent to keep coming, give Miss Jaggard the idea that I was hoping for more of her, when…”

“So you’re not interested in her,” the earl said in a flat tone.

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