My Fair Captain Read Online Free PDF Page A

time?”
    -25-

    J.L. Langley
    “Whom,” Cony corrected.
    “From whom this time?” Aiden automatically rectified his mistake.
    Having witnessed countless grammar lessons, Father never batted a lash. “Lord Braxton.”
    Aiden groaned. Braxton would expect him to be a societal and political paragon and further Braxton’s own political agenda—he’d practically said as much the other night. Aiden tried to get it across to Lord Braxton that he wasn’t interested, telling the man point-blank how important his artwork was, but apparently the man couldn’t take a hint.
    “You refused him, I hope.”
    “I told him I’d consider it after speaking to you.”
    “I don’t want a consort.”
    “Why ever not?” Cony asked. “Braxton is a good catch. He’s wealthy, connected, strong…”
    “And handsome,” Father added.
    Cony frowned, reaching across the desk to flick his spouse’s ear.
    “Ow.” Father slapped at Cony’s hand. “What? He is.”
    “He’s very influential in parliament and he comes from a long line of not only Regelence navy officers, but IN officers as well,” Cony continued.
    Aiden suppressed a grimace. If he could find someone as well suited to him as his parents were to one another, he might consider it. But Braxton wasn’t that man, even if he was handsome, with his tall, lean frame and his prematurely silver hair. “I want to be an artist. And Braxton is too…” Aiden waved his hand. “Overbearing.”
    Cony nodded his agreement. “Yes, the man does seem a bit dictatorial.” He gazed at Steven. “That can be troublesome.”
    Father scoffed. “I’m not domineering, Raleigh.” He looked back at Aiden. “You need to take a consort some time.”
    “Why? I want to paint and draw. I want a career in art, not helping some lord manage his estate, decide what investments to make and further his political career.” Aiden dropped his gaze to his lap and wrung his hands, feeling dejected. How could he make them understand?
    -26-

    My Fair Captain
    Cony pushed off the desk and knelt in front of him, taking his hands.
    “Don’t you want a family of your own?”
    Aiden shrugged. He had a family, a family he loved. Most of the time he even enjoyed being around them. Why did everyone think a man needed a consort and children to make him complete? Who really cared what family had what fingers in what pies? He didn’t want to be some trophy because of who his family was.
    Standing, Father walked around the desk and leaned on it a mere foot from Aiden. “We want you to be happy, Son. And we want you to be safe, to know you’re taken care of. It seems every time in the past year you’ve gone off to draw somewhere, you’ve gotten yourself into a situation. The last two weeks alone you’ve nearly been trampled by a heard of cattle, almost fallen off a cliff and stung by bees.”
    It was only a handful of cows and they’d completely missed him—
    except for the one who stepped on his foot—how was he supposed to know Tarren’s dogs were going to chase a cat through the field behind them? And he’d been in no danger of falling off that cliff—even if he had skidded over it chasing his stylus—he’d merely been stuck on the outcropping until Jeffers notified someone. He’d gotten some great compositions of the creek from up there. And the bees, well in the future he’d be careful and make certain there weren’t any hives in the next tree he decided to climb. It had all been worth it though, he’d captured several nice pieces for his portfolio.
    “You must take a consort. It is the way of things. You will need a family of your own. Eventually, your brothers will all have their own families and your sire and I won’t be here forever,” Father said.
    Aiden rolled his eyes. His parents were a long way from the grave, they were only in their early forties. And by the time his brothers had children and spouses, Aiden would be well on his way to being a master artist. “Why can’t I