Free Loving a Lost Lord by Mary Jo Putney

engineer glanced at the stump where his right hand used to be. “I…I canna be doing the work I did before.”
    â€œHands can be hired. My uncle is interested in a man’s mind and experience. I’ll let him know that he might hear from you.” Kirkland reached inside his coat for a small notebook. “Now, what are the names of the other survivors, and do you know where they’re to be found?”
    By the time they left, Mrs. Mactavish was happy enough with her visitors to have served them tea and cakes. Back in the carriage, Randall asked, “Is your Uncle Dunlop really looking for engineers with steamboat experience?”
    â€œIf he isn’t, he will be,” Kirkland replied. “He became one of the best shipbuilders in Britain by hiring good men. He’ll be happy to have this one.”
    Randall settled back in his seat. They might not be much closer to finding Ashton, but at least someone had benefited today.

Chapter Seven
    He was a boy roughhousing with other boys. “See, this is how you throw someone.” He demonstrated on a blond lad, using the methods he’d been taught to toss his opponent onto a bed.
    The blond boy was first shocked, then gleeful. “Show me how to do that!” he whooped.
    â€œMe too, me too!” echoed from the others in the room. He had been pleased to demonstrate, knowing that his fighting skills not only were fun and useful, but earned him respect.
    A tall, forceful woman entered the room as two of the boys were flying through the air at the hands of two others. Instant silence except for the flopping of small bodies onto mattresses.
    She surveyed the scene, and he could have sworn he saw amusement in her eyes. “I see I shall have to set you lads to playing ball games before you kill each other from an excess of energy. You’ll have to play with the village boys, though, because there aren’t enough of you in the school for a proper game of football or cricket.”
    A dark-haired boy with darker eyes said, “We’ll be better. Blood will tell, my father says.”
    â€œNot on an athletic field,” the woman said, unimpressed. “It will do you good to be defeated by boys with more skill than breeding.” Her stern gaze went to each of them in turn. “Time you got some sleep, and no breaking of the furniture!”
    They all nodded solemnly, then broke into giggles after the woman was safely away. There was no more tossing, though. The broad, cheerful-looking boy with brown hair brought out a tin full of ginger biscuits, which they shared as they sprawled on the beds and talked. Some talked more than others.
    He couldn’t remember names, or any of the conversation. But he felt the good will and affection that flowed among them.
    Friends. He had friends.
    Â 
    Adam awoke early, smiling with pleasure at the lingering remnants of the dream. A cautious stretch confirmed that the bruises and sore muscles hadn’t yet healed, but overall, he felt very well. He prodded his memory, wondering if that dream had been a piece of his past, or just a dream, inspired by his confrontation with George Burke.
    His earliest real memories were still of being in the water, drifting ever closer to death. He recalled nothing before that, though the events since Mariah pulled him ashore were clear.
    Clearest of all was his fear when she was assaulted by her would-be suitor. He still wasn’t sure where he’d found the strength to heave Burke across the room. But he knew that if necessary, he would have smashed through locked doors to get to Mariah.
    Most vivid of all was the peace he felt when he and his wife lay down to rest after Burke departed. She had left him after an hour or two, with a gentle touch to his hair. Perhaps a kiss? He’d like to think so.
    He had slept for most of a day since, with occasional periods of waking, during which he ate, drank, and used the chamber pot. He also hazily