So spoke a man without children, Harriet thought wryly, but had the wisdom not to say aloud. It was a terrible shame really - Fitz's child would have been nearly eight years old which was a lovely age from what Harriet recalled her nannies telling her. Still, there was time, though she doubted this cruise would move them any closer to where she wished her son to end.

"Send me a postcard darling," she said with a long-suffering sigh, reaching out to stroke her son's cheek, forcing him to look at her. "And stay out of trouble."