The Inventor's Son

Chapter 12: In Which There is a Small Debate About Names

IN SPITE OF ALL the events he'd endured, or perhaps because of them, Ethan finally fell asleep on the train from Calais bound south for Paris. All the excitement of the previous day must have kept Sophia awake, and as a result, it had appeared that Liam had endured a relentless barrage of questions from her while Ethan and Elizabeth slept.

"I do hope you've managed to recall your dreams, Ethan dear," Sophia said as he awakened while she stirred sugar in her tea from the breakfast cart.

Ethan gave her a glare. "Grandmother, I don't believe I wish to recall my dreams. Besides, I don't have my journal handy." Really, he had other priorities besides soothsaying and rune reading and dream journaling! Ethan took a deep breath, and silently thanked God when he exhaled with no coughing at all.

"Probably had a lot of dreams of people with metallic appendages," Liam joked.

Ethan snorted with ill humor. "I wonder what our good friends were dreaming about last night," he drawled.

"We shall hopefully be well rid of them, and it is best not to dwell on them," Sophia admonished him.

"I'm sorry, Grandmother. You're quite right. Besides, Father would certainly know how to deal with them."

"Is your father a soldier?" Elizabeth asked with interest.

Ethan smiled. He couldn't believe that the girl of whom he had caught the most fleeting of glances of last night, was now sitting beside him, asking questions about his life! "No. He's a scientist, an inventor, these days. He does a great deal of tinkering, and comes up with the most ingenious things. I reckon he and his friend in Paris could develop some sort of device to cause that monster to malfunction!"

"How fascinating! Do you help?" Elizabeth asked.

"Actually, I do."

Liam seemed thoughtful. "What has your father been working on these days? He's been busy, hasn't he?"

"Aside from...that item..." Ethan said carefully, not wanting to speak too much about it.

"What item?" Elizabeth asked him eagerly. "Does it fly?"

Ethan was a bit stunned that she was so close to accurate in her guess. "I can't really tell you, Beth. I'm sorry." His face grew hot under her scrutiny.

"I'll only forgive you on one condition. You simply must refrain from calling me 'Beth.'" she warned him.

Ethan blinked. If his face could grow any hotter, he was fearful it might fry off his skull. "Again, please forgive me, Elizabeth!" he stammered.

Her chaperon, a formidable lady whom Ethan had learned earlier was named Georgette, drew in a sharp breath. "Young lady, this is the boy that saved your life! That is a poor way of speaking to him!"

"I apologize, Ethan," Elizabeth said smoothly, and then handed Ethan some tea she had poured for him.

"Thank you," he responded, and did not even wait for sugar before he brought it to his lips. Ethan's mind was in a turmoil. He wondered how on Earth his father ever managed to court his mother. He could barely speak to this girl without tripping all over himself!

And then, Ethan wondered how he could do something as inconvenient as fall in love while on this journey? How could he be so stupid? What was the matter with him?

"Is the tea not to your liking? Perhaps you would like coffee instead?" Elizabeth asked him.

Ethan nearly choked before he answered, "Uh, oh, no, I mean, yes, I..."