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Adrien shrugged. “No, but isn’t that the inevitable fate of third sons?”
The bleak resignation in his brother’s eyes bothered Roland. “You are master of your own destiny. Our parents would never force you to become a religious unless you had a genuine calling.”
Adrien looked out at the roiling waves. “Clear sailing ahead, mon capitaine.”
His little brother clearly didn’t want to pursue the matter and Roland wouldn’t persist. In time, Adrien would find his true path. Roland was confident he had found his. “Keep a sharp eye out for English patrol boats,” he warned.
Back at the stern, Terric seemed to have acquired a knack for steering, which left Roland free to also be on the lookout. An hour after they’d sailed past the distant coastline of Guernési to the south, he deemed the danger of encountering patrol boats had passed. “Clear sailing now to Cornwall,” he yelled, his confidence bolstered by the resulting cheers of the crew.
* * *
Easing off his wet gambeson, Adrien pondered his brother’s words. What did the future hold for the third son of a noble family? He enjoyed learning, but the prospect of life as a religious held no appeal. Indeed, the loneliness of such a vocation terrified him. He may not have Roland’s charm when it came to women, but he wanted to be a husband, and a father.
Raking his fingers through wet hair, he admitted he craved what his eldest brother had—a loving wife and a family. The fanciful notion of the curse of the Montbryces appealed to him.
It was clear Roland fancied himself in love with Adelina. It was difficult to understand how that could be since the two had never met. However, if they did fall in love and marry, that would leave Adrien the outsider. He didn’t begrudge his brothers’ happiness, but what did he have to offer a woman? No lands, no title…the future didn’t look promising.
