The eyebrow will stay, Fitzjames.

At least until he starts choking on his tea, bringing his stump to cover the sputtering and coughing.

Where was this man? Certainly not at any Admiralty gala or wardroom dinner he attended!

He takes a few quick breaths to stop himself from devolving into an undignified hiccup fit, then sets down his mug with a dull ‘thump’ on the table.

“Is that why you spent all those long hours slightly curling your hair?”