What's this, now? You always had the sweetest voice when we were young. I can't imagine that's changed much. Besides, my poor singing isn't for want of practice; I've no natural inclination. I couldn't carry a tune if it were handed to me on a platter.

[ That's not entirely true but his voice is made for drunken sea shanties sung in taverns over flagons of ale--in other words, he's far too sober to attempt singing it now, and there isn't a tavern in sight.

Giving Joshua's shoulders another affectionate squeeze, Clive can't entirely hide the grin curling in the corners of his mouth. ]

There's no need to be shy when it's only the two of us.