by Carol Arens
Hopefully the Captain was better at manning the ship than he was speaking. How many times a day did he use a wrong word? she had to wonder.
Of course, there were worse things than speaking a mistaken word.
Madeline had done much worse and was in no position to judge anyone.
* * *
Rees could smell bacon and maple syrup. He smiled even though he was only dreaming the scent.
His belly grumbled and woke him.
The door was wide open. Bright mid-morning sunshine flooded the cabin.
He’d overslept! Missed hours of his shift!
Stiff from sleeping on the floor, he came to his feet, slowly working out the achiness that had settled in his joints.
‘Madeline?’ Where had she got to?
‘Here I am.’ Her face popped into view just beyond the doorframe. He was certain he would never get used to how engaging her smile was, how her blue eyes sparkled in good humour.
‘What are you doing out there?’
‘Sitting in a chair and enjoying the air. It’s what one does on a sunny day, is it not?’
‘Not in December.’
‘It is cold, but still there is sunshine and it’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed it.’
‘Come back inside and close the door.’
‘All right.’ She shut the door behind her, but her grin made it feel as though the sun had come in with her. ‘Are you feeling rested?’
Rested enough. ‘Is that really—where did you get bacon and syrup?’
‘In the first-class dining room. Look, we have strawberries, as well.’
‘How did you manage to get up there?’
‘The crew does not bother to lock the gate between decks. Naturally I did not admit that to Captain Collier, so I’m sure, if I put on my best manners, I can bring us dinner, as well.’
‘You spoke to Captain Collier?’
‘Of course I did. Since you were sleeping, you could not tell him you would not be working your shift today.’
‘Not work my shift? I must.’ He snatched a slice of bacon and chewed it while he shoved his stocking feet into his boots.
The Edwina seemed to be moving at her normal speed. There was nothing to indicate anything was wrong. Apparently, luck was on his side—for now.
‘You do not. The Captain sent someone in your place.’ She shook her head, but even her frown made him feel alight inside.
‘Now, sit down and eat.’ She pointed to the bed.
He did and patted the empty space beside him.
Nothing seemed wrong. He did not even know that something would go wrong. Carrying a flask was not necessarily a criminal act.
Forgoing a few lovely moments with his wife might be.
She set the plate on his lap, then settled on the mattress beside him. This cabin was not intended to house more than one person, but he did not mind sharing the space.
The food had grown cold while he slept, but it did not matter. Sitting so close to her made him feel warm enough to make up for it. This kind of heat was far more delicious than sizzling bacon was.
‘If you dip the bacon in the syrup it will taste heavenly,’ she said.
‘What about the strawberry—should I dip it, too?’
‘No! Don’t!’ She caught his hand. Her laughter was the nicest thing he had heard since he’d last been with his daughters. ‘You’ll ruin the strawberries and the syrup.’
‘Ah, well. I’ll accept your judgement since you risked sneaking to the upper decks to get them.’
‘It wasn’t all that much of a challenge since I did not have to pick the gate lock.’
‘Would you have known how to?’
‘No. But I’d have found a way around it easily enough.’
‘How? A lock is a serious obstacle.’
She blinked at him, her wide blue eyes so innocent looking. Her comely smile made him want to do anything she asked of him and more—far more.
‘I’d find someone to do it for me. I’ve been known to charm my way past an obstacle.’
‘Truly?’ Of her ability to do so, he had no doubt.
‘Yes, I’ve been trained in the art of friendliness.’
‘There is a great deal I do not know about my wife.’
‘And even more that I do not know about you.’
He had given her a chance to call him husband, set the bait for her answer, but she hadn’t taken it.
And why should she? In her mind he was only her husband for three months. He didn’t have much time to get her to change her mind.
And if he did not manage to change her mind? It did not bear thinking. He wanted her. What he really needed to do was change her heart, not her mind.
‘What would you like to know?’ he asked.
‘Everything. What is your full name? Where do you live? Do you come from a large family or a small one? What is your greatest virtue and your greatest flaw—although, I think I already know them.’
‘Do you?’ He swiped bacon in syrup. ‘And you are right about this. Can’t recall when I’ve tasted anything better.’
‘Clotted cream with the berries would have been heaven, but I didn’t see any.’
On his mental list of things he was going to change aboard ship he would add that: clotted cream.
He lifted a berry to her lips and watched in fascination when she bit into it, then nearly groaned when a drop of juice trickled down her chin. He caught it with his thumb, but his mind pictured kissing it away.
‘Rees Joseph Dalton,’ he said, but his mind added the Eleventh Viscount Glenbrook in quite an accusing way. ‘My biggest fault, then. Tell me, what is it?’
She tipped her head to one side, then the other, studying him with that sugar-and-spice smile. He could only wonder if her lips were naturally that shade of pink or was it the stain of the berries?
‘If you truly want to know, you tend to be bossy. You assume everyone will do your bidding.’
‘My mother would say you are a good judge of character.’
‘A woman in my position must be.’ Her face was ever changing, he decided while looking at her attempt to frown by slanting her brows. This was not the first time he’d found the gesture enchanting. ‘Many people, both gentlemen and ladies, seek my friendship because of my grandfather’s money. I’ve been deciphering who is genuine and who is not since I was seven years old.’
‘I did not seek you out because of your wealth, Madeline.’
‘And a lucky thing, too. I forfeited all that when I chose Bertrand over my family. You know better than anyone I am as poor as a church mouse.’
‘We will find your grandfather. I’ve no doubt he will be waiting for you with open arms.’
‘I don’t know. He did not deserve what I did to him. I was selfish and unloving.’
‘I imagine you could charm him into forgiving you.’
She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t work on Grandfather. Believe me, I’ve been trying since I was a babe.’
‘I suspect he was helplessly smitten, it’s just that he didn’t let on. But he will forgive you because he loves you.’
‘You are a kind man, Rees Dalton.’ To his great surprise she leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. The scent of strawberries on her lips was nearly his undoing. He was not likely to win her affection by pouncing upon her. Oh, but he wanted to. ‘And honourable. Those are your greatest qualities, I think.’
Honourable? He was a wretch. He felt the shame deep in his bones.
Ah, but it was a very good thing he had not pounced. When she discovered all he kept from her, she was bound to resent him—and that was if he was lucky. Chances were she would do more than resent him. She would flee with all haste.
‘Have you been married before?’ she asked. ‘I have not.’
‘Yes. M
y first wife died in childbirth nearly three years ago.’
‘I am very sorry, Rees. It must have been a terrible blow.’
He nodded, seeing Margaret’s face come to him through the fog of time. But those bleak days seemed far distant from his life now, so when he saw her, she was smiling.
‘But I do have my children, twin girls.’
He would have liked to ease the twins into the conversation gently rather than blurting out the news as he just had. But it would naturally be her next question.
‘What a great blessing they must be.’
‘Beguiling little lassies, for certain. They enchant me every day.’
‘It has to be difficult to be away from them for such long periods of time.’ She tapped her fingers on her lips while studying his face. ‘Who cares for them?’
‘My mother.’ This was true. Others on the staff saw to them as well, but for the most part it was his mother who did the coddling.
‘You are lucky to have her, my friend.’
Friend, not husband. He should not feel so disappointed by her words, their marriage being as new as it was, yet he did.
‘I count her among my blessings every day.’
‘My memories from when I was sick are vague.’ She propped her elbows on her knees, made a cradle of her hands and rested her chin on them. ‘But I do remember that there was a reason you wanted this marriage, rather than it being the decent thing to do.’
Here was where matters became tricky. He would have to tell her about the situation with his brother and yet choose his words with care.
Each hour he spent with her made him—desperate, yes, quite that, for her to stay. Three months was not going to be nearly enough time with Madeline.
How could he have ever thought it would be?
He had not—he had never wanted a time limit. While in the beginning he had been guided by notions of the way marriage ought to be, vows made were vows kept and all that...theory.
Now that he had kissed her at sunset, had woken from his bed on the floor in the night and watched her sleep, now that she had tended his wound with those gentle fingers, things had changed.
Ever since she breached the upper deck and confronted the Captain in order to give him a few more hours of sleep, affection had sent theory on its merry way.
For some reason, the fact that she had brought him strawberries and bacon, and taught him the pleasure of dipping that bacon in syrup, touched him deeply.
As small a thing as that was, it was big—huge, really. It gave him hope that a bond was building between them. Perhaps an intimacy he very much wanted to explore—over the course of many years.
Which, in the moment, left him treading a perilous path between truth and deception.
He owed her the truth, but feared he had left it for too long. She would leave him. The light so recently burst to life in his soul would go out. He had lived in darkness for too long.
Here they were together. The time was right and yet the words dried in his mouth.
Chapter Five
In spite of the effort Madeline had gone to in order for Rees to have the day away from his job, he had gone to the furnace room.
She could add this to her list of things she knew about him—he was devoted to his work. What other man was that devoted to a difficult career?
Over the course of the afternoon, she had done a fair amount of thinking.
What else was there to do during the hours that he was away?
Now, several hours later, she watched him wash at the basin, thinking again about the conclusions she had come to. Or half-thought about them.
Logic took a bit of a holiday while she watched the bare muscles of his back stretch and flex. Perhaps she should not indulge in the pleasure, but he was her husband even if it was for such a brief time.
The reason he was her husband, the one he had told her was to his benefit, had become more clear. He needed a mother for his children. At least she thought that was the reason.
Even though it was the most logical motive for a widower to want a wife, it seemed odd. If he had thought she would become a mother to his children, he had done so knowing it would be temporary.
A circumstance which put her in a difficult situation. A mother who went on her merry way after only three months was no mother at all. The children would end up heartbroken. But perhaps their bond with Rees’s mother was strong and she filled the role as both mother and grandmother.
If there was a reason other than for his children that he had married her, she had not been able to figure out what it was.
‘Shall we go for a walk on deck?’ he asked.
All afternoon she had been listening to the wind rattle the door. It was bound to be cold out but—‘Yes, that would be lovely.’
Outside the sun cast long, late afternoon shadows on the deck. For all that sunshine glittered on the water and gave the illusion of warmth, it was a bone chill out there.
With only the one coat between them, he placed it across her shoulders, smiling in that way he had of making her want to stare at his mouth.
How could she not when their gazes connected, held, for longer than mere friendliness accounted for? That intimate look passed between them more and more frequently.
His fingers lingered long on the task of tugging the coat about her throat. Funny that her reaction was that it was not long enough. Funnier that she felt the tug on her heart more than her collar.
Mentally, she gave herself a good shake. There was a reason he had offered her only a short marriage. He was not looking for a real union any more than she was.
And yet—there was no ‘and yet’. His tender touch meant nothing. Nor did the way his gaze lingered on her in the most intimate of expressions.
He was a decent man doing a decent thing. Having compromised her in the act of saving her life, he did what was proper. She must be careful not to read any more into it than that.
Sadly, she was known for following her heart more than common sense.
If, for some reason, this stroll was leading to a kiss—and she really had no reason to think so other than what she read in his smile—well, it might lead there but she was going to summon the wisdom to refuse—again.
Her heart had led her astray with an unworthy man once before. Even though Rees was worthy, she would not let her heart pick unwisely again.
Unless, her small but insistent inner voice suggested, she already had. She turned a blind ear—or answering thought—to it.
Yes, she might look like fluff, but inside she was steel—or at worst tin. What she would not do was give in to a kiss and forsake the inner strength she had learned over the past few months of getting by on her own.
Admittedly, he had not offered a kiss. It had been her own imagination wandering. But still, she would not.
Wind whipped along the deck, pelting them in the back and quickening their steps. It was even colder out than she had expected it to be.
Rees’s arm came about her, drawing her close and warming her. She hadn’t said a thing about feeling shivery, yet he’d known.
The intimate connection felt so tenuously between them only a short time ago was growing stronger. She knew it without him saying so, without her confirming it. It was just there, the awareness of it pulsing between them.
A part of her welcomed it, but another part greatly feared it. And wisely so. She did not dare to make another mistake she would end up running from.
‘Let’s go inside,’ he murmured.
‘That is an excellent idea. Did you know that when the sun shines in Los Angeles it is almost always warm?’ Not so here in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, where wind blew off the water and dampened one’s clothing, making it smell like salt and fish.
She suppressed a shiver.
‘Come.’ He swept her up in his arms as if sh
e weighed nothing at all, then carried her towards a staircase.
His strides were long and determined, his arms, cupping her thighs, firm. The whole of it made her heart flutter. The fluff in her character was delighted.
‘Where are we going?’
‘You said the gate to first class was not locked.’
‘It isn’t, but we won’t get away with it this time.’
He opened the gate, carried her up the steps. The only sign of exertion he showed was that his breathing came faster. She felt his chest expand against her side.
‘I look too low-born?’
‘Too virile.’
‘The gentlemen up here do not?’
‘They look important—to their own minds, anyway.’
‘But you think they are not?’ His mouth quirked with the question and of course it made her heart beat oddly.
For a man who ought to be gasping for breath, but was only half-winded, he had a lot of questions.
‘You and your fellows are the ones who keep this ship moving. I imagine that, somewhere, the owner is busy at a game of whist, drinking a glass of sherry without a thought of how his investment is faring.’
‘You think that?’ Lines in his forehead arched, formed a peak which made him look amused, of all things.
‘I’ve met many wealthy investors.’ Fended them off more times than she could recall. ‘Most haven’t a care about what their funds are doing, not as long as they continue to increase.’
Delicious aromas wafted out of the open dining-saloon door. From several feet away she noticed a welcoming orange glow. It suffused the room with the promise of a toasty warm fire in the hearth.
‘Do you think they will notice I’m from the lower deck?’ He winked.
‘Beyond a doubt.’ He wore the clothes of a man who worked below and the scent of coal lingered on him.
‘I wonder if they will care.’
‘Set me down, Rees.’
He did, but slowly as if he did not want to stop touching her. When her toes met the floor, she was even slower stepping out of his arms.
What was happening to her? Certainly not the same thing as had happened with Bertrand. Oh, no, this was far different. Her heart fluttered for Rees in a far different way than it ever had for the fortune hunter.