They stood together in conversation with Mrs. Waldo until the sight of two hulking figures moved into view, lurking by the railing just over Louisa’s shoulder. Herbert’s thugs eavesdropped, doubtless intending to report Giles’ every word and move back to their employer.
He ought to confront them, but dared not risk dragging Louisa into the mire—to say nothing of Gladys Waldo and Emily, who were innocent bystanders. He couldn’t bring shame to his wife when a new and affectionate understanding budded between them.
The taller of the hired toughs caught his eye, making a bold, sweeping survey of Louisa’s trim figure, her well-tailored walking suit and radiant smile. He winked at Giles, whose hand curled into a tight fist.
Louisa felt the shift in him, the coiled tension as his knuckles ground into her spine. She looked up at him, brows pinched. “My lord, didn’t you hear what I said?”
He frowned. “No, I wasn’t listening.”
She laughed, stunned at his rudeness. “And the English claim to have manners!”
Mrs. Waldo laughed, as well, though Giles didn’t share the joke. He returned the child to her mother, and then offered his arm to his wife. “Shall we take tea, Louisa, dear?”
“Tea?” she asked.
“Of course. Where do you think I go every afternoon?” To Mrs. Waldo, he offered, “Won’t you join us, ma’am?”
She wisely declined. The group parted ways, with Giles all but dragging his wife toward the ship’s door, knowing the assembly room lay within reach. He was angry and terrified that these henchmen would dare to publicly intimidate him. Their presence onboard was a hell-hound nipping at his heels. His debt was a fist squeezing his throat until he panicked.
Giles feared he would never break free of his past.
CHAPTER THIRTY
His Lordship held the door for her, allowing her to pass before him. They crossed into the reception area and made their way to the assembly room. Lord Granborough kept a vigilant watch on their surroundings, though she had no idea what alarmed him. Maybe he was cold, for his hands trembled as he steered her through the space.
The assembly room, paneled in dark wood and upholstered in plush green fabric, overlooked the empty dining saloon below. It had been the scene of Louisa’s retaliation against her husband’s misbehavior, though they’d put the piano scene behind them now.
He removed his greatcoat and hat and hung them on a peg by the doorway. He took her heavy coat, as well, and placed it beside his own. Louisa hugged close as he found an empty table for two midway through the room.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked, pulling out her chair. “Should we move closer to the fireplace?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” His Lordship was always seeing to her comfort, whether by meals or accommodations, or even in the bedroom.
Louisa sat, and he slid into the seat across from her. Their knees bumped beneath the tête-à-tête table. Shifting, he flagged down a waiter and requested a pot of tea.
“If we had an electric kettle,” she teased, “we could take tea in our stateroom.”
Instead of rising to her barb, Lord Granborough huffed in annoyance. “Here is something you must learn about your new homeland—we take pride in doing things the way our fathers and our grandfathers have done.”
His forebears had slept with chamber pots beneath their beds and probably died of some preventable disease. Plumbing was not a crutch, and only a fool would deny himself the marvels of electricity for the ‘tradition’ of gaslight and tallow candles.
“You fear modernity.”
“Alright,” he conceded. “Yes.”
Although she sympathized with his need for sameness, because she sensed he’d never known security, clinging to bygone days of glory prevented him from reaching out and becoming the nobleman she knew he could be.
She leaned toward him, almost cornering him. “I’m afraid I am going to offend you, but the world is modernizing whether you like it or not. We need electricity and running water to make life easier—for all people. We need telephones and bicycles to keep life interesting. There is nothing wrong with being connected, whether by wires or pipes, communication lines or transportation routes, or…”love.
The simple act of joining together.
“I am not wholly resistant to the idea.”
She blinked, for she’d distracted herself with thoughts of loving him. “The idea of what?”
“Do keep up, Louisa dear.” He laughed. “I’m not opposed to the idea of bringing Granborough into the modern age. You’ve won me over with your passionate plea for flush toilets and hot running water. We shall be the envy of everyone with our electric light in the countryside.”
“Of course, I would need to pay for it…” The prospect of bankrolling this endeavor chafed, especially if he expected them to live separately. His Lordship was coming around to her way of thinking, but there was still so much work to be done.
