“What is that?”
“According to theNorthern Star’s schedule, we are not due to arrive in New York for another ten days. In addition to the passengers who are already on board, we will no doubt be picking up a few more.”
“Yes. What of it?”
He levered himself partway up on one elbow. Pain tightened the corners of his eyes. “Do not tell anyone else about that letter—not any of the other passengers or any members of the crew. It is vitally important that you not trust anyone who is on board now or who may come aboard between here and New York. Is that clear?”
“Quite clear.” She gripped the doorknob. “I must say, you are certainly a man of mystery, Mr. Stanbridge.”
He sank wearily back down onto the pillows. “Not at all, Miss Doncaster. I’m an engineer.”
Two
The storm at sea was far away but the lightning illuminated the clouds in a fiery radiance. The atmosphere was charged and intoxicating. On a night like this a woman could be forgiven if she believed she could fly, Amity thought.
She stood on the promenade deck, her hands braced on the teak railing, and watched the spectacle with wonder and excitement. Not all of the intense, exhilarating emotions were generated by the storm. It was the man standing beside her who was responsible for most of the thrilling sensations, she thought. Somehow they went together, the night and the man.
“You can feel the energy from here,” she said, laughing a little with the sheer pleasure of it all.
“Yes, you can,” Benedict said.
But he was not watching the storm. He was looking at her.
He rested his hands on the railing, his fingers very close to hers. His wound had closed with no sign of infection, but he still moved with care. She knew he would be stiff and sore for a while. A few days ago, having concluded that he was going to live, he had requested that she return his letter.
She told herself that she was happy to be relieved of the responsibility. But something about the small act of giving him the letter had left her feeling wistful, even a trifle bereft. The task of concealing the letter—knowing that Benedict entrusted her with it—had created a sense of a bond between them, at least on her side.
Now that frail connection had been severed. He no longer needed her. He was swiftly regaining his strength. Tomorrow theNorthern Starwould dock in New York. Her intuition told her that everything would change in the morning.
“I won’t be traveling back to London with you,” Benedict said. “As soon as we dock tomorrow I must take the train to California.”
She had been prepared for this, she reminded herself. She had known that the interlude on board the ship would end.
“I see,” she said. She paused. “California is a long way from New York.” And even farther from London, she thought.
“Unfortunately, my business takes me there. If all goes well, I won’t be obliged to stay for long.”
“Where will you go after you leave California?” she asked.
“Home to London.”
She did not know what else to say, so she held her tongue.
“I would like very much to call upon you when I return, if I may,” Benedict said.
She could suddenly breathe again. “I would like that. I shall look forward to seeing you again.”
“Amity, I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
“Please don’t say that. I would have done as much for anyone in your situation.”
“I know. It is one of the amazing things about you.”
She knew she was blushing and was grateful for the cover of night. “I am certain that you would have done the same under similar circumstances.”
“You have been forced to take me on faith,” Benedict said, very serious now. “I know that can’t have been easy. Thank you for trusting me.”
She did not respond.
