He tried to smile. “It was fine. And everything is in order. We’ll be departing soon.” He had been determined to keep her at arm’s length, using the formal address as a boundary. But now, looking at her, he just felt foolish.
“I’ve arranged for your trunks to be sent straight to your cabin,” Max continued, gesturing toward the base of thegangplank where a harried quartermaster was ticking off names on a ledger. “Your cabin and Mrs. Carlisle’s adjoining room await you below deck. Starboard side, aft.”
“Thank you. I appreciate all your preparations. I’m so happy to finally be underway.” She turned and began to ascend the gangplank.
Max fell in step just behind her, Mrs. Carlisle trailing in his wake, and his gaze was drawn to her squared shoulders and elegant bearing. He could feel the excitement vibrating around her like a halo, but she gave no outward indication of it. He knew what lay beneath those dull gray skirts—the impossibly long legs and magnificent derriere. This was going to be one hell of a long trip.
As they reached the top of the ramp, the ship’s first officer called out, “Careful, ma’am, the deck’s slick.”
Eden paused just long enough to let Max and Mrs. Carlisle catch up before stepping onto theConstellation’sgrooved wooden deck, the railings polished to a blinding gleam.
Inside the vestibule, the scent changed: brass polish, wet wool, and the sour tang of anxious passengers. A porter materialized to relieve Mrs. Carlisle of her valise, bowing low as he did so.
Eden ignored the gesture, instead glancing aft where a cluster of gentlemen—scholars, by their tweedy disarray—were already arguing the route of Hannibal’s elephants across the Alps. Max knew with sudden certainty that she wished she could march over there and join them. But they wouldn’t welcome her. He knew that, too.
Max turned to her, lowering his voice. “Departure in less than an hour, weather permitting. There’s a lounge in the forward salon if you’d care to be up top for it.”
She considered, then said, “Let’s see the accommodations first.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
She paused at that, her mouth twisting. “It’s only Eden, you know.”
He looked at her, weighing the safety of familiarity against the dangers of it. “Noted.”
They descended the narrow staircase, Max bracing himself instinctively as the ship listed slightly in its berth. On the lower deck, their cabin awaited—modest by the standards of the daughter of an earl, perhaps, but downright palatial compared to some of the bunks he’d slept in. Two adjoining rooms, the connecting door already cracked open, a carafe of water and glasses waiting on the table. The porthole offered a view of Dover, its spires and rooftops melting into the mist, and the ghostly white cliffs above.
Mrs. Carlisle immediately disappeared into her own room while Eden inspected the cabin. She ran a gloved hand along the polished wood of the desk, nodding once at its adequacy. She made no comment about the lace curtains or the monogrammed towels—either because they met her standards or, more likely, because she’d never been one to care much for such matters.
Max hovered in the corridor, hands clasped behind his back, unsure if he was meant to linger. “If you require anything else—”
“I’ll let you know,” Eden said, still facing the window. “Please don’t treat me like a pampered princess, Max. I don’t know if I can bear it. I’m still the same woman you knew all those years ago.”
He nodded, oddly chastened. “Of course.” But he didn’t leave. Something in the set of her shoulders, the way her breath briefly fogged the glass, kept him rooted. He sensed that despite her outward strength, she was badly in need of some comfort.
He cleared his throat. “It’s a good, solid ship. Old, but she’ll get us there. I’ve made the crossing half a dozen times and only once lost my lunch.”
Eden turned to face him, a glint of genuine amusement in her eyes. “I imagine you’re not easily rattled after all your adventures.”
“Not by ships, no. Not by much, in fact.”
For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to say something more, but then Mrs. Carlisle called out from the other room: “Tea’s ready, my lady.”
Eden inclined her head to Max in silent thanks, then stepped through the connecting door. He waited until he heard the low murmur of their voices, the rattle of teacups, before shutting the door and turning back up the stairs.
By the time he reached the main deck, the harbor had shifted into twilight. The last of the passengers had boarded, the dockworkers now unloading crates of potatoes and sides of beef, the shouts and laughter beginning to thin. Max found himself at the rail, looking out at the wavering gaslights of the town, listening to the subtle changes in the ship’s timbre as its boilers ramped up and the paddlewheels started their slow churn.
A final bell clanged, and the gangplank groaned as it was drawn in from the dock. The sensation of movement was barely perceptible at first—a slight lurch, a shiver in the soles of his feet. Then the ship’s siren howled, low and mournful, a sound that always made Max think of animals in pain.
He watched the gap between ship and shore widen, the silhouettes on the dock raising hands in farewell or clutching at hats against the wind. Somewhere behind him, a steward’s voice announced the seating for first supper, but Max didn’t turn. He waited until theConstellationhad fully disengaged from the world it was leaving behind, and only then allowed himself a long, measured exhale.
The air tasted different already—cleaner, expectant. He flexed his fingers, banishing the numbness, and made his way back below.
They were underway. No turning back now.
After Max left her in her cabin, Eden had tea with Mrs. Carlisle. Though they’d shared the carriage ride down from Willoughby Hall, they had only spoken a few words to each other. Mrs. Carlisle had seemed as upset about the prospect of accompanying Eden to Egypt as Eden was about having to take her.
However, they were stuck with each other now, so she hoped they could learn to get along. Mrs. Carlisle grieved the loss of her husband, who had been gone for only a few months, deeply. Unfortunately, the man had left her destitute, and she obviously hadn’t wanted to be a burden to her sister.
