Will clamped his eyes shut. Wheatley had already proposed,andshe’d rejected him? Hopefully that boded well for his own case.
He was a strong, deliberate sailor, he reminded himself. He did not shy away when obstacles mounted. He’d chosen to come back to sea after his father’s death so he could rise in the ranks and obtain a good position. Now, though it would be tricky and he’d have to dance delicately around the rules of conduct with women, he would accept the challenge of courting Ann Fowles.
He focused on his words. “So, in the advent that we are in each other’s company as the journey continues, would you mind if I got to know you better, limited though some of it may be?”
A polite smile—one that was too hard to read—colored her expression. “I could allow that.”
He waited for more, but when she brushed a speck off the table, he knew there was nothing to be done but be blunt. “Do you—even a little—feel the same toward me?”
She studied the liniment bottle for what felt like an agonizing amount of time.
“Yes,” she whispered, a shy smile teasing her mouth.
“Yes?”
She nodded again. “Did your injury affect your hearing?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“You don’t want to know how much time you’ve occupied my thoughts.”
“Maybe I do.”
She shook her head, and she was so near he could smell her clean, chamomile scent. How that was even possible after spending so much time at sea, he wasn’t sure, but just like in many other categories, this young woman exceeded expectations.
She hadn’t responded, and the silence of the small vestibule grew more charged. Her soft cheek was so inviting, her gaze so full of promise.
“Going back to my grandmother and kiss in the ring then,” he whispered, “might I—” He directed his gaze to her cheek. “Since no one will see us here, and a first mate can’t play in the passenger games, of course.”
He held his breath, but then she nodded. His arm grazed hers. With tender simplicity his lips met her cheek, and the pure sensation of it warmed his entire being.
He’d greeted others with a quick kiss to their cheek before, but this was entirely different. Will wasn’t sure how something so simple could feel so significant and right. And then it came to him.
He could sum up his explanation in a single word: Ann.
Chapter 23
March 19, 1854
26 days at sea
As soon as his lipsmet her cheek, Ann knew, more than ever before, that William Boyd did funny things to her heart and head. It was a good thing she was sitting down at the table in the corridor, for though not prone to swooning, she didn’t trust herself at this moment.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way—”
“Out of the way?” she breathed.
“Well, yes, it went rather well, don’t you think? I’d say your cheek and my lips enjoyed their time together.”
Ann shook her head. “You are insufferable.”
“You’ve said that before.” He laughed.
“And it keeps proving to be true.”
He tilted his head. His gaze moved to the outward door, and when he returned his attention to her, a new seriousness had replaced his teasing smile.
“There ... is one more thing I wished to ask you.” His tone was so entirely changed, it concerned her.
