He stopped and faced the younger man, waiting for congratulations. Judging from the revolted look on her husband’s face, Diantha gathered that felicitations were not forthcoming. She stepped forward.
“That was exceedingly clever of you, Papa.” Placing a hand on her father’s arm, she coaxed him into moving toward the foot of the gangway, where the ship’s captain and higher ranking crew members waited to be introduced.
After meeting the captain and his first and second mates, her family escorted them to their quarters.Diantha, remembering the original cramped cabins, walked through the suite of two bedrooms, dressing room, and dining room with relief. Even Kieran could not repress exclamations of admiration at the arrangements.
Even the decoration, in her mother’s favored neo-Gothic style, did not lower her spirits. The only difficult moment came when a young steward, after a timid knock on the door, invited Lord and Lady Rossburn to dine with the captain that evening. Her father waved the young man aside. “I didn’t have that dining room put in for my daughter to eat with my employees. Bring their dinner here as planned.”
“Please inform the captain that my wife and I would be honored to join him this evening.” Kieran did not raise his voice, but the words cut across her father’s easily.
“How dare you countermand my orders on my own ship!” She flinched as her father bellowed and the steward fled.
Kieran remained absorbed in examining a writing table cleverly built into the wall. “Kindly restrain yourself from answering questions addressed to me.” He turned a glacial stare on the older man. Only the glitter of his eyes betrayed his anger.
“By God, you spoiled whelp, I’ll take back every penny I promised.” Her father’s face turned nearly purple with fury. Even her mother watched him nervously, while her brothers seated themselves on the berth to watch the battle.
“Not unless you want a lawsuit. The contract we signed went into effect yesterday.” Her husbandshrugged as though bored. “By all means, break it. It’s your reputation.”
Several squeaks and gasps emerged from her parent’s throat before he recovered his full volume and gestured to the doorway. “We are leaving! All of you, now!”
Diantha jumped. Her mother and brothers scrambled to follow his pointing finger, and she automatically started to follow. A large hand on her wrist stopped her.
“You’re supposed to stay with me.” Kieran let go of her and calmly shut the door behind her family.
“Of course. How stupid of me.” She laced her fingers together, but to her relief, his anger appeared to have evaporated.
“Old habits?” He gave her a wry grin. “He was rather alarming, wasn’t he?”
She regarded him with some awe. “He scared you, too?”
“Not exactly.” His lips thinned. “I meant it when I said I’d drag him into court.” His hand slid up her arm in a caress. “But he does use that roar of his to get his way, doesn’t he.”
“Among other methods.” She shivered.
His hand dropped from her arm, leaving her oddly bereft. “I think I’ll go explore the ship for a bit.”
Diantha bit her lip, wondering what she was supposed to do in her cabin by herself. “May I come with you?”
A smile lit up his handsome face. “I would appreciate the company.”
“Really?” In answer he held the door open and bowed her into the mahogany-paneled passageway.
* **
They walked the decks and passages until late afternoon. Diantha told him what she had gleaned about theColumbiafrom listening to her father and brothers talk. Kieran freely confessed that he knew next to nothing about shipbuilding, and listened attentively to her.
When the ship slipped out of its berth, they took their place at the rail to witness its passage down the Hudson. She hoped a few photographers had stayed at the dock. Pictures of the two of them mixing with the rest of the passengers would infuriate her parents.
Although she enjoyed the anonymity of the crowd, she appreciated her tall husband’s bulk as he protected her from the inevitable shoving and pushing. They stayed at the rail as the buildings and bustle of Manhattan dwindled behind them, while the sun lowered in the west.
By the time they returned to the suite, a quarrel had erupted between the lady’s maid hired by Mrs. Quinn and his lordship’s valet as to who should use the single dressing room first.
“Ladies first, of course, Davison.” His lordship tossed a loose strand of hair off his forehead impatiently.
“I think it would be best if his lordship dressed first.” The dark windblown locks waving about her husband’s face riveted Diantha’s attention. They looked so soft and thick. Her fingers twitched involuntarily. “Ladies tend to require more time, and we are expected to be late.”
And so she washed her face and Florette brushedout her hair to the accompaniment of her groom’s baritone rumbling through the closed door to the dressing room. After a quick knock, he announced that he would await her in the saloon.
As she brought out the gown she had pressed earlier in the day, the Frenchwoman apologized. “I tried to find a suitable gown for this evening, milady, but this is the best I could come up with.”
