“I’m sure it will do very well, thank you.” Diantha sighed at the yards of coral pink taffeta.
It looked better than her traveling dress, she decided as she surveyed her final appearance in the full-length mirror bolted on the dressing room wall. Full evening dress would not suit the confines of a ship, so Florette had selected a dinner dress instead.
Although long-sleeved, it possessed the plunging neckline considered de rigueur for evenings, outlined in bisque-colored lace. A deep flounce of more lace trimmed the pointed bottom of the bodice where it flared over her hips, and formed three wide chevrons down the smooth front of the skirt.
Twisting to see the back, she noticed still more of the pale lace in the softly puffed bustle. “I’m still not sure about the color, but it’s so stylish! Thank you, Florette. You chose very well.”
“It’s difficult to make a poor choice from a wardrobe by Monsieur Worth. Although perhaps milady should avoid warm tones in the future.” The maid offered her opinion cautiously, as though expecting a reprimand.
“I suppose.” Diantha picked up a silk shawl that matched the trim of her gown. “I’ve always likedblues myself. Or even red.” She sighed wistfully as she left her cabin. Decent women, according to Mama, did not wear any shade of red.
Feeling very self-conscious walking alone, she made her way down the hall to the first-class saloon, which doubled as the dining room. To her irritation, Kieran appeared to be flirting with a stunning brunette in amethyst satin. A number of covert glances from the other passengers indicated that they recognized her, and awaited her reaction.
Refusing to provide fodder for gossip, she focused on the captain, who presented himself almost immediately. “I see Lord Rossburn has met some guests already. Would you be so kind as to introduce me as well?”
She must sound like the stupidest creature in nature, she thought, as the captain presented several people to her. If Kieran had waited for an introduction to that woman, she would eat her fan. Illicit relationships abounded at her family’s level of society, and she knew the look of mutual interest when she saw it.
The captain confirmed her suspicions by resolutely steering her away from the dark-haired woman. However, the education in drawing-room warfare she had gained from her mother’s social climbing stood her well.
“Please forgive me, but I believe I see my husband.” Diantha smiled at the passengers clustered around her. “Newlyweds, you know.”
She strolled over to where he stood. Even in her chagrin his sculpted profile robbed her of breath,but she had something to take care of. “Good evening, my dear.”
He frowned at her mocking words, but returned her greeting civilly. She placed a possessive hand on his arm and assessed the dark beauty. Up close, the woman’s looks did not strike one as out of the ordinary. She appeared to be in her early thirties, although she dressed to the best advantage. The stranger’s eyes sparkled with vivacity as she returned Diantha’s scrutiny.
Buoyed by a Worth gown, even in the wrong color, she begged her husband to introduce her.
“Indeed, my dear, I should like to do that very thing.” He turned to the woman. “May I present—?” He arched his brows with a quizzical expression, and Diantha realized with indignation that he had not even ascertained the creature’s name.
“Senhora Henriques, of Brazil, and her husband.” Turning, they saw the captain, accompanied by a dapper middle-aged man.
Kieran remained undisturbed by the interruption. “Madam, Senhora Henriques.” He inclined his head to Diantha. “Senhora, this is Lady Rossburn.”
“I am honored, your ladyship.” White teeth flashed in amusement as she curtsied.
“Delighted.” Diantha cocked her head. “I do hope you forgive my assumption that you knew my husband. He gave the impression of speaking with an old friend.” Anger flashed in the dark eyes as she emphasized the second-to-last word. A few titters sounded nearby. “Of course, I should have remembered thatmy husband has no permanent acquaintances in the United States.”
At that point, the dinner bell sounded. Visibly relieved, the captain escorted the Rossburns to his table. Her warning delivered, she spent the meal discussing the ship’s itinerary.
Chapter 4
Kieran made no attempt to avoid Senhora Henriques over the next few days, although to his credit, he did not overtly seek her out. Nevertheless, Diantha’s teeth gritted whenever she saw the lovely Brazilian.
Without access to a library, she read every periodical in the saloon at least twice. Mama had included her stitchery in her luggage but she quickly had her fill of needlepoint. Talking with the other passengers provided limited amusement, for they either fawned on her or were intimidated.
She envied her husband his freedom to move about the ship. Convention required her to remain in her cabin unless going to a meal. The rest of the time, her maid or her husband must accompany her. Kieran thoughtfully escorted her about the deck each day, and at least demonstrated the consideration to give her his full attention. Although not comfortable enough with him to speak without constraint, their conversations passed amiably.
They took breakfast in their private dining roomeach morning, and usually luncheon or dinner. But whether they dined privately or not, he invariably joined the other gentlemen in the saloon for afterdinner brandies.
When she heard his cabin door close behind him each night, she could not repress a twinge of jealousy. She comforted herself with the knowledge that Senhora Henriques was not permitted to enter the saloon during the after-dinner hours either.
* * *
She recorded her impressions of the voyage in a thin composition book she had smuggled into one of her trunks. The first time Kieran had walked in while she wrote at their small dining table, she had tried unsuccessfully to hide it. To her amazement, he neither confiscated it nor insisted she stop. Just to be safe, she secreted it in the lining of her trunk during the day.
He did not approach her bedroom at all, although she became used to the touch of his hand on her arm and at the small of her back as they strolled along the railing. All in all, she thought their marriage off to as good a start as she could expect. Until the day they docked in Halifax.
While the ship took on supplies and mail, she and Florette took a turn around the deck in the chill Canadian air. Returning to her bedroom, Diantha idly thumbed through a packet of congratulatory telegrams delivered with their mail while Florette unpacked a dress for her to wear to dinner that night.
