“I believe they object to some of the more improper aspects of it.” A twinkle lit his eyes.
She considered his words. “I suspect their husbands are doing it wrong.”
“Oh, you’ve become an expert after one night?” His grin robbed the words of any ill intent.
“You seemed to think I did well enough!” He bowed, acknowledging the hit. She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Even the most carefully chaperoned girls hear conversations they should not. I’ve overheard more than one of my mother’s friends whisper about their husbands causing discomfort.”
“That should never happen again.” His emphatic words startled her. As though to lighten the conversation, he changed the subject.
“I came down to ascertain your well-being first, and then to ask if I might escort you around the deck.”
Relief flooded through her that he still wanted to spend time in her company. “That sounds much more pleasant than reading. Wait here, I shall get my hat and mantelet.”
She hastened to put on her outdoor clothes and return. Kieran crooked his arm for her. “I’m delighted to take priority over the saloon.”
She chuckled. “Only because I have no access to a library, mind you.”
“We shall visit a bookstore when we stop in London. What kind of reading do you enjoy?” With that, they set off down the corridor.
By mutual consent, Kieran did not come to her bed that night, but their concord lasted only until the following afternoon.
Diantha stormed into her cabin, all but slamming the door behind her.
Florette, seated near the porthole to mend a flounce, looked up in surprise, then rose to help Diantha out of her mantelet.
“Milady, what has happened to disturb you? The walk with Mrs. Haddon did not go well?”
Diantha furiously ripped her hat from her head, partially ruining the fashionable curls the maid had pinned up earlier that day. “The promenade went well enough. Until I found my husband.”
“Oh?” Florette retrieved the elegant creation from its landing place on the floor.
Diantha freed herself from her wrap. “Mrs. Haddonand I came across him as he admired a pendant of Senhora Henriques.”
“That does not sound particularly terrible.” The maid smoothed the hat’s ribbons prior to putting it away.
“He was tracing the filigree work with his finger.” She paced the room, skirts rustling. “While she was wearing it!”
“Ah!” The older woman’s face cleared as enlightenment dawned. “Tsk, on a small boat like this, milord should have known he would get caught.”
Diantha took another turn around the room, fuming. “Smiling up at him and batting her eyelashes like something out of a penny dreadful—”
Florette made a sympathetic noise. “I am so sorry, milady. How humiliating for you.”
“—at my husband, which he would do well to remember.” The lacy nightgown of two nights before caught her attention as it lay on top of a pile of neatly folded clothes. “You can put that thing away. If he thinks he’s coming back to my bed anytime soon, he had better think again.”
“Milady, please calm yourself. This back-and-forth is making my head spin and you have ceased to make sense.” At the servant’s blunt words, she stopped.
Florette coughed slightly. “Men behave like that. And your husband is known for enjoying the company of women.”
“I’m a woman.” She looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Why can’t he enjoy my company?”
The Frenchwoman tutted. “You must make him enjoy your presence. Don’t make scenes over hislittle indiscretions. Charm him, captivate him. Make him feel welcome. As a wife, that is your best hope.”
A bitter laugh escaped her at the maid’s earnest words. “Yes, I know. Hide my real feelings, tolerate his indiscretions. That is a wife’s path in life.”
“Oui, milady.” The maid rolled up her sewing and prepared to leave. “I am sorry.”
“I want another path.” Diantha whispered the words, then stopped the other woman. “Florette, could you find something in my wardrobe in which I might look remotely attractive at dinner this evening?”
