***
April 13, 1912
In the morning, Cassian awoke with a headache. He’d slept a measly three hours that night, having spent the bulk of the night too frazzled to rest. He knew that he had to fix things with James somehow. Or, perhaps, he knew that he shouldn’t, but he wanted to. All that awaited him now was heartbreak, no matter how fervently he wished otherwise, and he wondered if he should at least spend his last days here on the ship being near the man he loved whenever he could.
It wasn’t as though Cassian could hope for more. His engagement to Ethel was equally as binding as marriage, from a socialperspective. If Cassian broke off the engagement, he’d hurt himself and Ethel, both. Mostly Ethel. Being a man and a Livingston to boot, Cassian knew that he’d eventually recover from such a scandal. Ethel, on the other hand, very likely would not. Because what man in his right mind would want her after she had been engaged for so many months? And after she had traveled so extensively with the man who then became her ex-fiancé as well? Cassian couldn’t condemn Ethel to such a bleak future. Regardless of what he felt for her (or, more precisely, what hedidn’tfeel), he still cared about her. Ethel Barrington wasn’t some random woman from Cassian’s social circle; she was a kind person with whom he had been cordial for what felt like forever.
Rolling onto his front, Cassian pressed his face into the pillow and let out a groan. If only he could hide from the world for the rest of this Godforsaken voyage. Lord help him, what was he supposed to do? Move forward with marrying Ethel and subsequently spend the rest of his life heartbroken and sexually frustrated? Or marry her, but then somehow spend the bulk of his time traveling to and from Europe, bedding James whenever he managed to secure a ticket on whatever ship the man happened to be working, thereby betraying Ethel more each and every time he left New York to sail across the Atlantic?
Both options seemed horrible. Utterly and completely horrible.
After spending some fifteen minutes or so wallowing, Cassian finally rolled out of bed. He had another four minutes before Mr. Quinn was scheduled to show up to help him get ready for breakfast.
With a weary groan, Cassian ran a hand over his face, catching stubble and wishing that he could leave it that way. He had no interest in making himself look presentable. Or respectable. Because he wasn’t a respectable person, was he? He was engaged to a beautiful woman, and yet he was in love with a man. Onewho wrote ridiculous, erotic stories about pirates. One who was sweet and funny and kind and handsome and had preposterously pinchable cheeks.
Damn it all!
Cassian let out a huff and fetched his robe. He resolved to remain in his stateroom for a while. Maybe Mr. Quinn could bring him breakfast here instead. Cassian needed the time to himself so that he might figure out how to move forward.
After Cassian secured his robe, he headed for the door but paused when he heard Ethel’s voice in the corridor. He’d rather her not see him like this. Frowning, Cassian started to head back over to his bed, but then he heard Mr. Quinn’s voice, lighter and more carefree than he’d ever heard the man sound before. Cassian’s chest pinched. Mr. Quinn’s voice echoed something inside him, though he couldn’t say what that something might be. Curious to work out what it was, Cassian walked over to the door and pressed his ear to the wood.
“Mr. Quinn, are you implying thatImight bestyouat a swimming race?” Ethel asked, her tone imbued with a kind of playfulness that seemed foreign to Cassian’s ears.
“Oh, yes, miss. I have no doubt,” Mr. Quinn replied. “Mr. Livingston paid for me to try the swimming bath, and there were three other men in there at the same time that I was. And I was by far the slowest of our group.”
“I thought that you were a sailor when you were a boy.”
“Only a cadet. I couldn’t handle life here at sea, I’m afraid. Thankfully, my distaste for it didn’t hold me back too much, though, overall. You see, since I’m relatively tall and my mother thought that I was handsome, I came to the conclusion that maybe I might be able to become a footman or something. And, well, here I am many years later in your fiancé’s employ as a valet.”
Quietly, Cassian opened the door, only enough to see Mr. Quinn and Ethel chatting in front of her room.
“Mr. Livingston clearly spoils me too much, though,” Mr. Quinn remarked. “All those creamy soups and pastries are starting to weigh me down, I think. I’m ashamed of how much slower I am now in the water. And probably on land, too, if we were to have a foot race.”
Laughing lightly, Ethel shook her head. Cassian mirrored her movement, shaking his head, too. Mr. Quinn had a fine physique. Not as fine as either James or himself, of course, but few people were as exquisite as either of them, in Cassian’s opinion.
“Don’t say such things about yourself, Mr. Quinn. You are very clearly...” She paused for a moment. “Ah, well, what I mean to say is that I know how hard of a worker you are. And you seem... well, you seem very fit to me.”
Both Mr. Quinn and Ethel blushed at the same time. Mr. Quinn reached up to rub the back of his neck. Cassian’s stomach fluttered. Mr. Quinn’s positioning and expression reminded him so much of how James sometimes looked when they were chatting.
“You as well, miss,” Mr. Quinn said. “You look... fit as well.”
Laughter bubbled out of Ethel. Giggly and light and not proper in the least. Cassian found himself so taken aback from hearing it that he nearly recoiled. Ethel hadneverlaughed like that with him. Ever.
Mr. Quinn squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head once rather vigorously.
“Apologies, Miss Barrington,” he said. “I shouldn’t have been so forward with you.”
Ethel’s face had become as red as a ripened tomato. Even once she stopped laughing, she was still smiling from ear to ear. And for some reason, seeing it made Cassian want to smile too.
“Oh, I’m not offended. I’m flattered.”
“Really?”
Ethel nodded, meeting Mr. Quinn’s eyes. “Yes. Truly.”
Mr. Quinn smiled back.
Cassian watched Ethel and his valet stare into each other’s eyes for another couple of seconds before being struck with a realization and abruptly shutting the door.
