“No. I think he just wanted to get away. It wasn’t a pleasant trip. We were both very sad.”
Erina understood. She’d been little more than a child when she’d lost her mother. Her heart throbbed with distress for him. No wonder he didn’t want to go to Ireland again. “I wish you’d told me. I feel dreadful taking you back there.”
“It may lay some ghosts to rest.” His gaze met hers. “In more ways than one.”
“I do hope so.”
He turned away and pointed. “Look, Erina, on the horizon, another ship. A big one, probably on its way to America.”
“Yes! I see it.” He had changed the subject. For once, she didn’t pursue it. Perhaps she was learning patience.
The swell increased. The boat rose and fell as it plowed through the waves.
A cold, clammy sweat made her shiver. She glanced around, searching for the way to the water closet, but then her stomach clenched and churned, and she was afraid to move far from the side.
Another lurch of the ship and the contents of Erina’s stomach rushed into her throat. “Ooh.” Hanging on to the rail, she vomited over the side. She clung on and gasped as embarrassment heated her cheeks.
Harry’s arm came around her waist to steady her. “Oh, go away, Harry. I’m sick,” she murmured. Her bonnet fell forward over herforehead, almost blinding her. She dared not risk letting go of her grip on the rail to push the hat back.
With a steady hand, he removed her hat and smoothed her hair away from her face. “You’ll feel better when we reach calmer waters.”
“Nooo.” She moaned. “I’m going to die!”
“Nonsense,” came the stern reply. He offered her a large, spotless handkerchief.
With the suspicion there was nothing of her breakfast remaining, she carefully pushed back away from the rail and dabbed at her lips, a sour taste in her mouth. She tucked the handkerchief into her reticule. “Can you help me to the place set aside for ladies to…?”
“I believe it’s communal.”
She gasped and stared at him in horror.
“I’ll take you as far as the door, and then you are on your own.”
A little while later, Erina emerged, feeling slightly better. She’d rinsed her mouth, washed her face, and tidied her hair. Either the sea had calmed, or she was growing used to it; she wasn’t sure.
Harry waited, leaning his elbows on the rail, her hat in his hand. “All right now?”
“I am, thank you.” She eyed him suspiciously. “You aren’t going to say you told me so, are you?”
He settled her hat on her head. “You’re a better color.”
She knew she looked horribly bedraggled. “I’m sorry; that wasn’t very generous of me.”
“Never mind. Not a pleasant thing to cast up one’s accounts, and I’m sure you’re tired. Look.” He gestured to the misty, gray shape that lay ahead. “Land! We should dock in an hour or so.”
“Oh, that is good,” she said, with a surge of relief. “When we get to Dublin, I’ll hire a carriage. We can travel to Cathleen’s home in the morning.”
“Allow me to arrange it. I remember my father and I putting up at the Gresham Hotel in Sackville Street. We’ll stay there tonight.”
Erina’s empty stomach rumbled. She’d not been able to think of food or drink anything except water since breakfast. “You are very good, Harry.” She’d begun to rely on him more and more. She should mind, but somehow, she didn’t. Anyway, it would seem ungrateful to protest. But as they grew closer to their destination, her concern about what they might find grew. Cathleen had not answered her last letter. But with the mail so slow, surely that wasn’t surprising.
Chapter Twelve
The next afternoon,Colonel Bascombe received Jack in his warm, smoky library, his hand on the mantel, beneath which a coal fire snapped and popped in the grate. No longer young, the gray-haired colonel remained upright and strong, as if doubt had never touched his heart.
“Can I offer you a drink, Jack?”
“Thank you, sir.”
