The introductions betweenNash and Raúl proceeded smoother than Maxey had expected. Nash acted as her protective uncle, asking Raúl far too many personal questions about his life, finances, and intentions. Like a gentleman, Raúl gave precise answers and never indicated he wanted more than her friendship.
Supper passed easily. Not once did Maxey worry about either man. It was as if everyone had a role to play tonight. She certainly had a part to perform, and within moments, she needed to step into her investigator role. She wrestled with whether to inform Nash of her plan. Knowing that hardheaded man, he would try to stop her, since he assumed she constantly needed protection.
Nash pushed away his empty plate and rose from the table. They ate in the lovely dining area, and thankfully well enough away from everyone so they could carry on a decent conversation.
“That was filling, do you not agree?” Nash asked Maxey.
“Indeed it was.”
“Might I suggest a walk on deck to enjoy the evening?”
She switched her focus to Raúl. “What do you say? Would you like to join us?”
He rose and offered his arm. “Only if you will allow me to be your escort.”
Maxey remained seated, readying herself for Nash’s reaction. Tiny lines of tension pulled at the corners of his mouth. His eyes darkened, but not in the same manner or shade she saw when he held her in his arms and peered into her eyes with so much tenderness. Instead, it almost appeared as if jealousy became the root of his attitude.
A nerve in his neck jumped. “As her guardian, I think you should have directed that question to me first, Raúl.”
Panic surged through her, and she lost her breath. It appeared her first order of business would be calming Nash’s anger. She needed to stand near Raúl if she planned on lifting his room key from his pocket.
She stood and walked to Nash. Patting his arm, she stared into his eyes. “Come now, Uncle Nash. Don’t worry so.” She winked. “All will be fine, since you will be joining us.”
“I suppose.” He arched an eyebrow.
Maxey gave him a quick, platonic hug, whispering in his ear, “I’m going to sneak away in a minute. Keep him entertained so he doesn’t follow me.”
Nash’s forehead creased and his eyes narrowed. She didn’t have time to explain. Not now, while they stood with Raúl.
She turned back to their new friend and slipped her hand around his arm. “Shall we proceed?”
Raúl gave Nash an assessing stare. Maxey held her breath, waiting for approval, and after a couple of silent—and very unnerving—seconds, Nash nodded.
Topside, without her cloak, the cool wind played across her skin, sending a shiver through her. She had left her wrap in her room on purpose.
Raúl frowned. “Where is your cape? You will catch your death out here if you do not keep yourself covered.”
“I shall be all right. You can keep me warm.” She snuggled against his arm, slyly maneuvering a hand into his coat pocket. When her fingers grazed the metallic key, she held her breath. Carefully, she pinched the key between two fingers, slowly slid it out, then grasped it in her palm.
Nash cleared his throat. Anger darkened his face. “Maxey, I am still your guardian, and you must maintain proper decorum. You do not know Raúl well enough to be so open with him. And I insist you hurry back to the room and fetch your cloak this instant.”
She held herself from laughing. Although Nash gave a splendid performance as her uncle, he was still very humorous.
“Raúl, please forgive me for—”
“No need to apologize.” Raúl threw a glare at Nash. “Unlike most men, I do understand the needs of a woman.” Smiling at Maxey, he caressed the hand still hooked over his arm. “But your uncle is correct. You need to have some protection from the cold.”
She stepped back and nodded. “If you will excuse me, then. I shall return momentarily.”
Nash pulled himself straighter. “Hurry, my dear. In your absence, I shall get to know Raúl a little better.”
She held in her sigh of relief until she hurried down the stairs and stood in front of Raúl’s room. As she slid the key into the slot, her hand shook. She didn’t know why nerves had suddenly made their debut. She really wasn’t tense, just excited.
Inside, the room was very dim. Only small slivers of moonlight filtered through the window, but not enough to conduct a thorough search. She found a lamp on the table, and after lighting it and turning it low, she started her search in a corner. Just as in her cabin, there wasn’t much space to hide things, which meant everything was probably stored in his trunks. To her dismay, they were locked.
Growling, she fished through her hair for one of her pins, hoping it didn’t pull apart her bun in the process. Carefully and steadily, she positioned the pin over the bolt on the first trunk and slid it in. It had been a while since she had to pick a lock.
At a young age, her brother Thomas learned the talent and tried to teach it to her. She hadn’t quite polished the skill before her father discovered what his children were doing and took a willow branch to their backsides. Now, when she needed the knowledge the most, she couldn’t quite remember how.
