He had made the right decision, though. He wasn’t ready for commitment and didn’t want to lead Maxey into believing something that wasn’t true. He had hurt her, but it would have been worse had he made love to her and then crushed her dreams.
The ship’s gentle sway lured him into relaxation, and he seriously considered retiring to his room for some sleep. But he didn’t want to speak to Maxey about what happened earlier. If he waited a couple more hours before going downstairs, she would probably be asleep. So he lurked at the railing, praying for time to pass.
The quarter moon cast spooky shadows on the water, and when he thought the ship jarred a different way, his cautious nature perked up a notch. The water even splashed in an altered rhythm. Peering through the night, he tried to focus on the sea, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
Shrugging off the prickly sensations jumping over his skin, he turned away from the railing and walked toward the other side of the ship. He nodded greetings to a few female passengers with whom he had become acquainted on the trip, and considered himself lucky that their husbands accompanied them. He didn’t need them trying to steal his attention right now.
He stopped, leaned his back against the railing, and looked at the dwindling group remaining on deck. The brisk sea air had no doubt sent the rest of the passengers scurrying to their cabins. At the far end, he spied Raúl standing with eight strange men. Nash didn’t recognize them from those he had seen on the ship.
Since setting sail, Nash had cautiously made note of each face, wary of everything and everyone. What were the odds so many men had kept to their cabins since the first day?
When Raúl’s attention skimmed across the deck and rested on Nash, the other eight men whipped their heads around to look at him too. Tightness consumed his chest. This was not some coincidental meeting. Somehow, someway, his uncle was behind this.
On this, Nash would bet his life—which was what he might have to give up soon.
Panic gripped him, making it painful to breathe. He was unarmed. It was quite a while since he’d used his fists to protect himself. He needed to retrieve the revolver from his room, yet he didn’t want to lure the men to Maxey.
“Good evening, Mr. Black.” A feminine voice pulled his attention to his left as Mr. and Mrs. Summers stopped beside him.
He bowed slightly. “And it is a good evening, is it not?” He glanced over the water. “I have not seen a more calming sight in my life.” Despite his words, his mind spun, trying to find a way to retrieve his weapon.
Mr. Summers, probably in his fiftieth year, chuckled, his double chin shaking in the same rhythm as his overlarge belly. “Yes, it’s a perfect evening for romance.” He squeezed his wife’s arm.
Mrs. Summers, who looked to be younger than her husband by at least twenty years, blushed. “Mr. Black? Why are you not sharing the evening with someone?” She glanced around the deck. “Where is Miss Littleton?”
“She has taken to her room. The cooler weather has made her irritable.”
Mrs. Summers shook her head. “I hope she has overcome her bout with seasickness.”
“She has, thankfully.”
Mr. Summers turned away to leave, but Nash touched his arm. “Mr. Summers? Could I have a private word with you?” Nash looked at the man’s beautiful wife. “It will only take a moment, I assure you.”
Pink stained her face again, and she nodded.
After they had taken a few steps away from the woman, Nash said in a low voice, “I need your help.”
The older man’s eyebrows arched. “For what?”
“I need you to go to my cabin and get my revolver from Miss Littleton, then bring it to me as quickly as possible.”
Mr. Summers’ forehead creased. “Whatever for?”
“I think I am about to be attacked.”
The other man’s fast intake of breath made him choke slightly.
Nash continued, “Please be discreet. I do not want these men to know that I suspect their plans.”
“Who—” Mr. Summers started to look around, but Nash tugged on his arm again.
“Please do not look now.” He waited for Mr. Summers’ attention before continuing. “A group of nine men are gathered over on your right. I do not think they will make a scene with this many people on deck, which is why I will remain up here for as long as I can. I need you to go to my room and get my revolver. Will you do this for me?”
Mr. Summers nodded.
“Take your wife back to your cabin first. She should not be involved.”
“Do you want me to inform the captain?”
