“But—”
“And if I happen to fall asleep before you return, we can read the next chapter tomorrow instead.”
It was difficult not to laugh, but Devlin forced his most inscrutable expression to the surface since he wasn’t convinced Cassandra would appreciate him finding humor in the situation. Discreetly, he mouthed words of thanks to Penelope. He could kiss her for taking his side and knew this was what she had done when she suddenly winked at him from across the table.
If Monty and Bronswick thought it odd for Cassandra to try and avoid Devlin’s company, they gave no indication. Most likely because they were both, much to Devlin’s relief, engrossed in a conversation about men’s boots – a subject Devlin felt had been exhausted at least ten minutes earlier.
“Well then,” Cassandra murmured, her voice conveying the defeat she most likely felt. She looked straight at Devlin and graciously inclined her head. “A bit of fresh air would be welcome.”
“Excellent.” Pleased with himself, he ate the remainder of his dessert, waited for everyone else to finish as well, and stood. “We can see you to your cabin first, Penelope. If you like?”
“Unless the young lady would rather remain here with us for a game of cards,” Monty said.
“Oh. I’d love to.” Penelope looked to her mother for approval. “May I, Mama?”
Cassandra nodded. “Of course.” She gave her attention to Monty and Bronswick next. “Just as long as the two of you don’t teach her how to gamble.”
“Oh, we would never,” Monty began.
“Didn’t even cross our minds,” Bronswick said.
“Until you mentioned it, that is,” Monty said, then hastily waved one hand and added, “but our game will be quite innocent. Truly, Mrs. Crawford, you can trust us implicitly.”
“They’re going to teach her how to gamble, aren’t they?” Cassandra asked once she and Devlin had exited the dining room and were making their way through the passageway toward the ladder.
“Most likely,” Devlin confessed.
To his surprise, Cassandra smiled. “That’s all right. Sharing a secret with Monty and Bronswick will make her feel more at home.”
Agreeing, but choosing to keep his opinion to himself, Devlin followed Cassandra up onto the deck. The air was still, the sky entirely black save for the smattering of stars, gleaming like flecks of silver overhead. A few strategically placed lanterns offered enough light for the crew to see, but for tonight, Devlin decided it served an additional purpose, the golden hue lending a romantic touch to the overall atmosphere.
Turning, he raised one hand in acknowledgement of the sailor who presently maintained the course, then offered Cassandra his arm and escorted her slowly toward the prow. He’d spent little time in her company since their outing in Lisbon. With a schedule to keep, the previous day and the evening prior to that had been spent on logistics, on packing fresh fruit and vegetables, completing his ledgers and updating his log. Because of the longer stretch of open water ahead, he’d also spent several hours in Bronswick’s company, ensuring all was in order, that there were no cracks in the wood, no hint of insects in any of their supplies, and not a frayed rope in sight. So it was nice to feel her arm press against his as they walked, their strides slow and measured – a light scrape and tap in the otherwise silent night.
“Do you remember when we first met?” He glanced down at her, pleased to catch a smile on her lips before she answered.
“Of course. You arrived home during a dinner your brother was hosting at Camberly House.” She gave him a slight nudge. “It was a very brief introduction since you chose not to join the party. Instead, you requested a tray be brought up to your room, as I recall.”
“You’ve an excellent memory. I wasn’t even thinking of that but rather of our next encounter at the Huntingham ball.”
“I suppose it was the first time we had an actual conversation with each other.”
He grinned, liking the easy journey they were taking into the past. “I had no intention of dancing that evening. Not because I’m averse to the exercise, but rather because I was out of practice. Caleb insisted, however, and I ended up partnering with you.”
“So you did.” Her eyes twinkled in the light from a nearby lantern. “And you were actually rather good.”
“Only because you put me at ease by pointing out the guests who were doing things they weren’t supposed to when they thought no one else was looking.”
She laughed. “Like Cakesneaker, Slippertosser, and oh, Bottompincher?”
“I cannot believe you recall the names.” He grinned and shook his head, then dropped his gaze toward hers. The air thickened with the sense of camaraderie they’d always shared, but with something else too – something that seemed to tug at his heart. “Do you regret marrying me?”
He hadn’t meant to ask such a question. On the contrary, he’d meant to compliment her hair, which looked particularly pretty tonight. But then he’d wondered if she would appreciate such a compliment, which had made him wonder why he would even have cause to worry about such a thing. And he’d realized he did have cause because, damn it all, she didn’t want him to touch her or kiss her or do the things he so desperately wanted to do.
“No. It was the right decision. Not only for Penelope, but for me as well. I just…” She turned away so she could stare at the endless blackness beyond the ship’s railing. He waited for her to continue, until he was tempted to prompt her or shake her or something. And then she turned back, her eyes meeting his with bold intensity. “You are a wonderful man, Dev. The best man there is, I believe. And I am sorry I’m being so difficult. It’s not fair to you at all when you have been nothing but patient and kind. But I…I…” She shook her head as if to inform him she’d lost the words to explain, and because he sensed what she required right now more than anything else was friendship, he pulled her into his arms for a hug.
It took a moment before she responded, but then her arms came around him as well, with a fierceness that surprised him. Somehow, for whatever reason, she needed to be held and comforted, to know she wasn’t alone as she may have felt for so very long.
Yes, she’d had Mary and Emily to help her at Clearview, but when it came to Penelope, the reality was she’d been a single mother who’d lacked the support and love she should have received from her own parents. She’d lived through tragedy at much too young an age and been forced to shoulder problems no young woman of eighteen should have to bear.
