She swallowed a couple of times. “Mrs Agnes Francis.”
“You’re safe now, Mrs Francis.” I patted her shoulder. “Here, have a cup of tea.”
“Call the doctor,” Rennie barked at the attendants who were standing close, gaping at us.
A few people darted out of the hall, and the attendants dispersed the crowd.
“Can you describe him?” Rennie asked Mrs Francis in a gentle tone.
She patted her dishevelled curls. “Oh, he was a strapping young man with curly red hair and lovely blue eyes. Straight nose. Strong jaw.” As she talked, her breathing slowed and she stopped fiddling with her hands. “Quite handsome. And he was wearing a beautiful kilt that left his legs bare. Strong, muscular legs, that is. Broad shoulders and strong arms, too. When he swept me off my feet into his embrace, like a knight of old helping the damsel...” She coughed, her cheeks flushing further. “Well, he was strapping and handsome. That’s all.”
I exchanged a glance with Rennie. Mrs Francis didn’t seem terrified by the attack but rather excited by the encounter.
Rennie bowed to her. “Madam, I’ll have a look around and inform the police on board. Please stay here.”
“Thank you.” She put a hand on his and smiled.
While Rennie made his way across the hall packed with whispering passengers, she tilted her head to stare at his rear. Good Lord. Was she admiring Rennie’s bottom? After being attacked? Although I couldn’t blame her. Rennie could be scary, but his rear end wasn’t bad at all. All firm and taut, stretching the fabric of his trousers. Naked, he must be a sight to behold. Dear me. What a thought to have. Mrs Francis’s excitement had to be contagious.
“You must be quite upset,” I said to distract myself from my inappropriate thoughts.
“Oh, it was exciting as well.” She winked.
I was confused. “Exciting?”
“He kissed me, and good gracious, it was such a passionate kiss.”
I was even more confused. “I’m sorry, madam, but did he force you?”
She gazed around, ignoring my question.
“Here I am.” The red-haired nurse hurried towards Mrs Francis. “Please come with me, madam. I’ll take good care of you.” She narrowed her gaze at me, probably still annoyed by our conversation.
“Thank you, dear,” Mrs Francis said, walking away.
I stayed in the dining hall, enjoying another cup of tea while waiting for Rennie. Wasn’t that odd? Two attacks, one after another, from two different men, although I doubted Mrs Francis was as distraught as I’d been after the man had kicked me.
Rennie walked over to me, his face tense and the tendons in his neck standing out under his skin.
“Is something the matter?” I asked, lowering my cup.
Worry lines marked his brow as he sat next to me. “I couldn’t find any trace of a Scotsman. Among the passengers, there are only five Scots, and none of them fit the description of Mrs Francis’s attacker.”
“Anyone can wear a kilt.” My voice lacked confidence, though. There was something plainly bizarre about the attack.
“Yes, but who would be so foolish to attack a woman in broad daylight, on a ship, surrounded by other people a few yards away while wearing a rather noticeable kilt? I can’t find any—” He fell silent and ran a hand over his face. “Hellfire.”
“You can’t find what?” I edged closer.
“Nothing,” he muttered.
“Rennie.” I couldn’t help it and put my hand on his, stroking the rough skin over his knuckles. I wasn’t prepared for the shock of sensation coursing through me as he stared at me with an intensity that made me gasp. “What is it? You can trust me. I’ll help you. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you’ll help me.” His thumb caressed my fingers. “And I trust you.”
A warm flutter started in my chest and went lower, heating my body all the way down. I explored his hand, touching the tiny scars and calluses. I wanted to ask him how he got the scar on his neck, but speaking would break the moment, and I didn’t want to stop touching him.
We stared into each other’s eyes. I didn’t know what was happening to us and didn’t care. Then he gently turned my hand, so that my palm faced up, and dipped his head. A breath tore out of me as he placed a soft kiss on my inner wrist. My mouth dropped open. The kiss was gentle, yet passionate, and the soft scratching of his stubble against my hand fired energy through me. A tingle burned my skin, and the flutter deep in my belly became a storm of emotion. His soft lips brushed another kiss that made me catch my breath. He paused, his gaze on the inch of scarred skin peeping from underneath the hem of my sleeve.
