“You wouldn’t be here.”
“Unless it’s my work and you’re my charge.”
Ha! I wanted to giggle at how easily he gave me some information. “Did my parents pay you to be here?”
“No comment.” He clammed up.
I huffed. “I was honest. You should be too.”
“I’m not lying. I prefer not to say anything.”
“Semantics.” I didn’t insist. The nausea was gone, but fatigue was weighing me down. Talking tired me out.
We stopped in front of the door to my cabin. I slid my arm out of his. “I’ll freshen up and see you in the dining hall.”
He gave a curt nod. Something he did a lot.
“See you later.” I released a breath when I was alone in my cabin, an odd tingling dancing on my skin.
It was wonderful to wash and change into a fresh dress without groaning with nausea. I winced at my own reflection in the mirror. Pretty? Absolutely not. The sun and the salty air had turned my hair into straw and my skin into a beetroot. The seasickness had made my cheeks gaunt, dried my lips, and given me dark circles around my bloodshot eyes. It took me a good half an hour to tame my tresses into something resembling a chignon and to apply some powder to my face. The rouge wasn’t needed. My cheeks and lips were red enough. In fact, I looked almost tipsy. Washing the stink from my body took another half an hour, but afterwards, I was human again.
I chose a white and pink satin dress with small, puffed sleeves and a pink shawl, delicate but elegant. Of course, thanks to my parents’ hurry to shove me onto the cursed ship, I didn’t have a maid to help me dress.
“Bother.” My hands couldn’t reach the last buttons on the back of the gown, no matter how much I contorted and strained myself.
Never mind. I covered my back with the shawl. If I kept it around my shoulders, no one would notice the top half of my dress was unbuttoned, and if I didn’t move too much, the bodice wouldn’t slip down.
I tugged one of my long silk gloves up my hand, pausing over the scar. It was an ugly mark, all uneven edges, and it twisted viciously around my arm. A moment of distraction, an impatient horse, and I’d fallen over a stack of sharp pieces of wood that had stabbed my arm. A choking sensation constricted my throat, which was ridiculous. The incident happened years ago, and after all, nothing had occurred to me aside from the cut on my arm and a scar I could easily hide. It could have been worse. Yet every time I stared at the scar, my breath came out of me in hard pants, and a nagging sensation pricked the back of my neck. I scratched the itchy skin, wincing as I touched the rough, bumpy scar. Would Rennie still think I was pretty if he saw it?
A gasp escaped me when I opened the door. Rennie stood in the corridor—or whatever the name of a corridor on a ship was—his arms folded over his chest and brow furrowed. His forehead smoothed when he raked his gaze over me. It was so quick I wasn’t sure he’d been staring at me at all.
“Have you been waiting here for long?” I asked.
His reply was another gaze. “Are you ready?”
“Why did you wait here?” I tugged at my shawl.
He shrugged and offered me his arm again. Annoying man. “Keep an eye on you.”
“Is it possible to have a proper conversation with you?” I asked as we strolled along the corridor.
Another shrug. “What would you like to converse about?”
“Well, why are you here, for starters?”
He paused to let a couple of passengers pass. “I’m your chaperone.”
“The term ‘bodyguard’ is more appropriate,” I muttered under my breath.
“What do you mean?”
“I know nothing about you. I met you a few days ago in Southampton. Father said you work at his office, but I’m sure I’ve never seen you. Why would my parents choose you as my chaperone?”
He had the audacity to shrug again with an air of innocence. “That’s something you should ask your parents.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Thank you.” There was too much amusement in his voice for my liking.
I pressed my lips together and didn’t utter a word. Talking with him was pointless. At least I could enjoy the chandeliers and the magnificent brocade curtains in the dining hall. I hadn’t noticed how wide and lovely the room was, and I’d admit the view of the sea, shimmering with the moonlight, brought tears to my eyes. For once, emotional tears. A small orchestra played violin music in a corner, and the light from the gas lamps was reflected on the pristine white tablecloths. And the smell! Had the dining room always smelled so delicious? The scent of lemons and lilies filled my nostrils.
As Rennie silently led me to our table right next to a window, I decided that perhaps a good dose of wine would loosen his tongue. It was time to get answers and solve the mystery of my unplanned, utterly horrendous trip.
