FOURTEEN
RENNIE KEPTHIS word for the rest of the day.
Curse him.
That night, when he sat on the floor in my cabin, he didn’t touch me, didn’t kiss me, and didn’t do anything. I was still basking in the post-bliss of our rather pleasurable encounter in the conservatory; thus I didn’t try to seduce him. Besides, I wasn’t completely sure how to start seducing him. Not to mention, I’d die of embarrassment if he rejected me.
“Are you all right?” he asked, lowering a document he’d been reading. “You keep wringing your hands and shifting.”
“Don’t you want to sleep next to me?”
His face hardened. “No.”
“You’re lying.”
“And you should be sleeping.”
“I’m not?—”
The knock on the door shut me up.
“Er, Mr Steele?” Norton asked from the other side of the door. “I’m terribly sorry to trouble you, but there’s been an incident.”
Rennie was on his feet before I could grab my dressing gown. He opened the door a crack. “What happened?”
“One of the passengers.” Norton lowered his voice. “Mrs Morrison, she claimed you, er, didn’t behave like a gentleman to her.”
“What?” Rennie’s roar echoed in the cabin at the same time as I said, “Preposterous.”
It was the lamia. I tied the sash of my dressing gown and jumped off the bed.
“I need to ask you a few questions,” Norton said. “If you follow me to my office, I’ll be very grateful.”
“Of course.” Rennie put the documents in his bag and threw an exasperated glance at me.
The moment he shut the door behind him, I changed into the first dress I could grab and rushed towards Oliver’s cabin. I was wheezing by the time I ran up two levels and down the longest corridor in the world. My body was still recovering.
“Oliver?” I knocked on his door none-too-gently.
“Miss Fitzwilliam?” he asked from the other side. He opened the door, fully dressed in his grey suit. “Is something the matter?” His hair stuck out in every direction, as if he’d run his hands through it several times.
I brushed past him to enter his cabin. “Can I have a word with you in private?”
“What is it?” he said, closing the door behind him.
“The lamia. It attacked Mrs Morrison disguised as Rennie. Detective Norton is interrogating him.”
“Excellent.” A slow grin stretched his lips. “Where was Mrs Morrison attacked?”
“I don’t know, but I need your memory power to help Rennie.”
A scoff left him as he threw a dismissive hand up. “Rennie can wait. I want to see the woman first.”
“But if you help Rennie first, we can go together to see Mrs Morrison.”
“Where is Mrs Morrison?”
Anger burned the back of my mouth. “I don’t know.”
