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Ronan says news of a plague outbreak has reached the harbormaster. Two ships, newly arrived from West Africa, are under quarantine. I cannot help but fret for Trinity, for the harbors of Tangiers and Casablanca may soon be closed to prevent the further spread of the contagion. I pray our friend is well and safe.

~Mrs. Mercy Brockman, in a letter to Mrs. Faith Kellinggrave

Still in Trinity’s stateroom

Sniffling, Trinity nodded, too mortified to meet Devin’s sympathetic gaze. She had not meant to dissolve into tears. His compassion had breached her fortifications, and the dratted tears had spilled from her eyes, despite her forbidding them to flow.

Come now, Trinity Samantha Honoria Shepard Ablethorne. You are made of sterner stuff. You are strong. Independent. Capable. Resilient.

True, but at this moment, she merely needed someone to hold her. Someone to be strong for her. For so long, she’d relied only on herself, and the truth was that it was wonderful to depend on someone else, if only for a few minutes.

Honestly, she could not recall the last time anyone had hugged her, other than a brief embrace by one of her girlhood friends. In this tiny cabin on a ship sailing across the Atlantic Ocean, without friends or family, uncertain what the future held for her, and utterly at the mercy of Fate’s fickleness, she could not summon her usual stoicism and fortitude.

Not that Trinity truly believed in fate or luck. As a woman of strong faith, she had always believed in the power of prayer and God’s destiny and purpose. Still, even the most devoted person was allowed a moment of weakness.

Weren’t they?

“We shall think of something,” Devin said. “It is not as bad as all of that.”

It was, and he knew it.

Nevertheless, Trinity’s heart softened a fraction more at his attempt to comfort her.

She welcomed his arms encircling her in a tender yet strong embrace—savored the succor that laying her face against the wide expanse of his chest offered. And, yes, she admitted secretly to herself, she delighted in the soft kisses he pressed to her scalp while murmuring soothing words and nonsensical promises.

He smelled of shaving lotion, soap, and the merest hint of sea air.

Devin Everingham might be a rogue, a deucedly tempting one, but he was also kind.

Trinity had misjudged him.

Last night, after Mrs. Peagilly’s body had been removed, Trinity had lain in the upper bunk, staring at the ceiling. She’d gone over and over every scenario, attempting to find a solution to her quandary.

Mrs. Peagilly had not minced words about the possible perils when she had offered Trinity employment. Just two days ago, she had reiterated the dangers.

“You must never, and I do mean never, Trinity, venture anywhere alone. I have hired several guards to protect us. They will meet us at the ship. You would not be the first young European woman to go missing if you do not heed my advice. Women are sold as sex slaves all over Africa, and blue-eyed women are in particular demand.”

A shiver scuttled up Trinity’s spine.

She might be able to borrow funds for passage, but she had no means to repay them until she found a new position or a place to stay until a ship was available to take her home.

In his quarters earlier—in an awkward and disconcerting conversation—Captain Breckett politely denied her request to remain on the Daunting Duchess. All the cabins were promised to passengers leaving Morocco

Trinity had been eager to leave her last post because it was boring. More fool her. She would take boring now if it meant security.

Would she really?

Bah, when had she become fickle and flighty? Doubleminded?

At least she could stop feeling sorry for herself, for pity’s sake.

Inhaling a ragged breath, she lifted her head, her face averted to hide her red-rimmed eyes.

“I apologize.” She retreated a step and swiped at her face, catching sight of the dark stain on Devin’s fine Kersey wool coat. “I have dampened your coat front.”

With a sideways grin hitching his mouth up on one side, he lifted her chin. “It is just a coat. It will dry.” And likely stain. “You are more important.”

Shaking her head, she furrowed her forehead. “How can you say that when you barely know me?”