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There was nothing to be done. I could not, in good conscience, force any crew members or passengers to disembark the ship in Morocco, nor could I risk taking infected persons aboard. It weighs heavily upon me as captain of this vessel and a man of God.

I pray for the souls I left behind and ask that God forgive me if I made the wrong decision. I intended to save as many lives as possible by reducing the plague’s spread.

At Mr. Everingham’s directive as a partial owner of the ship, and with my full cooperation and agreement, I have given the order to weigh anchor and return to England, our cargo intact.

~Captain Horatio Breckett, in the Daunting Duchess’s logbook

London Harbor

Four and a half days later—early evening

1 November

Trinity clutched Devin’s arm as they disembarked the ship. Back in London’s damp and chill, less than a fortnight after sailing away that fateful night full of hope and expectations. Fate must be having a good laugh.

Blessedly, the weather had cooperated the entire voyage, even providing a welcome tailwind to speed them along the route home. Other than a minor bout of nausea, Devin had not suffered from seasickness on the return voyage.

Hopefully, that meant his constitution was similar to hers, and he would not become sick on future voyages they enjoyed together.

Other than Mr. Amzil, whose fear for his family outweighed any concern for his personal safety, no one else had set foot in Casablanca. Mr. McKinnick had not needed much persuasion by his adamant—nearly hysterical—spouse to forsake his diplomatic appointment. Given the circumstances, he felt confident the British government would understand and assign him a different post. If not, he vowed that he had no regrets about sacrificing his career to ensure his family’s wellbeing.

Even Misters Meriwether and Truman-Shelton had confided over supper last night that they had decided to put aside their entrepreneurial business enterprises in favor of less perilous ventures in England. Trinity still wasn’t convinced either man could be trusted, but at least they had not swindled anyone aboard the Daunting Duchess.

Thank goodness the voyage was relatively brief, as far as voyages go, and there had been no shortage of staples or food.

Devin revealed that Captain Breckett refused to permit a single barrel, bundle, pallet, or crate to be loaded onto the ship from the port of Casablanca. Nonetheless, it had taken all afternoon to persuade East Indie Dock authorities not to quarantine the ship’s crew and passengers.

“I shall have a devil of a time convincing the investors and merchants that returning to London without delivering or picking up cargo was the best financial decision,” Devin said. “But you cannot put a price on lives. Had they been in my place, I would hope they’d err on the side of caution too.”

Two laughing urchins ran by, their clothing ragged and patched but their faces clean. An equally shabby dog, his tongue lolling and adoration in his gaze, trotted beside them. Trinity had always wanted a dog, but traveling as she had these many years did not allow her the opportunity, and none of her previous employers had pets.

She swept Devin a contemplative glance from beneath her lashes. He said he would like a dog. Mayhap they could get a puppy.

The voyage home had been four of the happiest days of her life, and by the time the Daunting Duchess anchored, Trinity had no doubt she had fallen completely, irreversibly, and happily in love with her husband. They’d yet to consummate their marriage, but she felt certain they would do so soon.

She quite anticipated becoming Devin’s wife in every way.

With him, Trinity could envision a future she’d never before let herself imagine. Dreams she had long ago shoved to fusty corners to molder, she could now drag out, dust off, and permit to become a reality.

It wasn’t just that he was considerate and tender, kind and fair, but he was also funny, had a mischievous streak, and made her feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman who’d ever walked the earth.

Oh, she still harbored misgivings and uncertainties about Devin. Not the solicitous, considerate man aboard the ship, but the rakehell she’d witnessed at the Mumfords’ house party.

Which was the real Devin?

Perhaps both aspects were.

Complex and multifaceted, did people change as their circumstances altered, or was behavior a result of human will or inherent instinct?

She glanced over her shoulder at the sailors behind her and Devin carrying their luggage on muscled shoulders. He had arranged to have their trunks delivered to his London house.

Captain Breckett had ensured Trinity that Mrs. Peagilly’s nephew would collect her belongings.

Accustomed to traveling light, Trinity owned little in the way of material possessions, so when Devin said he would like to purchase her an entirely new wardrobe, she had not known how to respond. Of course, now that she was married to one of London’s wealthiest men, she must present herself appropriately for her new station.

Only, she still wasn’t entirely certain what that was. Neither did she want to parade about in the first tulip of fashion and draw undue attention to herself.

A glossy black carriage pulled by a pair of stunning ebony horses drew to a halt before them. A coachman in a smart black wool greatcoat climbed down.