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Authors: Sophia Nash
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a way off this island without climbing onto another ship, sir, if I may be so bold.”
The older man chuckled. “If you learn how to walk on water, I should be glad to see it.”
Roman motioned with his hand indicating they should depart, and then they were in the well-lit whitewashed hall, and making their way down the front stair, where one in three steps creaked, but in a charming kind of way—like the stairs to the attics of Norwich Hall.
Despite the ache in his head, Roman kept a pleasant enough countenance. It had been ingrained in him: dukes did not complain. Unfortunately, he would have preferred to complain all the time. “Lovely calm evening,” he stated.
“It’s always like this after a storm,” the captain replied.
“And always like this before a storm, too,” she said pertly.
“Right you are, Lady Derby,” the captain said chuckling. “Have you always liked sailing, then, madam?”
Roman nodded to the inn’s footman to open the door. “I would wager she likes it better than anything.”
“And why would you say that?” She eyed him from beneath her lashes. On any other woman it would have been coquettish. On her it seemed natural.
“You like it enough to go off alone. You didn’t depart London with a single other acquaintance, if I understood it correctly.” He paused. “Almost like you were running away.”
The night air was cool, still, and very clear.
“Of course not,” she said. “I do not like to bore others and I’m determined to do exactly what I would like to do on this trip. And I would rather someone else not bore me for the same reason.”
The captain looked between them as Roman and Lady Derby examined each other. “Pardon me, but I must have a word with Jem. Must find out how the repair is coming along.”
Neither said a word as the captain departed until finally she turned to face him. “How very lowering. I obviously bored the man to pieces. Like I said, it’s why I am traveling alone. Was it something I said?”
“Yes,” he answered instantly. “It was precisely what you said.”
“What did I say?”
“Well, if you can’t remember, March, I shan’t tell you. Why suffer embarrassment twice when we can just ignore the whole thing and keep walking. Toward the table.”
“What’s on the table that’s so fascinating?”
“Ummm, the spiked eel looks very good, no?”
She made a face. “No.”
“The filet of goat, then?”
“Ugh.” She wore an insufferably smug smile. “You’re looking at the ale.”
“Of course it’s the ale. I’m bloody thirsty.”
She turned serious. “But you promised.”
“I promised not to drink spirits, for some insane reason. I must have been rummy to the gills to make such a promise. But that is just ale—not spirits at all.” He nodded toward the tankards. “I must have been truly foxed to agree to something like that.”
“No. Just suffering the regret of the night before,” she replied.
He tugged at her arm. She willingly followed him to the relative privacy of the willow tree near the line of tables.
She examined him. “Tell me. Do you crave it?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Do you think about it all the time? My husband did, I think.”
He stood very still. Finally, he would know who Derby was. “And what happened to him?” he asked carefully.
“You did not know him? Hmmm. I would have thought you might have.”
He wished he had. It would allow him to know her better. “I’m not sure I did. The name is very familiar though.”
She blushed for some odd reason. “I’m not surprised.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But most of his friends deserted him in the end.”
“Why, that is deplorable. What did he do to deserve such treatment?” he encouraged.
“Surely you can guess.” She tilted her chin up. “He drank himself to death.”
It was hard to think of a response to such brutal honesty. He slowly replied, “I am sorry to hear it.”
“And I am not certain if I made his
The older man chuckled. “If you learn how to walk on water, I should be glad to see it.”
Roman motioned with his hand indicating they should depart, and then they were in the well-lit whitewashed hall, and making their way down the front stair, where one in three steps creaked, but in a charming kind of way—like the stairs to the attics of Norwich Hall.
Despite the ache in his head, Roman kept a pleasant enough countenance. It had been ingrained in him: dukes did not complain. Unfortunately, he would have preferred to complain all the time. “Lovely calm evening,” he stated.
“It’s always like this after a storm,” the captain replied.
“And always like this before a storm, too,” she said pertly.
“Right you are, Lady Derby,” the captain said chuckling. “Have you always liked sailing, then, madam?”
Roman nodded to the inn’s footman to open the door. “I would wager she likes it better than anything.”
“And why would you say that?” She eyed him from beneath her lashes. On any other woman it would have been coquettish. On her it seemed natural.
“You like it enough to go off alone. You didn’t depart London with a single other acquaintance, if I understood it correctly.” He paused. “Almost like you were running away.”
The night air was cool, still, and very clear.
“Of course not,” she said. “I do not like to bore others and I’m determined to do exactly what I would like to do on this trip. And I would rather someone else not bore me for the same reason.”
The captain looked between them as Roman and Lady Derby examined each other. “Pardon me, but I must have a word with Jem. Must find out how the repair is coming along.”
Neither said a word as the captain departed until finally she turned to face him. “How very lowering. I obviously bored the man to pieces. Like I said, it’s why I am traveling alone. Was it something I said?”
“Yes,” he answered instantly. “It was precisely what you said.”
“What did I say?”
“Well, if you can’t remember, March, I shan’t tell you. Why suffer embarrassment twice when we can just ignore the whole thing and keep walking. Toward the table.”
“What’s on the table that’s so fascinating?”
“Ummm, the spiked eel looks very good, no?”
She made a face. “No.”
“The filet of goat, then?”
“Ugh.” She wore an insufferably smug smile. “You’re looking at the ale.”
“Of course it’s the ale. I’m bloody thirsty.”
She turned serious. “But you promised.”
“I promised not to drink spirits, for some insane reason. I must have been rummy to the gills to make such a promise. But that is just ale—not spirits at all.” He nodded toward the tankards. “I must have been truly foxed to agree to something like that.”
“No. Just suffering the regret of the night before,” she replied.
He tugged at her arm. She willingly followed him to the relative privacy of the willow tree near the line of tables.
She examined him. “Tell me. Do you crave it?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Do you think about it all the time? My husband did, I think.”
He stood very still. Finally, he would know who Derby was. “And what happened to him?” he asked carefully.
“You did not know him? Hmmm. I would have thought you might have.”
He wished he had. It would allow him to know her better. “I’m not sure I did. The name is very familiar though.”
She blushed for some odd reason. “I’m not surprised.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But most of his friends deserted him in the end.”
“Why, that is deplorable. What did he do to deserve such treatment?” he encouraged.
“Surely you can guess.” She tilted her chin up. “He drank himself to death.”
It was hard to think of a response to such brutal honesty. He slowly replied, “I am sorry to hear it.”
“And I am not certain if I made his
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