Keeping Faith (Fair Cyprians of London 3)

“Come on, Faith.” Lady Vernon ignored him. “I’m going to lock you in your cabin now where you can expect a visit from Lord Harkom as soon as he’s feeling up to you. As for you, Mr Westaway,” she shot him a look as if unsure what to do, then shrugged. “I daresay I can’t order you to your cabin, and these sailors apparently won’t take orders from any but their captain, so enjoy your view of the high seas. I’ll be glad when land is sighted. Like Lord Harkom, I was not made for boat travel.”

There was only so long that Crispin could spend in the biting wind. When he went in, he tried Faith’s door, but it was securely bolted. He tried Lord Harkom’s door and found that similarly bolted from the inside. However, instead of the silence that had greeted him when he’d knocked lightly for Faith, he could hear retching and a drawn-out groan from the other side.

On the quarterdeck, he located the bosunthe only crew member who could speak English it appearedand asked him if Lord Harkom was in need of assistance.

“Like the ol’ woman, the seas ain’t the thing fer ’igh-born stomachs. All ‘e needs is ter put ‘is two flat feet on summat that doesn’t move.”

“Is Lord Harkom so seasick?”

The bosun sniggered. “Can’t drag ‘imself from ‘is bunk.”

“And how is the young lady who is locked in her room supposed to eat her dinner?”

“I’ll take summat to ’er. The gennulman gave me orders ter see she were well attended.”

“If his lordship is so indisposed, perhaps you’d allow her some fresh air at the same time she takes some refreshment.”

“I can do that fer ‘er if it’s worth me while.” The bosun offered him a gap-toothed grin, and Crispin obligingly dug into his pocket and withdrew a pound note. The bosun’s eyes grew large. “She can ‘ave all the time an’ all the vittels she wants, sir,” he said, taking the note with a shifty glance to ensure he’d not been observed by any of his fellows.

Crispin went to his bunk and lay down.

He presumed they were not going to dock within the next few hours, perhaps longer. And it had been a very long day already. But how could he sleep after Lady Vernon’s ominous words?

Lord Harkom was involved in the white slave trade, and Faith was his next victim.

He’d learned that she’d been ready to consume a vial of poison and kill herself only a few hours before. What might she contemplate doing now? The thought terrified him, but he was powerless to help her. Yet again, he’d failed her.

Despite his best efforts, sleep claimed him at last, and when he woke at the sound of his door being slowly opened, he was refreshed enough to have a weapon ready. The candlestick was clutched in his right fist, and Lord Harkom was going to receive the full force of a hefty blow until, in the darkness, he heard Faith’s tentative voice.

“Crispin. Can I slide in next to you? There’s not much room, is there?”

Her words sounded so ridiculous under the circumstances that he laughed as he drew aside the covers and brought her close against his side.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and he stroked her face, staring into the darkness.

“The bosun forgot to bolt the door when he took me my food.” She laughed. “Can you believe that?”

“I can.”

“Of course, it was you, wasn’t it? And here I am.” She snuggled in closer and hooked one thigh over his, partly to stop from falling out of bed, he supposed, while a tremor of longing shook him to the bone.

“And Lord Harkom is terribly indisposed. He hasn’t left his stateroom since he spoke to us.” She sighed. “Maybe he’s afraid of being accosted by you, Crispin.”

“A terrifying proposition.” Crispin felt his inadequacy. “Harkom is a champion pugilist, and I’m hardly fighting material. No, he knows he holds the upper hand. As soon as his strength returns, he’ll carry on as he pleases.” He began to stroke her cheek. It was soft and smooth, but also hot to the touch. In the darkness, he imagined its flush of colour. He’d have liked to have been able to see her. He was a painter, after all. But simply touching her filled him with a deep peacefulness. “He may also choose to stay in his room because he realises he’s miscalculated. He’s on a boat that wasn’t prearranged for nefarious dealings. The crew will answer only to the captain, and the captain has no interest in breaking the law. Harkom realises this, I think.”

“Then we could enlist the captain’s help?”

“I’ve tried. The captain says his orders are to take us to Rotterdam, and that’s all he’ll do. He’s not taking sides.

“Will you kiss me, Crispin?”

“It might be dangerous.”

“I like danger.”

He found her lips easily in the dark. She’d been waiting for him, and she drew him into the kiss with a light hand upon his cheek.

He’d not been exaggerating when he’d voiced concern about the danger. The simple touch of his lips against hers ignited him from within. The feel of her breasts pressing against him, harder with each rising breath, became a conflagration that threatened to consume him.