She could stay the path. Put the thought of her brother and her sister behind her, and join Lady Allen as a companion, free to pursue her own interests, including being Leo’s mistress.
Is that really what you want?
For the first time in longer than she could remember, Saffron considered herself as others saw her.
Strange. Fidgety. Unmarriageable.
But that wasn’t right. She’d facilitated an important event despite a near stream of disruptions. She’d earned the trust of Leo’s household staff. She’d explored her passions with a willing man and fallen in love.
With so many successes under her belt, why should she care what society thought of her?
A heavy weight seemed to slip from her shoulders, and she spun around, ready to return to the auction. She would remain at Leo’s side, married or not.
That was when she saw the ship.
It sat in the bay, a silver chain draped over the edge, anchoring it. There was something about it that was so familiar, and as she rose and approached, her brows rose.
It was black, with a line of white near the top and a hint of red beneath the waves. Her heart stuttered. The figurehead was a man with a curling beard holding a round shield in one arm and a sword in the other, facing forward as if charging into battle.
It was the boat from the painting.
She picked up her pace, her heart pounding in her ears. Was it possible that the dowager was wrong, that Basil had survived the wreck?
She halted at the edge of the waterfront before she accidentally tumbled in and drowned. She had to be sure it was the same boat. She searched for a dinghy that she could use, while thinking she was mad for even considering such a thing. She didn’t know whose boat it was. She had no proof that ithad anything to do with her brother. But something inside her insisted she needed to get on the boat.
She followed the waterline, her eyes scouting the rocky shore, looking for a dinghy someone had left behind. Instead, she found a fisherman loading his tools into a small boat close to shore.
“Sir!” Saffron cried.
The man turned toward her, tilting his hat back from his head. “Aye, lady?”
Before she could answer, arms closed around her from behind, crushing her back against a heaving chest.
“There you are,” Leo said, breathlessly. “Thank God.”
Her earlier concerns forgotten, Saffron struggled out of his arms, then pointed to the boat. “Look! It’s the same as the painting. How is that possible? Your mother said it crashed.”
“It’s just a ship, Saffron. Many of them look similar.”
Why couldn’t he understand? Even if it wasn’t the same boat, she had to know. If she didn’t find out, it would haunt her dreams, the possibility that Basil had been there, and she’d dismissed it.
Leo cupped her cheeks in his hands, then touched their foreheads together. “This is important to you?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded small and far away.
“Then it’s important to me.”
He released her, handed over a handful of heavy golden coins to the fisherman, then swooped down and picked her up in one smooth motion.
She squirmed in his grip. “W-What are you doing?”
Leo shuffled her in his arms then began walking toward the boat. His boots sank deep in the sludge with a loud, sucking sound.
Saffron’s cheeks heated. She flexed her feet in her thin slippers. “Oh.”
“You would never have made it,” Leo said as he struggled through the deep mud. “Not without ruining that dress.”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t care about the dress.”
