“Morley.”
The name was less an exclamation than a growl from behind Ellie’s shoulder. Henry broke the kiss, letting his lips linger on hers for a moment before raising his head. He lifted his chin in a movement carrying such defiance, it looked foreign on him. “Sir,” Henry said, his voice placid.
Her heart pounded out of control. How was he so calm? This person knew him, and had witnessed them in the salacious act, exactly what they had been trying to avoid. Henry did not relinquish his hold on her, and even craning her neck, Ellie could not discern the identity of the man speaking to him.
“What is the meaning of this?” The voice trembled with barely contained fury, and Ellie watched Henry’s face as the corner of his lip lifted the faintest bit.
“I suppose I’ve been caught.” Henry’s words dripped with nonchalance, every bit the careless rogue. “Are you surprised?”
“I shouldn’t be,” the man replied. “With all those rumors, the scandal sheets. Your father had me convinced your indiscretions were all in the past and you were ready to settle down.”
Ellie pushed against Henry’s hold as realization dawned.Oh no. No no no it can’t be—
“As you can see, I’m not suited for marriage, Mr. Brightling,” Henry said, as though he had practiced the words before. He relaxed his hold and she broke free, turning to face Henry’s future father-in-law.
The plump man glared, his navy waistcoat straining over his heaving chest beneath a tweed jacket. His face mottled crimson behind a bushy mustache that at some point had been blond. Piercing blue eyes connected with her, as though he could will her into dust with sheer disdain.
“Sir,” Ellie stammered, “I’m so sorry, I—”
“You should go,” Henry said, not breaking eye contact with Mr. Brightling, and Ellie felt as though the ship had disappeared beneath them, plunging her into the frigid water. She had served her purpose and had been dismissed. She blinked back the pooling tears before screwing up her courage and facing Henry once more.
The color drained from his face as his wide eyes stared over Mr. Brightling’s shoulder. Ellie regretted following his gaze when the young woman stepped to the gentleman’s side.
“Lord Morley.” She placed her hand against her chest as a smile spread across her lips. “What a pleasant surprise. I thought we wouldn’t see you until London.”
Over the past three years, Henry’s fiancée had taken on many forms in Ellie’s mind. At times, she was a perfect society lady, slim and striking, gracious and poised. Other times she was brittle and cruel, sometimes a seductive vixen.
This woman was not what she had expected. Miss Claire Brightling was of middling height, her slim figure hidden under a modest lilac dress. Her eyes were pale blue, almost eerily so, and wide-set in her pale face. Hair the color of straw was pinned back under a hat, held in place by a purple satin ribbon. On any other day, Ellie would not have noticed her, would have passed her by and forgotten her immediately.
Today, she was the woman who would break Ellie’s heart. No, on second thought, Henry had already taken care of that task for her.
Miss Brightling looked at Ellie with kind eyes, then turned to Henry expectantly. “Pardon me, have we been introduced?”
The light caught the woman’s hand, and Ellie’s eyes darted to the sapphire resting on her ring finger.She has a ring. His ring.Ellie glanced back to Henry, his arms now crossed casually across his chest, so loose she could see his left hand. Ellie’s gut twisted.
When had he taken his ring—their ring—off?
“I need to go,” Ellie said through clenched teeth, dragging herself away from the glowering Mr. Brightling and Miss Brightling’s bewildered stare. She cast one last glance at Henry, hoping against hope there was some explanation, some reason he would be so aloof. A reason for acting like he did not care about hurting so many people so deeply.
Unless it didn’t matter to him at all.
The door to their cabin swung open with enough force for it to bounce off the wall as Henry flew in. “Ellie?” he called, his voice bright. “Are you here?”
She sat up from her position on the floor, where she had been packing and repacking her belongings into her trunk. It had been nearly two hours since she left the miserable trio on the deck, falling into their stateroom and collapsing on the bed in heaving sobs. She had hoped Henry would return to her despondent, groveling at her feet, asking her for forgiveness and calling it all a horrific misunderstanding. But his current mood uprooted all the hope fighting to survive in her heart.
“It’s over, El.” Henry walked to the desk and withdrew a piece of paper, hastily scribbling across the page. “I met with Brightling just now. He’s surprisingly calm, given the situation. I suppose he expected this to happen, and Claire will be justified in tossing me over without tarnishing her reputation—”
“You planned this, didn’t you?” She hadn’t gotten up from her place on the floor, kneeling as though in prayer, although her spine was straight, laced with steel.
Henry turned to face her, his brow pleated as he tucked the paper back in his breast pocket. “Ellie, this is a good thing. You and I both know I would have been miserable.”
She released a low, mirthless laugh as she shook her head. “This was all a game to you, wasn’t it?”
He stepped close now and extended his hand to help her up, but she ignored it, rising to her feet on her own. She had always gotten back up without the help of others. “Did you know the Brightlings would be on this ship?”
His eyes widened as the color drained from his cheeks. “I didn’t know for certain,” he mumbled, each word cautious.
“But you knew seeing them was possible when you made the arrangements.” A fist wrapped around her throat, choking her. “When you kissed me on the deck, you knew he was there.”
