“Take me with you to India,” I blurted.
The words seemed to hang between us, suspended in the hush of the library. His eyes widened, searching my face as though he scarcely believed what I had said.
My heart thudded, yet once spoken, the words could not be taken back. I thought of how he had stood before my grandfather the night before, shielding me without hesitation. How he had shown mercy where others offered none. How he had looked at me not with censure or ridicule, but with something so tender.
“I meant what I said the other night, Kitty. I do love you,” he said at last, his voice husky.
The fire crackled low, and for a breathless moment we stood on the edge of something vast and terrifying, neither of us stepping back. His nearness was enough to make my knees weaken.
My hand slid from his chest to his sleeve, gripping it as though to anchor myself. I had been so certain of my independence, so determined to resist. Yet here I was, unable to deny what my heart had already chosen.
“I will marry you, Sebastian Sinclair,” I said. The words tumbled out in a rush, yet once spoken they settled over me with astonishing clarity.
His eyes closed briefly, as if in prayer, and when they opened again, the firelight caught them in brilliant reflection. He leaned his brow to mine, breathing me in, holding himself taut as though one more word might undo all restraint.
And for the first time in years, I felt the heavy yoke of fear shift. Not gone, but lifted enough for hope to seep in and chase away some of the gloom inside of me.
26:Kitty
There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.
JANE AUSTEN,EMMA
ONE WEEK LATER
SOMEWHERE IN THE ATLANTIC OCEAN
The ship groaned and creaked beneath me, its timbers straining against the relentless onslaught of the ocean, while the wind howled through the rigging, carrying the cries of sailors and the sharp snap of sails straining against their lines. I clung to the railing with a white-knuckled grip, my stomach churning as violently as the waves that crashed against the hull. The salty spray soaked my face and hair, but I barely noticed, too consumed by nausea and the hollow ache of homesickness.
A few days into our journey, and I wanted nothing more than to turn back and find the safety of my green England with its loamy soil that refused to budge, unlike the violent sheet of gray now constantly shifting beneath my feet.
The memory of my wedding played like a fragmented dream. My voice rasping as I repeated the vows. Sebastian placing the ring on myfinger during the hurried ceremony—so brief but for the bolt of electricity that shivered all the way to my slippered feet. Freddy’s tight embrace, her tears mingling with mine as we said one last goodbye. Edward, swallowing hard as he pulled me close.
Only Grandfather I avoided at the church and townhome, giving him neither a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, nor embrace, nor farewell. I would never forgive him.
The wedding and following preparations to leave London had all felt surreal, like stepping onto an opera stage where I was unsure of my lines, and every note was off pitch.
Now I was here, aboard this hulking wooden contraption bound for Calcutta. The waves rose and fell, each one threatening to pull me under, and I clung tighter to the rail, my knuckles aching as my feet threatened to slide across the slick deck. Unfortunately, the captain insisted we descend to the cramped quarters of theSeraphim, an East Indiaman merchant vessel. The only illumination came from a swaying oil lantern, and the sound of wood creaking filled the air.
I hated closed quarters more than I had expected, longing instead to see the vast horizon and smell the fresh air. If only the ship would stop heaving, and my stomach as well.
“Kitty!” Sebastian’s voice cut through the screeching wind whipping at the sailors and snapping the sails above me. He reached my side, his hair plastered to his forehead by the rain. “You can’t stay out here in the rain. You’ll make yourself miserable if you insist on being above deck. The captain says the storm will only increase in the hours to come. We must return to our cabin for safety.”
I shook my head weakly, unable to summon the strength for a proper argument. “I’m fine,” I croaked, though the words felt like a lie even as I spoke them. My knees buckled, and before I could stop him, Sebastian wrapped an arm about my waist. Returning to a claustrophobic cabin felt more torturous than the waves.
“Fine, are you? You appear green at the gills with all this churning.” His tone was laced with concern, but his hold was firm. I had not heard a frustrated word from him yet ... until now.
A monstrous foaming wave drew shouts from the sailors as they screamed for their mates to hold on while brackish water sprayed against us. I didn’t have the energy to protest as Sebastian dragged me belowdecks, his boots thudding hollow on the narrow stairs.
The air inside our cabin was heavy with the scents of brine and damp wood, and two lanterns cast feeble shadows on the hewn walls. The space was small—far too intimate, really—with barely enough room for the two of us to maneuver without brushing or bumping against each other. A narrow bunk lay tucked against one wall, the only supposed comfort in an otherwise utilitarian room containing our trunks, along with a single stool. But I experienced no comfort in that bed, pressed against Sebastian’s warm form at night, hearing the soft rise and fall of his chest as he slept. How he slept, I didn’t know.
I’d had no mother to prepare me for the intimacies of marriage. Aunt had retreated, never having married herself. Yet even in my innocence, I had certain expectations. Sebastian left me mostly alone, beyond the occasional fleeting touch. One night, he’d thrown an arm around my waist as he mumbled something in his sleep, tugging me flush against him.
More disturbing, I heard him utter another name one night. One that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. A woman’s name. French.Celeste.In other words, star.
I’d frozen at that name. Was she the famed opera singer? Did my husband long for her?
As the ship climbed the waves, my stomach clenched tighter. Sebastian set me down on the edge of the bunk, his hands lingering for a moment on my shoulders as if to steady me.
