Page 87 of Cocky August Rake

The sun was beginning to set when The Domus carriage drew up to an almost empty-looking shipyard.

The Phantom Gale was no longer in dry dock, but bobbed idly a short distance out on the river. The mast towered unwavering and skeletons of the sail etched sharply against the fading sky.

Nell had sent word earlier that Rose was bringing an urgent message for the captain. Someone had passed it along to Mr. Dyer, and one of The Gale’s smaller boats now waited at the river stairs. Two sailors sat at the oars. A third held the boat steady against the steps.

“Miss Darling?” the man asked.

Rose nodded.

“Captain Preston approved your visit. Mr. Dyer said we were to bring you straight out.”

Rose drew in a shuddering breath. With three men waiting on her, she forced herself to nod, then placed her trembling hand in the sailor’s and stepped into the small craft.

It dipped beneath her weight, bobbing and shifting on the dark water. Rose caught herself as the hull rocked, while the river lapped softly against its sides.

Moments later, the oars dipped in, and the boat pulled away from the docks—unsteady beneath her, much as she felt herself.

Carrying her toward the ship.

Toward the only man she had ever wanted to be completely honest with.

The man she intended to deceive.

So intent on everything that could go wrong, Rose hardly noticed how far they had traveled until a shadow fell across the small boat. She looked up.

The Phantom Gale towered above them.

And as she tilted her head back farther, she saw Reginald, standing at the rail.

He wore only shirtsleeves and a waistcoat, his dark hair tossed by the river breeze in that careless way she had grown so fond of.

Even from below, Rose felt the full weight of his attention.

He knew she was coming. He’d be waiting for her answer.

The realization sent a sharp flutter through her stomach.

But there was no time for that as the sailors drew the boat alongside the much larger vessel. A rope dropped from above, and one of the men caught it, pulling them snug against the ship. A narrow ladder had been lowered over the side as well, two stout ropes strung through at least a dozen wooden slats. It swayed slightly with the movement of the vessel on the water.

Rose stared up at it, wide eyed. The prospect of boarding had been far less daunting from shore.

“Take your time, miss,” the sailor beside her said. “She’ll move beneath you, but we have you.”

He steadied Rose as she stood, gathering her skirts in one hand and gripping the rope with the other. The boat rocked beneath her feet, and her breath caught.

Then Reginald appeared at the top of the ladder, the loose hair around his face dangling toward her as he looked straight down.

“Just a few steps, Rose.”

More than a few, actually.

The little boat tapped against the side of The Phantom Gale, waves slapping between them. It seemed somewhat silly to worry about now, but she’d never actually climbed a ladder like this before. Nor did she know how to swim.

Something she would have considered if she⁠—

Well, it only mattered for now.

Gripping the ropes, Rose tested the first rung with the toe of her slipper.