Page 48 of A Modest Independence

“I don’t know. Probably camped outside the surgeon’s door and been completely unreasonable.” He smiled wryly. “It’s stifling in here. Will you let me take you up on the deck?”

It sounded a lovely idea, but… “I’d rather not see anyone else. I’m still not steady enough to manage polite conversation.”

“It’s after sunset. We’ll be quite alone.” He held out his hand. “Come. You can lean on me if you need. I won’t even require that you talk.”

“Oh, very well.” She slipped her hand into his. It fit there perfectly. As if it had been made to settle in the warm curve of his palm, to be held fast by the strong clasp of his fingers. Her heart thumped hard. “I have to dress first.”

Tom helped her to her feet. “Do you need assistance getting into your gown?”

There was nothing suggestive in the tenor of his voice. Nevertheless, Jenny felt the thrill of his question all the way to her toes. She pulled her hand free. “What I need is a few moments of privacy.”

A hint of a smile touched Tom’s mouth. “As you wish.” He retrieved his coat from the back of the chair. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Jenny watched him go, then made the speediest toilette of her life.

She rinsed her mouth in the basin and cleaned her teeth, raked a comb through her tangled tresses and bound them up in a hasty arrangement of plaits and pins, and—after a brief moment of indecision—slipped on her corset, closing the hooks with trembling fingers. There was no way to forego the dratted thing. Without it, none of her dresses would fit properly. Certainly not the fitted jacket bodice and skirt she chose.

When she was finished dressing, she swept up a shawl and exited her cabin, forgetting her gloves and bonnet in her haste. True to his word, Tom was waiting outside. He offered her his arm and Jenny took it gratefully. She wondered if she would ever become accustomed to the way the deck of the ship rolled beneath her feet. She braced for the motion to echo in her stomach, but—much to her relief—her tea and toast stayed down.

Tom led her up to the deck. The sea air was cold on her face, a delicious feeling after spending so much time in her cabin. It wasn’t dark yet. The sun was just sinking beyond the horizon, streaking the sky and the water below it in a dazzling array of oranges and reds. She stood at the rail, her arm still linked through his.

“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the endless prospect of the sea. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Nor have I.”

They watched the rest of the sunset in silence, saying nothing else to each other until it had slipped completely from view. Jenny heard the swell of far-off voices, the sounds of the crew shouting to each other, and passengers talking and laughing. She and Tom weren’t alone on the deck. It was impossible to be so on a ship of this size.

And yet, as they stood side by side at the rail, she had a sense of privacy. Of intimacy. As if they were the only two people on board.

Tom seemed to read her mind. “No one can see us here. Not now it’s dark.”

“It’s not that dark.” A full moon was coming up. It wouldn’t be long before it was shining, luminous in the sky above them, as bright as a line of oil lamps arrayed on the deck.

“No matter. There’s nothing untoward about a fellow standing at the rail with his sister.”

Jenny suppressed a grimace. She was beginning to hate that particular lie. “I don’t think I like being your sister.”

“No more than I like being your brother. But it’s a necessary fiction if we want to protect your reputation.” He nudged her. “What were your real brothers like? Were you fond of them?”

“If you must know, they were absolute pains in the backside.”

Tom was surprised into a bark of laughter.

“It’s true.” She let go of his arm, placing both of her hands on the railing. “They take after my father.”

His expression sobered. “They weren’t—”

“Drunkards? No. They weren’t bad men. They were just men. Selfish and dictatorial, never lifting a finger to look after themselves—or me.” She recalled the years she’d lived in her father’s house. All the time she’d spent praying that something would change. That someone would come and save her. “My brothers wanted to get away as much as I did. They had plans, you see. To marry and start families of their own. They expected I would stay at home forever, taking care of my father. It was my duty, they said.”

“Why yours and not their own?”

“Because I was an unmarried woman, and therefore, a burden on the family. To them, I was no more than a drudge. An unpaid housekeeper. They didn’t love me. Not like Giles loved Helena. I daresay I wasn’t very loveable.”

“And so you left.”

“Not without a plan, but yes. I wrote to Helena’s father, imposing on our tenuous familial connection to beg employment from him. He replied within the month, offering me a position as Helena’s companion. As soon as I had his letter in hand, I packed my case and boarded the next mail coach to London.” Pride rose within her at the memory of it. “One grows tired of waiting for knights in shining armor. Sometimes nothing will do but to rescue oneself.”