Page 37 of A Siren for the Duke

“Fresh milk is a luxury we cannot to keep aboard. Sometimes we have cattle in the pen below deck, but not this journey. We might get some on the way back, though.”

The idea that she would have to disembark in Jamaica and leave him was upsetting. These last few weeks had been lovely, and she would miss the fondness they’d rekindled.

“How much longer until we reach Jamaica?” she asked, suddenly quite solemn as her gaze fixated on a loose thread in the blanket.

“The storm put us off course by a couple days, but hopefully soon. I reckon four or so days.”

“That’s not a lot of time,” she mused aloud.

Lionel shifted to look at her.

“Do you... want more time aboard ship?”

Realizing her mistake, her cheeks reddened.

“I... I don’t know. I suppose I’ve just become accustomed to the rhythm of life here.”

“I understand,” he said softly. “Still, it is rather a liability to have a woman aboard.”

“I thought we were through with this conversation,” she said with annoyance.

“I trust my crew,” Lionel said. “But if we were attacked, your fate as a woman would be much worse than any of ours.”

That, at least, was true. She shuddered to think of what would happen if they were attacked by pirates, even though there not half as many as in the past.

“Did I ever tell you why I left?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Lionel held her gaze with his blue eyes, stars shining in them.

“No, but perhaps you could tell me if you want,” he urged.

She took a deep breath, trying to think of the best way to tell the story.

“When I returned home that night after we said our goodbyes, my mother was waiting for me in my bedroom. I had no choice but to tell her the truth about where I had been. Unfortunately, one of the servants up to light the fires must have heard us talking and shortly thereafter the scandal broke and our story became public. The ton shunned me and it also had repercussions on Sophia. Then, when I never received any of your letters, Ferdinand and my mother did not hesitate to thrust me to the mercy of the ton. I attended ball after ball, dinner after dinner, party after party. They were very eager to find me a husband.”

Lionel’s hand found hers as she spoke, and a thrill ran through her body at the contact. He said nothing, so she continued to speak.

“They eventually promised me to the Marquess of Kingsbury. I didn’t like him at all, but after the scandal broke, Mama was simply happy that someone with a title wanted to marry me. She said it was the best I was going to get.”

“Why didn’t you like him?” Lionel asked.

“Well, he wasn’t you,” she said ruefully. “And... I felt as if I were a piece of meat and he was a hungry dog. His hands were always sweaty. His eyes lingered. I felt like I was suffocating when I was around him. I was supposed to marry him the day after I boarded your ship.”

“Ellis was going on and on about some great lady of the ton who ran away at her wedding, and no one could find her. For a bit, we wondered whether it was you—he’ll be happy to hear his suspicions confirmed.”

“Glad I can be a source of amusement,” she said dryly.

It was quiet again for some time, but not awkward. They’d known each other for years; they were well past the time for awkwardness. The moon, a glowing crescent, cast a gentle radiance upon them as they sat on the makeshift picnic blanket, their eyes fixed upon the ethereal canvas above. It was not unlike the many stolen nights they’d spent together at the beach.

Jemima's eyes were wide with wonder as she gazed at the heavens. The night sky stretched out before her like an infinite tapestry adorned with myriad sparkling jewels. Each star twinkled with an intensity that seemed to rival her beating heart, its light piercing through the darkness and painting the surroundings with a delicate glow. The storm, with all its ferocity, had washed away the impurities of the atmosphere, leaving behind a pristine clarity that allowed the stars to shine brighter than ever before. Jemima marveled at the sight, her breath catching in her throat. It was as if the celestial luminaries had come alive, dancing in a grand performance solely for her eyes to behold.

A gentle breeze swept through Jemima's hair, carrying a faint scent of brine. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the touch of the wind against her skin, before turning her attention back to the stars. She had always been captivated by their beauty, but she had never seen them quite like this, away from the bustling streets of England.

"They shine brighter at sea," Lionel's voice broke the silence, his tone soft and filled with a hint of reverence.” When we're away from the crowded areas, the stars reveal their true radiance."

Jemima's gaze shifted to Lionel, and a small smile curved her lips. His face was illuminated by the moon's gentle glow, his eyes reflecting the awe that mirrored her own. At that moment, it felt as if they were the only two souls in existence, surrounded by an ocean of stars.

"Yes," Jemima whispered, her voice barely audible above the hushed night. "It's... it's breathtaking."