Page 40 of A Siren for the Duke

"Must it be at this ungodly hour? And can’t I have a moment to dress?”

"Time is of the essence," Lionel retorted, his voice stern but tinged with a touch of mischief. “Put on a dressing gown and follow me.”

Jemima's irritation melted away as she caught the glimmer of something familiar in his eyes. Lionel's passionate spirit had always been a double-edged sword, capable of setting her ablaze or cutting her to the core. With a resigned huff, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, slipping her feet into her delicate satin slippers.

"Fine. Lead the way. But know that I shall take a double portion of coffee this morning for the interruption.”

She was surprised to see that he had no retort. Perhaps this was important.

As they ascended the wooden staircase to the upper deck, Jemima couldn't help but steal glances at Lionel, his broad shoulders and determined stride exuding an air of command that had always captivated her. Her heart fluttered at the thought of what lay ahead. Reaching the open expanse of the upper deck, Jemima squinted against the golden rays of the rising sun, her eyes searching for the grand spectacle Lionel had promised. And then, he pointed.

"There, Jemima! Behold," he proclaimed with a triumphant flourish.

Jemima followed his outstretched arm and gasped, her breath catching in her throat. The sea came alive before her, a tapestry of sparkling blue and frothy white, as a pod of graceful dolphins danced in the ship's wake. Their sleek bodies arched and dipped, seemingly choreographed to an invisible melody, as they leaped and twirled with exuberant grace.

Never before had Jemima laid eyes on such a sight. It was as if the sea had revealed its most enchanting secret, unraveling a masterpiece of nature just for her. She watched, spellbound, as the dolphins raced alongside the ship, their gentle clicks and whistles carrying through the crisp ocean air.

Lionel, his gaze fixed on Jemima rather than on the sea creatures, couldn't help but grin at the wonder etched across her face.

"You like them, I take it?" he asked, his voice laced with satisfaction.

Jemima tore her gaze away from the dolphins, her eyes meeting Lionel's in awe and affection.

"Like them?" she replied, a playful glint in her eyes. "Why, Lionel, you've just managed to make me fall in love with the sea all over again."

Unspoken words hung between them again. She could very well not have said “the sea” and replaced it with a second-person pronoun. Thinking he would pounce on the opportunity, she braced herself for some teasing. But Lionel’s eyes only glimmered for a moment before he steered the conversation a different way.

“Well... do not become too attached. Do you know what the presence of dolphins means?”

Jemima shook her head.

“It means we are relatively close to land. Dolphins are social beings and they feed on fish that do not venture too far out. We’re very near Jamaica.”

She did not expect her heart to sink quite so low when he told her. All this time, she was so eager to get away from England and start a new life in Jamaica with her aunt. But now that she’d been forced to be in such close proximity to the man she once loved, and perhaps still did, she had different feelings about it. Lionel seemed to notice her crestfallen look rather quickly.

“You are not jumping for joy,” he observed.

Jemima shook as if shrugging off a cloak.

“I... I’m simply surprised that this was a quick journey. I always thought sailing all the way across the Atlantic would take a long time.”

“It took us longer than normal for we hit two storms. But we knew that would be a risk as we’re sailing into the Caribbean during hurricane season.”

“I suppose I am nervous. What if my aunt is not there? Or if she refuses to let me stay with her?”

Lionel clasped his hands behind his back and sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“Well, then, you will have two options. The first is to return to England with us and face your angry family, the ton, and the Marquess. The second is to join the oldest profession in the entire world.”

Jemima looked at him, utterly bewildered.

“I do not follow.”

He leaned in close, so close that his lips ghosted the shell of her ear, and whispered, “Prostitution.”

Shocked and horrified, she shoved him away indignantly as he laughed.

“Lionel Hunt, I cannot believe you would say such a thing!”