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“Here,” he said and took a step away from her.

Heavens, conceiving a baby with this woman would be the easiest task ever. He didn’t know how he would ever be able to keep his hands away from her.

“Ah, here’s Minotaur and Titan,” she muttered, “sailed to France two days later. But Concord, Hector, and Aeneas shipped to America the very next day!”

“It could be any of the five,” he said. “What are the names of the captains?”

“White for Minotaur, Lawson for Titan, Dean for Concord, Ross for Hector, and Barker for Aeneas. One of those captains might have Spencer on their ship. Is there a list of sailors?”

“The most accurate list of sailors is kept in the captain’s log,” said Nathaniel. “But it may also be in the Navy Board as they keep personnel records for payment. We might find something there. I know just the man to talk to.”

The man to talk to was Officer Bartholomew. He had no leverage on Bartholomew, though, who was notorious for his strict discipline and tough character.

Hughes came back. “Have you found what you were looking for?”

“Quite,” said Nathaniel. “Thanks, Hughes. My warm greetings to your family.”

As they walked out of the room, Nathaniel’s inner vision filled with the memory of a moonlit night in the woods, his mother’s body lying on dark grass, blood flowing from the bullet hole in her chest. Their rich carriage stood nearby, horses snorting softly, three-year-old Hazel’s pale face peering from the carriage window. Poppy and Violet were inside, still babies.

He imagined Calliope like that. Dead and cold, blood oozing.

Because he wouldn’t be able to protect her, like he couldn’t protect his mother.

He knew he needed to act fast and act alone. The sooner he knew Calliope was out of danger, the better he would sleep at night.

But as he glanced at her determined profile walking at his side, the sense of unease grew stronger in his bones. How would he be able to keep her out of danger when she was so determined to jump right into it?

Perhaps he’d bought more than he bargained for with this woman.

10

Three days later…

“I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

The Bishop of London’s words had Nathaniel’s stomach squeezing in a mixture of anticipation, excitement, and anger. With the bishop being the Seatons’ family friend, the special license had been arranged in three days.

His chest felt too tight for his heart, which jumped around like a wild thing. As the salon of Sumhall erupted in cheers and claps behind him and Calliope, he turned to her.

God knew how much he despised the idea of having a wife. Over the years, he’d gone to desperate measures to avoid succumbing to his father’s will and binding himself to someone.

And especially not to father a child.

But here she stood, his wife.

Beautiful and fierce, with her big blue eyes framed with long eyelashes, a pretty blush on her cheeks, and her auburn hair swept up, yellow irises framing her curly chignon. She wore a gown of an intense yellow color, as though the sun itself shone upon him. They were a striking combination, her in glowing yellow and him in his dark navy uniform, as though he were absorbing all the light that came from her.

Someone so delicate, so precious was now his responsibility. How could he ensure this woman and their future child would be safe? And he still needed to make sure of the same for his sisters.

Cold dread rolled down his spine as he and Calliope turned to their guests, facing the Seatons, their friends the Duke of Loxchester and his wife, and his three sisters. Even the damned cat was there in the dowager’s arms. Everyone clapped as he and Calliope walked down the aisle, between the guests.

As yellow petals showered over them, the most delightful laughter came from Calliope’s throat.

He must be losing his mind, but his heart did something, a warm lurch of some kind, and he felt a strange buzz as though full of bees. He grasped her hand, and they walked through the passageway that their families and friends created together. A shock of something wonderful shot through their fingers, just as when he’d held her as they’d danced at the ball. And as he held her in his arms just a few days ago in the Admiralty, so close he could kiss her.

They passed through into the dining room, where light spilled through tall windows, dressed with heavy brocade curtains—a rich shade of burgundy trimmed with intricate golden embroidery. Walls in a warm Mediterranean terra-cotta color were adorned with gilt-framed landscapes depicting the rolling Spanish countryside. Ornate candelabra cast a warm glow, illuminating the beautifully arranged table settings.

Soft music was played by a small chamber orchestra, and laughter and lively conversation filled the air as the guests went to their seats.