But there was no Nick, and no stallion.
He wasn’t coming.
Of course he wasn’t coming. This wasn’t a romance. It was an adventure story. The intrepid heroine sets off for a lifetime of adventure on the high seas and in foreign climes.
Throwing everything away for some man, even if that man was Nick, wasn’t an option.
“Come below when you’re ready, Lady Hatherly,” Captain Lear said as he left. “It’s starting to rain. Yours is the first cabin to the left.”
A drop slid off her bonnet brim and hit her cheek.
Still no black stallion hurtling down the pier.
Sailors moving, shouting, huge ropes being untied, anchors lifted.
Alice dashed tears from her eyes.
It was ridiculous to stand here and wait for something that would never happen.
She lifted the lid of Kali’s basket. “I was rather hoping he might come after us, Kali,” she whispered.
Kali stared at her indignantly, more than ready to be released from her wicker prison.
Suddenly Alice glanced up, staring at the docks.
They were receding from view.
The ship had begun to move.
And her final hope died.
Her heart plummeting, Alice descended the ladder.
First cabin to the left. She opened the door and stopped abruptly, her heart pounding.
There was a man in her room.
Lounging in the very center of the bed.
Nick.
He was reading a book. Not just any book. He was reading the novel she’d left behind.
“What took you so long?” Nick grinned. “I’ve been waiting for ages. This is really quite a good book upon a second read. Though I don’t much like that Caroline Bingley. Bit of a witch. And that arrogant Darcy. Who does he think he is?”
The sight of Nick lying in her bed had rendered her temporarily mute.
He was so beautiful.
And so unexpected.
Her heart expanded like the sails of the ship catching in the wind.
“Nick, what are you doing here?”
“I’m one step ahead of you, Alice. For the very first time. And probably the last.”
“How did you arrive before me?”
“I rode Anvil. I told him I had to be early this time, instead of late.”
“But . . .”
“Lear somehow created that obstruction in the road so that your carriage would be delayed. I’ve no idea how he does these things, but he does. Worked like magic. Are you going to stand there gaping?”
His eyes lost their teasing edge. “If you want me to leave I’d better go and tell Lear to turn this ship back, I believe we’ve already begun to move.”
“But the duke . . .” Alice said. She seemed to only be able to manage sentence fragments. Very uncharacteristic of her.
“He’s in the ship’s orchid conservatory, happily making an inventory of his new blooms. I was the one who was afraid to leave London, not my father. I clung to the idea that he needed Sunderland when really it was me who was too afraid to leave.”
“This ship has an orchid conservatory?”
“To store the orchids Lear will hunt for his wealthy investors.”
“You don’t like ships. You said you’d never set foot on one again.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Come here and I’ll tell you, Dimples.” He patted the bed beside him. “We’ll talk this through in comfort.”
Kali yowled in her basket, and Alice hastily set her down and opened the lid. Her cat hopped free of the basket in one leap and jumped onto the bed, flopping down beside Nick.
Nick propped himself up on one elbow to scratch behind Kali’s ears.
He wasn’t wearing a coat. Or a cravat.
“Do you have breeches on under those covers?” Alice asked suspiciously.
“Come and find out,” Nick said, with a wicked grin.
Alice snorted. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Married beneath you. Now come here, Dimples. I have an apology to make.”
Nick’s heart beat swiftly as he waited for Alice to say something . . . do something.
Why did she just stand there, watching him? Why wasn’t she already in his arms?
Maybe he hadn’t completely thought through the no-trousers thing. He wanted to go to her, take her in his arms, but he needed her to make this decision without any physical persuasion on his part.
Alice closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, they shimmered with tears. “Nick,” she said, her voice faltering. “You can’t uproot your whole life to follow me across the globe.”
“What life? I was living for empty pleasures, stumbling moment to moment. Living in fear.”
“But what of the report for Parliament?”
“Coleman’s behind bars and the Yellow House is in his son’s hands now. Patrick tells me the lad has a kind heart and has already made vast improvements.”