Page 23 of Murder on the SS Leviathan
But he wasn’t a common thief, was he? His tendencies were violent, and he’d attacked Mr. Robinson. Had the latter been more deeply asleep, or lacked the strength to defend himself…
A wave of nausea overtook her. With shaking hands she gripped the arm of the chaise for support.
When the Texan opened his eyes, there was something soft there, and she was reminded again that they were alone.
Alone, and wearing night clothes.
She made herself speak brightly. ‘Did you see him? The man?’
In reply, he only grimaced.
‘You must remember some detail.’
‘Besides having his fist in my eye, you mean?’ He gave a lopsided smile. ‘He was thickset. A bruiser of a man. As tall as me, maybe—and strong.’
‘You didn’t see his face?’ It was important, wasn’t it, to try and recall details as soon as possible, before one forgot.
‘Honestly, no. He wore dark clothing; everything about him was dark. I had my hands over his face at one point. It felt coarse, like puckered up leather.’
Cecile pondered a moment. ‘That might be significant. The captain will want to know. This man—whoever he is—must have killed the senhora, don’t you think?’
‘It seems likely.’ Letting out a long breath, Mr. Robinson rose from the chaise. ‘Look, it’s late. We ought to get you back to your room—and I’d suggest your brother doesn’t need to know you were here. Lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin' it back in.’
Cecile nodded and squared her shoulders. Of course, now he’d recovered his composure, he wanted her to leave.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve been imposing, asking questions when all you must want to do is go to bed.’
‘Bed does sound attractive.’ His lips quirked.
Going ahead to the door, he peered through the mist before allowing her to step out. ‘I’ll walk you back to your room; just in case.’
‘That’s hardly necessary, Mr. Robinson.’ Cecile was determined not to put him to any more bother when he should be resting. ‘The attack was cowardly, coming upon you while you were sleeping. I’m sure he’s long gone.’
‘Humour me.’ He pulled the door shut behind them. ‘And, while we’re about it, call me Lance. No point in my having such a good name if no one gets to use it.’ He gave her a wink.
When they reached her cabin, he checked both rooms of her suite before allowing her to lock her door.
His feet, still bare, made no sound on the deck as he returned to his own quarters but, through the wall, she heard the mattress as he climbed in.
