Page 39 of Murder on the SS Leviathan
‘I’ll be travelling into the wilds, devoting every hour to pursuing my mission. I won’t subject those I care for to a life of discomfort or uncertainty, nor deprive them of my attention. Growing up, my Pa didn’t pay much mind to myself or my sisters—or my Ma, come to that; too busy building his empire.’ Lance cleared his throat. ‘I’ve my own ideas about what’ll work better.’
She believed it. He would devote himself to his family as unfailingly as he committed himself to his work—but could anyone live to such a schedule, deciding the exact time they were ready to give their heart?
Cecile frowned. ‘It gets tiring, don’t you think, holding to a perfect vision of what one’s future should look like. I’m sure your wife—whoever that might turn out to be—won’t expect life to be without obstacles.’
‘My wife sounds very understanding.’
The heat rushed to her cheeks. What had possessed her to begin this conversation!
‘None of us are faultless, and I don’t believe the adage that love is blind, but it’s easier to muddle through if there’s respect and compassion, don’t you think?’
‘Absolutely. Though this wife of mine will be pleased to know I don’t have any faults.’
Cecile’s gaze darted upwards. ‘And humility and modesty among your most commendable attributes.’
He laughed throatily at that. ‘Touché.’
Moving around the table, he came to sit on the wing of the armchair, his long legs stretched before him. ‘And what of your own ambitions? You seem in no rush to stand before the altar.’
Had he phrased the question differently, she might have given him a different answer. As it was, she’d no wish to play the coquette. Better to speak honestly.
‘I have my brother’s protection, and Lucrezia for companionship. I’ve been fortunate in seeing much of Europe, but there’s a great deal more I want to experience. I hope not to be bored.’
He tapped his heel upon the rug. ‘Some people do help us learn about ourselves, don’t they? Places too.’
‘You could put it that way.’
Scogliera for instance. She’d learnt more than she cared to there—about some things. And she was learning a great deal here, too; not least that life was fragile. Who knew what tomorrow held… Wasn’t it a waste to hold back from what her heart told her it desired? Too soon, they would arrive in Rio and he would travel onward to Buenos Aires. They would likely never meet again or, when they did, Lance would have married, having found the woman he wished to spend his life with.
Her chance would be gone.
'Of course, when one meets someone special, it can feel like the best thing to do is to stand still.' She stepped forward, close enough that her skirts were touching his knees. 'Perhaps, the most exciting discovery of all is to find the person who makes even mundane days feel thrilling.'
'There hasn't been a whole heap of mundane going on lately, but I know what you mean.' He reached out, placing his hands either side of her waist. 'There's a wide, wide world out there, filled with more wonders than we'll ever see--but it's the small, everyday sort of things I want to share with the person I love.'
That word.
Cecile looked into his eyes--so honest and open. She'd always wondered what it truly was, to be in love. Lance was like Lucrezia in many ways: brave and outspoken. Except that what he wanted to attain went beyond himself. He would accomplish more than most men dreamed of, but there was nothing conceited in him, nor jealous. He would take as much delight in hearing of another man's accomplishments as telling of his own.
He was a man worthy of loving.
‘Cecile.’ He breathed her name, and there was suddenly no more space between them.
His mouth, so warm, settled on hers, and she sank into the pressure of his lips, parting to his tongue. Instinctively, she leaned into the hard planes of his chest, giving a small gasp of pleasure as he tightened his embrace.
His hands moved from her waist to her hips, then to cup the softness of her behind, and she did nothing to stop him. Desire flared, and she yielded willingly.
She wanted to be touched; for him to touch her.
This was passion, and she was lost, beyond reason, knowing only that she was ravenous for more.
* * *
A rap upon the door obliged them to jump apart.
Lance looked as breathless as she felt.
Cecile’s heart was pounding. Stepping back, she steadied herself against the table. She hardly had time to gather herself before her brother and the captain entered. Her first thought was that Henry would know, simply from looking at her, what had passed between herself and Lance. Her lips felt bruised, swollen.
