Page 49 of Murder on the SS Leviathan
19
Lucrezia opened the door to the Texan a full half hour before noon.
’Mr. Robinson, such a pleasure. As you see, our dear Cecile is yet to return from visiting her sister-in-law. No doubt, they are discussing the wedding, and are quite carried away. You shall not mind, I hope, being spun along like the top on the string while the ladies plan the details. Most men find it a relief, I believe, to simply turn up to make their conjugal promises.’
His startled expression was just as she’d hoped, but he made a heroic job of recovering himself. ‘I can see why Cecile enjoys your company, Miss di Cavour. You’re a jester.’
‘You do not believe me? Well, perhaps I exaggerate a little.’ She gave him one of her more dazzling smiles and invited him to a chair. ‘You have made the declaration of love, I assume?’
Lounging back in the seat, he folded one leg over the other at the knee, his expression wry. ‘I do believe you’re fishing.’
‘And my hook is not far from the fish, I see. Is it today you make an offer?’
He slapped his thigh, giving a bark of laughter. ‘I like you, Miss di Cavour. You’ve a good, no nonsense way of speaking.’
‘Do call me Lucrezia. After all, we shall be spending a great deal more time together, shall we not?’ Rather than take a seat herself, she moved to stand beside him. ‘Cecile is such a sweet girl, and devoted to me.’
He paused, clearly giving consideration to her words. ’I’ve a great respect for her and, yes, I intend to make known my feelings. If she’ll have me, I believe the captain has the authority to make us husband and wife. As to our plans thereafter, that’s a matter for discussion.’
‘Then, I am sure we will make the arrangements to ensure the happiness of all three of us.’ Looking down at him, Lucrezia could see why Cecile’s head had been turned. He’d been sculpted in the style of those gods of old—all muscle and angled jaw. Even his hair, dark gold and curling at his nape, reminded one of Apollo. ‘Cecile and I are the best of friends and have already had the “discussion”, as you put it. You see there is no need to make difficult choices. Marry your angel, Mr. Robinson, and take another into the bargain.’
This was the moment he would show his true colours. He had only to speak words of assent. Even words were not essential. She would know by the way he looked at her. Always, there was a certain glint in a man’s eye, demonstrating what he was thinking.
She would make this simple for him.
Better for Cecile to find out now, how effortlessly he can be tempted. It will hurt her, yes; but it will be a kindness in the end. Eventually, she will understand, and forgive.
She will thank me for steering her from this mistake.
Lucrezia leaned, so that he would feel the pressure against his leg.
Immediately, he stiffened. Though he was reclined in the armchair, she felt him drawing back. His knee he could not easily move, for she had him pinned between herself and the small table.
This being the case, he stood.
‘There’s been a misunderstanding, Miss di Cavour. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not going to happen.’
So, he would not bite as readily as she’d anticipated? As yet, it meant nothing. A little persuasion would be all.
‘And what do I think is going to happen, Mr. Robinson?’ She was still standing close. With deft fingers she unfastened the buttons of her peplum jacket. The shirtwaister beneath was of muslin and lace, the collar a high ruffle on her neck but the fabric almost transparent. Beneath, she wore neither camisole nor corset.
The result was arresting: her breasts clearly visible through the fine weave.
She was aware of his eyes upon her, though he said nothing.
She lifted his hand, placing it upon the warm curve of her body. The pad of his index finger she touched to her nipple, pressed to the taut cloth.
At once, he jerked back his arm, swearing damnation—though whether upon himself or her she couldn’t have said. Both perhaps.
‘You see how easy it is?’ Looking up at him, she gave a cunning smile. ‘Don’t you want to touch again? Or would you prefer I touch you?’ Extending her hand, she placed it against his trousers. His cock, though not as aroused as she had anticipated, was nonetheless prominent.
He swore again, stumbling against the chair behind.
‘Adjust your clothing and get ahold of yourself.’ There was nothing amused in his expression now. Rather, he was all suppressed anger, battling to remain civil.
‘I should rather you got hold of me, Mr. Robinson.’ She drew her hand upward, slowly, from her waist. Reaching her breast, she captured the nub between two fingers, letting it harden for him to see. ‘Wouldn’t you like to try?’
By Lucrezia’s calculation, Cecile should be returning at any moment.
