Miles Before I Sleep (16 page)

Andrea laughed. “Or at least one with small thumbs so I don’t have to cut his meat.”

Miles laughed as well.

Andrea liked the sound of his laughter. It was genuine and loud and it filled the room with happiness.

Andrea suddenly sobered. “Miles, what am I going to do?”

His smile faded into a sympathetic grin. “I suppose if you married before your parents caught up with you, your problems would be solved.”

“I had come to that same realization. But whom shall I marry?”

Andrea sat back in her chair, knowing the man she wanted to ask was the one man she could not. He would have to offer himself to her of his own accord. She knew it would destroy his friendship with Rory and she could not ask him to make that sacrifice. He must do it of his own volition. When he realized he sacrificed his friendship, she did not want him to blame her.

Andrea bit her lip, waiting and hoping that he would offer himself.

Miles stared at her waiting for her to ask. He had made it clear, he was attracted to her and yet she sat in the chair biting her lip as if waiting for him.

“Would you like me to introduce you to some of the unmarried passengers?”

When Andrea felt the lump in her throat, she automatically pushed herself forward in the chair, erecting her carriage. “Thank you, Miles. That would be quite helpful.”

Miles would have had to be blind not to have seen her reaction. He should have expected it. Despite their conversation, he did not think she had believed him about making love. Men still frightened her—and after being attacked by Clyde Sully, how could she help it?

Hoping to distract her, Miles reached across, cut off a piece of her veal, and ate it just to see what she would do. “What you need to do, is to find a man who has his own money and doesn’t need your father’s.”

“Even rich men’s eyes light up at the thought of my inheritance.”

Andrea reached over to his plate, cut off a bite of chicken and ate it. “Oh, that’s really good. What do you call it? I think I’d like to order it sometime.”

“I’ve been wishing I ordered the veal since I saw yours. Do you want to switch plates?”

Andrea’s whole face lit up. “Could we?”

“I see no one here to judge us.”

Andrea and Miles switched plates and continued their meal.

“If I’m to invite eligible men to dine with us, I suppose you should tell me what you like and don’t like.”

Her head tilted sideways as she considered it. “I never really thought about it.”

“We know you don’t like pudgy redheads. Or is it Irishmen you hate?”

“Your cousin is more American than Irish,” she pointed out.

“So you hate Americans.”

“I don’t hate Americans. I don’t really know any, accept you, and I don’t hate you.”

“But an Englishmen would be preferred—one with the title, I suppose.”

Andrea shrugged. “Yes, I suppose I would prefer that.”

“How old?”

“He should be out of school—preferably someone who is already established.”

Miles picked up his glass and took a drink while she spoke. “Absolutely. He has to have enough money to support you in case your father disinherits you.”

Andrea’s eyes grew wide. The possibility never occurred to her.

“Don’t worry, the men who can afford a cabin on this ship, can usually afford a wife.”

“But not too old either under thirty-five would be better than over. My father is forty-eight. I really wouldn’t want to be married to anyone that old.”

“No, I wouldn’t dream of looking for anyone that old for you, unless they were incredibly rich, had a great personality and were on the verge of croaking….”

“Oh, no, people would say horrible things about me. Besides I don’t want to be alone the rest of my life either.”

“I’ll mark Richard off my list.”

Andrea gasped. How could he consider marrying her off to one of his relatives and an ill one at that? She looked into his eyes and a slow grin crossed his handsome countenance. Her stomach clenched a peculiar way, making her look down at her food as she wondered if there was something wrong with her dish.

“I was just jesting, Andi. What else?”

Andrea had given little thought to a future husband’s attributes. “I don’t know. I suppose I should just trust your judgment.”

As they finished eating, Miles noticed she had not touched the bread pudding or olives. He picked up an olive and popped it in his mouth. After a minute, he stepped to the porthole.

“No!” she gasped, when she realized what he intended to do.

Making sure there was no one below, he spit the pit out the window. “Oh, sorry about that,” he called out the opening.

He turned, giving her a mischievous grin.

She looked mortified, covering her mouth with one hand. Suddenly, she giggled. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He held the bowl of olives out to her. “You want to try? I bet with a little practice you could spit them all the way into the water.”

“I couldn’t.”

Miles put a black olive in his mouth and held one to her lips. She hesitated a moment but eventually gave in.

“Now, the trick is to send it flying with a hard burst of breath at a forty five degree angle. Don’t let your cheeks poof out.” After a quick glance below, Miles let it fly. “Right in the ocean. Your turn.”

Andrea spoke a few token protests before he got her to step up to the window. She looked around and spit, but it landed on the deck below. Andrea ducked down afraid someone would see her. “I can’t believe I did that!” she said laughing.

Miles placed another olive at her lips. When she took it between her teeth, he gave her a quick kiss.

“That was wonderful for a first try,” he said, squirreling the little stone in his cheek. “Come here and stand behind me. Reach around me and put one hand on my diaphragm and the other on my rib cage.”

Again, Andrea hesitated.

“I’m not trying to seduce you, Andi. This is purely instructional. If you’d like, we can have the guards come in and chaperone.”

“Purely instructional?”

“Absolutely. I have no ulterior motives.”

Reluctantly, Andrea closed the gap. She allowed him to place her trembling hands on his torso. Even through his shirtwaist, she could feel the firmness of his stomach.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

A moment later, his ribs filled with air and she felt his abdomen constrict as he spat the pit.

She instantly stepped away from him.

He noticed the blush on her cheeks. Her skin was so fair that the color in her face was quite becoming. As tempting as it was to kiss her again, he had promised that he had no ulterior motives so he tried to ignore his impulses.

“It’s your turn.”

She stepped up to the porthole and he moved up behind her.

“May I?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her without touching her.

“Purely instructional?”

“Of course.”

He put both hands on her abdomen. “I may know what the problem is. Your corset may be keeping you from taking a deep enough breath.”

Andrea dismissed the idea immediately, “Two years ago, I might have agreed with you, but this corset is not really tight at all. My mother wanted me to get down to a twenty-two inch waist, but I kept fainting when my waist was still twenty-four inches. Papa put his foot down and would not let me cinch my waist tighter than twenty-eight inches. He burned all of my smaller corsets and dresses and told the seamstress she would not be paid for any dress with a waist smaller than twenty-eight inches. Mama was so mad she did not talk to him for a week.”

She was talking unusually fast, but didn’t know if she should credit it to his hands on her waist, or all this talk about her undergarments. Either way, she was thankful she was facing away from him.

He leaned in and said quietly in her ear, “Remind me to thank your father. I prefer a more natural waist.”

Andrea felt as if she couldn’t breathe, and covered his hands with hers. His hands were warm and firm against her stomach. His touch both frightened her and made her core feel strangely giddy.

“You can do it,” he encouraged. “Breathe deep.”

After taking a deep breath, the olive pit flew from her mouth and sailed in an arch into the sea.

“I did it! I actually did it!” she cried, turning in his arms.

She embraced him without any conscious thought as if she did that sort of thing all the time. She didn’t know who was more surprised.

As she suddenly realized what she was doing, she pulled away slightly and looked into his face to see if he was shocked or angry that she had taken such liberties. A wide smile graced his handsome face. His hand moved to her cheek. Andrea stretched her neck, her heels lifting off the ground until her lips met his.

His long fingers moved from the side of her face to the back of her neck, but he resisted the urge to deepen the kiss or pull her against him. He cursed Lillian James and vowed he would do nothing that would frighten her. He wanted her curiosity to set the pace of her foray into love.

Changing the angle of his neck, Miles’s mouth moved against hers lightly, languidly. As she responded, so did his body and he pulled away before his lustful urges took him too far. His breath was coming fast. He looked into her face as her eyes fluttered open. He had to make sure she wasn’t scared or embarrassed or any of the other things that might be going through her head.

“I guess we have two things in common now. We can both spit an olive pit at least ten feet and we like kissing each other.”

Her cheeks darkened prettily and she lifted her hand in front of her mouth. “That’s so embarrassing. Do we have to mention it out loud?”

“Which one?”

Andrea laughed and shook her head.

She was so beautiful like that and Miles wondered if she found reason to laugh often. Her wide smile was infectious and he just wanted to kiss her again.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said abruptly, feeling the room was suddenly too small. “Maybe you can point out a few men you’d like to meet. Get a wrap and I’ll my go to my room and change out of this waiter’s jacket.”

As Miles crossed the room, Andrea called to him. “Wait,” she said, carrying the olive bowl to him. “Take the last one.”

Miles tentatively reached toward the last olive, knowing it wasn’t polite to take the last one. Should he suggest she take it? No, if she wanted it, she would have eaten it after he left, and not offered it to him. He plucked it up and threw it in his mouth. Before he could thank her, she put the bowl to her lips and drank the ounce of brine pooled in the bottom of the bowl.

It was at that moment, Miles not only knew he was madly in love with her, he also knew he was the man meant for her. Other men would not try to break through her icy exterior to find the playful woman inside. They would not care that her mother had intentionally scared her to keep her chaste, nor would they take the time to make her comfortable so her first encounter would not be a self-fulfilling horrible experience.

When she set the bowl down, he gave her a lingering peck, lightly licking her upper lip. “Delicious,” he murmured tasting the salty brine on her lip.

20

Once they were out strolling around the deck, Miles convinced Andrea to come with him to the main saloon to see if there were any festivities happening. The room was large and opulently appointed with several sitting areas, a grand piano in the far corner and tables for playing cards. Most people, however, chose to stand so they could circulate.

Andrea hesitated upon seeing the large crowd. “I-I don’t want to go in.”

“How am I going to know whom to invite to dine with us, if you don’t point out a few men you’d like to meet?” Miles said, turning to face her.

“Are people talking about what happened with Clyde Scully?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I’m sure some people have seen your door. But I think it’s important that you show everyone you’re all right.”

Andrea’s posture became rigid. “I’m sorry. I had not thought about the impact this could have on your business.”

Miles’s brow lowered. “This has nothing to do with business. Frankly, on the rare occasions when we have had these incidents on our ships, it was nearly always a drunken passenger, not a crewman. I only meant people are bound to worry that you were injured, and will be relieved to see that you were mostly unhurt.”

Andrea drew her bottom lip between her teeth, then released it knowing her mother would correct the action had she witnessed it.

“I-I’m nervous about what people are going to say. Do you think they’ll feel it was my fault?” she asked.

Miles gazed compassionately into her wide eyes, wishing the right words would come to his mind to waylay her fears. He wished he could say no one would think such a thing, but in truth, some people, when they learned she was unescorted, might say unkind things.

“I don’t know, Andi. But I’m going to be by your side and if you want to leave, just give my arm a firm squeeze, and I’ll make our excuses. Take a deep breath.”

He gently gripped the hand she had wrapped around his arm and he noticed how closely she was drawn up to his side. For a moment, he thought about returning her to her room. He knew, unless things did not go well, after it was over, she would be glad to have her first public ventures out of the way. The fear of the unknown was probably worse than anything she would actually face.

“Look,” he said. “There’s Levi. Shall we go say hello?”

Since he had not bothered finding her a chaperone yet, Miles would have normally avoided Captain Bloodworthy. But because she had already spoken with him once after the incident, he assumed she would feel less awkward conversing with him than anyone else in the room.

“Levi!” Miles called in a friendly tone.

“Miles, Miss James,” Levi Bloodworthy greeted warmly. “And how’s our little stowaway tonight?”

“I’d hardly call Andrea a stowaway. She paid for her passage after all.”

“Quite right, I beg your pardon, Miss James.”

“No apology necessary, Captain,” Andrea said politely, wondering if she should beg his forgiveness for the trouble she had caused.

The captain cast a glance over their shoulders looking for a chaperone. “And the chaperone?” he asked suspiciously.

“Turns out, the woman tippled,” Miles lied smoothly. “I shall search again tomorrow.”

“Indeed.” The captain’s tone was dry. “Is that true, Miss James?”

“Sir, considering who my father is, I would never contradict the owner of any vessel I was aboard.”

They were saved from further questioning by the purser who was standing on a chair addressing the group.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to play another little getting acquainted game. If I can have all of the men line up on the port side of the saloon and all of the ladies on the starboard.”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Miles said to Captain Bloodworthy. As he led Andrea away, he leaned closer and spoke in her ear. “I’m not an enthusiast of these games, but I’m also not fond of getting lectured.”

“The object of the game,” the purser said, handing out papers and pencils to each person, “is to match your answer with one person from the other side of the room and no one else. Whomever you match has to walk around the deck with you. Since we have fewer women than men, each woman will reveal her answer and if only one man has the same answer, then they are paired off.”

Andrea cast a wide-eyed stare at Miles. He could tell she did not want to walk around the deck with anyone.

“The first category is color. Write your favorite color on the paper—shades do not count. Just put green not
jade
or
emerald
.”

The first round was a bust. There were too few choices and too many people. The only ones who had no matches were Miles for writing brown and Andrea for her choice of white.

Three couples paired off in the next round, but no one matched Miles with his favorite vegetable, pumpkin or Andrea’s, rhubarb.

The purser crossed the room to Andrea. “Rhubarb?”

“It’s a vegetable,” she protested shyly.

“Why rhubarb?”

“I have and affinity for sweets. There aren’t many vegetables you can make into a pie,” she answered quietly, her cheeks red with embarrassment at being the center of attention.

The room laughed at her explanation, making her even more self-conscious. Her eyes met Miles’s and seeing his reassuring smile and nod, she felt herself begin to relax.

One by one, the women were paired off with companions until Andrea was the sole woman across the room from eleven men including Miles.

The purser thought he had a category that was sure to match her.

“Favorite dessert.”

Three men wrote rhubarb pie, others wrote apple pie or Italian ice. Miles wrote bread pudding. Andrea wrote peaches in cream.

The purser stepped up to her and asked in a gentle voice, “May I ask your name?”

“Andrea James.”

The man sighed and said to her in a theatrical whisper, “Miss James, you may have to fib in order to match one of the men.”

“I thought the point of the game was to be paired with someone with whom I have something in common. If I lied….”

Two of the men groaned making her aware that the men were bored with the game. A few of the early-paired couples were beginning to filter back into the saloon.

“Have we done favorite fruit yet?” the young man asked. “No, I don’t believe we have. Everyone write down your favorite fruit.”

Miles met Andrea’s gaze before she began writing.

“All right. Let’s start with the gentlemen first.”

“Apple.”

“Peach.”

“Raisin.”

“Pear.”

“Peach,” the fifth man said, giving the second man a dirty look.

“Cherry.”

“Lemon,” the seventh man said making many of the others laugh.

“Watermelon.”

“Pineapple.”

“Banana.”

Then they came to Miles who grinned at her widely. “Olive!” he exclaimed.

Andrea started to get excited, but quickly looked down at her paper. She had written olive originally, but changed it to apple when she thought about the story Miles told her about stealing apple pies.

The purser peered over his glasses as he read the paper in her hand. “You’re not going to believe this. Miss James wrote down olive and changed it to apple.”

The purser looked at Miles. “Mr. Huntington, how does it feel to have the most beautiful woman, still in the game, slip through your fingers like that?”

As he watched the winner walk up to Andrea, Miles resisted the urge to completely dismiss the results and find some other way to compensate the winner.

“Are you sure it’s legal to change your answer?”

Some of the men laughed, but most were already leaving to pursue other entertainments.

She cast a shy smile at Miles before turning her attention to the man whom she had matched. The man crossed the room in long strides. He was only a couple of inches taller than Andrea, but quite well turned out in a finely tailored red wool frock coat. He wore his brown hair trimmed and appeared to have recently decided to grow mutton chop sideburns.

The man made a shallow bow and introduced himself as Sir Judah Paulson. He immediately held out his arm to her. “Shall we?”

Andrea nodded and placed her hand on his forearm. As he led her out the door, she spared a final glance at Miles. He nodded and smiled politely.

“You said your name is Andrea James?” he asked. “Your name seems very familiar, but I can’t quite place it.”

Andrea suspected he knew exactly who she was, but she supposed he was trying to find out if she wanted to admit it.

“My name has been in the papers recently.”

“Oh, the young lady with the big reward.”

She dipped her head in a shallow nod. “But I’m afraid you are too late if you should wish to collect the reward. Mr. Huntington has already sent word to my father where I am.”

“I shudder to think your opinion of me is already so low. The only reward I seek is this stroll around the deck in your company.”

Andrea pulled her shoulders back, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, Sir Judah.”

The man smiled rakishly at her. “I merely jested. That is, unless you wish to pay a boon for the offense, in which case, you have torn my heart asunder.”

Andrea removed her hand from his arm. “I fear I am unable to pay a boon on a heart torn asunder, for surely such a grave offense requires a truly high price.”

“Indeed,” he said, still grinning at her.

Andrea continued walking, but did not return her hand to his arm.

“I have not seen you out much—in fact, I believe this evening was the first time I saw you in the main saloon.”

“I have spent most of my time in my cabin.”

“Then perhaps I should fill you in on the scuttlebutt. It is said that one of the sailors was flogged in the middle of the night.”

Andrea swallowed convulsively, her spine stiffening automatically. “I am already aware.”

“Everyone is speculating at his offense. I suspect he was caught looting a cabin, but no one can confirm it was his or her cabin. Some say he argued with a passenger, or fought with another sailor in front of the passengers. While others have said there was a broken door on one of the passenger cabins with two burly sailors now guarding that door.”

“I’m sure whatever happened, that man will think twice before trying it again.”

“I know for certain he shall never try it again. The wretched soul has succumbed to his injuries.”

Andrea gasped, stopping dead in her tracks. “H-how do you know that?”

“I was playing cards with an acquaintance and lost track of time. When I realized I was missing dinner, I hurried to the dining room, only to see the seamen having a service for him on deck whilst the passengers were all feasting on their meals.”

Andrea felt the blood drain from her face and reached her hand to the railing as her head began to swim. “I-I don’t feel well. Excuse me,” she murmured as she bolted away from him.

“Miss James, wait. I will walk you to your cabin.”

But she didn’t stop to wait for him. She blindly made her way up the companionway until she was at the top tier where she could access the corridor to her stateroom.

Judah Paulson watched her back for about five seconds before he decided propriety dictated he should walk her to her room. Although he managed to eat up some of the ground between them, he wasn’t able to catch up completely. He stepped into the corridor just as she disappeared into a doorway, flanked by two large sailors. As soon as the men saw him, they moved to block the door completely.

“I’m sorry, sir, this corridor is restricted. Only those with staterooms on this deck are allowed here.”

“I just wanted to make sure she’s all right.”

“She’s under the owner’s protection. You’ll need his approval to visit her.”

Judah noticed the mismatched wood around the doorframe and quickly understood that it had been her door, which had been broken. He nodded to the men and departed, meeting Miles on the companionway. “Tell Miss James I’m sorry,” he said in passing. “I didn’t know.”

Miles swore as he moved past him, taking the stairs two at a time. The sailors moved apart as he approached. He lightly knocked on the door.

“Andrea, it’s me.”

“Just a moment.”

Inside, Andrea wiped the tears from her face and blew her nose. When she opened the door, Miles thought her demeanor was as rigid as glass and just as fragile.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think to send word that I was retiring for the evening.” She stood in the doorway blocking him from entering.

“Andrea, I was near enough to hear what he said.”

“You were following us?”

“Chaperoning, if you would rather.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Clyde Sully?”

One of her guards glanced in her direction when she mentioned her dead attacker. Miles took her hand and gently pulled her out of her room toward his suite.