His eyes danced at that, but he didn’t quite smile.
She didn’t want him anywhere near her, didn’t want that well of heat to grow in her belly. She had only seen him unclothed for an instant in dim lighting; how was it that her mind retained the distinct image of the hairs on his abdomen, black against the brown of his skin, dusting the edge of his trousers?
“Well then.” She nodded. “I’ll be off.” She didn’t move.
He sighed. “You’re not marrying Mr. Flappert, are you? Not that it’s any of my business. But I would find that to be personally annoying.”
I never thought I would have to be considering the feelings of a little Chinese girl.
Her mouth twisted. “No.” She shut her eyes. “I could not have done that.”
“It got worse when you went back.” The captain nodded as he spoke. He didn’t say what it was; he said it as if her entire morning were laid out before him. As if he had been standing on the stairs next to her that morning and had overheard that little snippet. She felt tears prick at her eyes.
She stared at the ship docked next to this one in lieu of looking at him. The vessel was painted in some nondescript gray all over save for a Swedish flag. “I don’t think I have the strength to marry him,” she said instead. “Not if he’s like his mother in any respect. And since she is the one who came rather than him, he may very well be worse.”
“You’ve made it all this way,” he said beside her, his voice soft and gentle. “They haven’t managed to break the part of you that is kind and curious and inquisitive. I don’t think they could.”
She swiped at the corners of her eyes because tears made no sense. It hadn’t meant anything, that exchange she’d overheard. It hadn’t. It was just one woman she would never see again; she’d forget about it in a day or two. It wouldn’t mean a thing.
“Oh,” she said quietly. “I think they could.”
“Yet you’ve decided not to come with me. A pity.”
She had come here to tell him no. To stand strong against his offers. Ruthless, her brother had called him, and she’d expected an onslaught of argument. She hadn’t expected nothing.
She glanced over at him. The morning sun caught the planes of his face, painting it in orange and gold. King’s colors, she thought wildly and looked away. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say? I had expected you to…” She wasn’t sure. “Blackmail me? Or something. Leland said you were ruthless.”
“On the contrary. If you’ll pay attention, you’ll see that I am being extraordinarily ruthless indeed.”
“Are you?” She frowned skeptically. “You are being very understanding.”
“You want me to explain all my secrets, do you?”
Secrets. Her mind went momentarily not to extortion or threats, but to those loose, clinging trousers. She flushed hot. He smiled at her, and that smile seemed to shoot up her spine.
“I don’t have to threaten you to put you under threat.” His eyes met hers, deep and understanding. “During the past civil war, my youngest brother lived in England, surrounded by white people. I know what your threats look like. You are so accustomed to them that more won’t move you.”
That statement punched the air out of her lungs. I didn’t think I would have to be considering the feelings of a little Chinese girl.
The rude ones—the ones who called her names and the like—she could dismiss. But Mrs. Flappert had come here intending to marry Amelia to her son. Even under those circumstances, Amelia’s feelings had been irrelevant.
“From what I gather, you came up with a Chinese version of a telegraphic code because—”
“An incomplete version,” she found herself compelled to add. “Very incomplete.”
He just nodded at this addition. “You started to come up with a Chinese version of a telegraphic code because it was fun. Because you enjoyed it—enjoyed the challenge, enjoyed imagining what might result if you were successful.”
She nodded.
“And you think I’m not ruthless.” He shook his head, smiling. “If you don’t accept my offer, you’re going to have to go from spending your life doing something you find wildly interesting back to that house you just came from. Please understand: you are making this decision under extreme duress. I’m just not the one applying it.”
Amelia’s mother had made matters entirely clear. If she took employment under him, she would never marry.
She thought of the five years of her marriage—of trying and trying to make her husband happy. She had succeeded. But after the second year of her marriage, she’d realized that his marital bliss did not make hers any more likely. She’d begun to resent his felicity, unaccompanied as it was by a similar feeling on her own part.
He had accepted what she did for him as a matter of natural consequence, as if her providing what he needed followed as surely as water flowing from high ground. He had not once considered what she might want. He hadn’t considered her feelings. He hadn’t considered them at all.
She could hear her mother’s voice from last night. If you take employment, you’ll never marry. Men won’t want that in a wife.
That was what awaited her if she stayed: another man. Not Mr. Flappert, but another man. The next man might be kinder about it. His mother might be more circumspect. He might come himself instead of sending a proxy.
If you take employment, you’ll never marry. Men won’t want that in a wife. If Amelia had any sort of moral sensibility, the idea should repel her.
Instead, some part of her stirred in anticipation. She could provide for herself, and she wouldn’t have to deal with another husband? It seemed like a double bonus. Captain Hunter had arrived at this very moment, offering her the very thing she hadn’t realized she wanted. There had to be some kind of a catch.
Her teeth ached with wanting. Amelia turned away from him to look back at the docks. “I’m not sure.”
“Aren’t you?”
Her wants lurked beneath the surface. Large, she reminded herself. Vicious. Rows and rows of massive, pointy teeth.
She needed to resist. But why?
She lifted her eyes to his face—to the slant of his nose, the tilt of his mouth. Sun seemed to glitter off his skin, highlighting the brown planes of his face.
Amelia sucked in a breath, all her responses suddenly making sense. The rapid beating of her heart. The way her eyes sought him. The telltale lift of her spirits when she contemplated the offer. All of it came together into one picture, and she realized that there was a catch. An enormous catch.
She could feel his gaze like a heated caress, sweeping over her from head to toe. She felt conscious of every inch of her skin, from the hollow of her neck down the swell of her corseted breasts past her belly.
“Oh no.” She took a step back. “I’m attracted to you.”
He stood rooted in place as those unruly words actually came out of her mouth instead of staying in her brain like good thoughts. God, Amelia, she wanted to moan. Why had she said that out loud?
She had done embarrassing things before. She was used to doing them. This was, however, quite possibly the most disconcerting, distressing, discombobulating truth she had ever blurted out in a panic.