Always practical, his Georgie. And she was right. He nodded against her hand.
“Let’s look, then.”
FOUR
The search needed to be done, but it was also a mindless task, and Georgiana desperately needed the time to think on everything that Thom had told her.
Her husband was such a good man. A far more fascinating man than she’d realized. And knowing why he’d stayed away left Georgiana ashamed and angry at herself now.
She had asked him to hold her in his arms every night. Of course, she hadn’t meant it so literally—and the important part hadn’t been his arms, but that he would be there every night.
She’d been so thoughtless. Cruelly and selfishly so. Why had she never imagined how such words might sound to a man whose arms had been replaced with iron? And she’d never explained what she’d meant, or why it mattered, so that he wouldn’t mistake her meaning. She hadn’t told him of her mother. Why had she assumed that he would know exactly what she’d wanted? As if it had been his responsibility to perfectly interpret her every thought and desire.
Oh, and this was the very worst time to think about whose fault it was that her marriage had fallen apart. What did any of it matter if they didn’t survive this? She had to be clever and focus on their escape, not think of the past.
She had to be clever. Even a few days ago, Georgiana would have said she was. Also sensible and intelligent. Her lack of understanding of the man she’d married dealt a shattering blow to that belief. Her gaze had been so limited and narrow. Searching the horizon for his ship, but never seeing anything but herself.
With a heavy sigh, she pulled open the final drawer in the writing desk. Nothing there. Either wealthy people didn’t keep anything that could be used as a weapon in their staterooms, or this cabin had already been cleared out.
Holding the mattress angled up with one hand, Thom turned away from his examination of the bed frame. “Nothing?”
“No. If I were more clever, I would know how to make an escape balloon with the lamp and the skirts cut from my dresses. I’d sew them together and we’d fly off.”
“I’ll be glad to take a ride under your skirts, Georgie.”
“Thom!” So outrageous. And wonderful. She blushed and laughed, shaking her head.
His response was a grin that she felt down to her toes. A man of few words, but he didn’t need many. He could lift her from sorrow and shame with the widening of his mouth and a laughing flash of his teeth.
Why had he never teased her in such a bold way before? Was this new—or another part of him that he’d hidden? Wherever it stemmed from, she hoped he would continue. Forever, if possible. But forever could only happen if they escaped.
And after they did, Georgiana was determined to win her husband back.
If she could. He’d wanted to stay—but he’d intended to leave her, anyway. He’d thought himself a failure as a husband. That hadn’t changed. He probably still intended to leave; and maybe he would. But whether he stayed or left, Georgiana would do everything she could to prove that he hadn’t failed at anything.
Thom let the mattress flop back to the frame. “There’s nothing here, either. But looking at you, I don’t doubt we’ll figure out something.”
Her determination must have been apparent on her face. As well it should. She was determined to get through this.
Her gaze fell to his arms. Thom and she weren’t completely without weapons. And Thom wore gloves, sleeves. Lord Pinchpenny probably knew of the prosthetics, but he likely didn’t know that they weren’t the typical skeletal sort, or what was hidden beneath.
Even she didn’t completely know. “But you have a gun?”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“Anything I might need underwater or hauling sail alone. A diving knife. Cables. Grapples. Clamps.”
All useful, but Georgiana’s mind couldn’t work past the initial part. “Hauling sail alone? What of your crew?”
Not a large crew. Just two other men. If their trip into town had gone as planned, Thom would have given their names to the magistrate, listing them lost at sea—though they might both still be on Oriana. A pirate would kill a captain, but he needed someone to sail a stolen ship.
Thom shook his head. “About two years ago, I rigged her so that I could handle her alone. With no crew to pay, I could send more of my earnings to you.”
And he’d thought that amount wasn’t a lot, but it must have cost him so much more than the money he’d sent. The past two years, as alone on his boat as she’d been at home—but sailing and diving were far more dangerous. Anything could have happened to him and there’d have been no one to help.
Her heart twisted. She could have changed that. She’d sent out messages to Thom when her mother and father had died. Not knowing where he was, she’d sent them to towns and harbors where she knew he’d been. But when he hadn’t replied, she hadn’t tried again.