into you.”
“What sense might that be? It’s a coldhearted thing you’ve done, bringing me here to serve at your wedding. No doubt to some army captain with shining medals for being shot on the field of glory.”
“He has been shot at. Stabbed a little too. But he’s not a captain. Nor in the army.” Cocking her head to the side, a light sprang to her eyes. Much bluer than the waters outside. “Look around, Barrett. Haven’t you figured it out by now?”
He glanced around the cabin. His small suitcase stood at the foot of the bed next to a more expensive case, while his comb and hair paste were laid out on the vanity next to a set of silver-handled brushes and a mirror. A cut-glass bottle of Doux parfum de Lilac glinted beside a vase filled with the purple flowers. Pivoting around, he noted his pajamas set out on the foot of the bed while an airy lace-capped nightgown floated from the wardrobe door.
His lungs constricted. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Probably, but then if I were sane I’d have stayed away from you long ago. Trouble is . . . I can’t. And I don’t want to.” Pushing away from the door, she stepped closer. “And neither do you.”
“What is it with you Whitfords and the constant need to bend everyone to your scheming whims? Thought you might have had enough of that from your father, but it looks like the acorn didn’t fall too far from the mighty oak.”
“Your ridiculous stubbornness has given me no other choice.”
“Except to kidnap me. Do you not find the slightest bit of irony in that?”
“If that’s how you wish to view it. But kidnapping usually involves an uncooperative party. I’m fairly certain that by this evening you’ll be more than willing.”
“Doubt your family will approve such relations with an ill-bred guttersnipe like me. Aren’t the Whitford girls subjected to walking bank notes with shiny buttons and a pedigree?”
“Ellie is too busy heading up a fallen women’s shelter in London to find a button of her own, and I’ve found shiny trimmings overrated.”
He shook his head, but the cobwebs tangled too thick. “It’ll never work. Too many obstacles.”
“Only the ones we’ve put there ourselves. Stupidly.” She spread her hands wide as earnestness shone from her eyes. “I let my pride ruin the best thing that could ever happen to me, and now I’m here. Asking you to take the rest of me back because you’ve already got my heart.”
“You called me a liar.”
“Another on my long list of errors. Hardly the last, I dare say.”
“You also accused me of lacking honor.”
“Look, if you’re going to keep tabs, then we’ve got a long life of payment ahead.” She took another step toward him. “I know you didn’t take the money.”
Every muscle stiffened in his body as her delicate lilac fragrance drifted to him. “I’m not the man for you. I work for a living with barely two shillings to rub together in my pocket. My clothes are worn, and my name lacks any kind of clout.”
She moved to him, circling her arms around his neck as a smile curved her full mouth. “You’re exactly the man for me.”
Her lips brushed his, spiraling wildfire in his blood. He jerked back. “No. Find someone else.”
He moved to the door, ready to break it down if necessary. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her, much less the same space of air.
Something hard hit the back of his head.
“Ow!” He spun around to find the silver-handled comb at his feet.
The brush in her hand was poised for striking. “Don’t make me clobber you with this one too. It was a birthday gift, and I’d rather not dent it on your hard head.”
“My hard head? I’m not the ridiculous one thinking that anything between us could work out. Look around you. I can’t afford any of this. We’d be in the galley peeling potatoes to afford wherever this boat is sailing to.”
Tossing the brush back on the vanity, she sighed and crossed her arms. “First of all, this is a ship. Second, this cabin is a wedding gift as we sail to America and our new life.”
Wedding gift. America. New life. He’d struggled so long to keep her out, but with every second she found a new crack to slip through. “I’ll be starting over on my own terms. When I do, it’ll be without a bride, and certainly without one I can’t support.”
“You will