When Justina woke the next morning, it was to find the ship pitching up and down in a most disconcerting manner. Several of her possessions, instead of staying where she had left them, were rolling around on the floor.
After a little, in fact, she realised that she found the pitching and tossing exhilarating and she did not feel in the least seasick.
She drew back the curtain from the porthole. Rain lashed at the thick glass. Through it could be seen dark grey tossing waves of foam-flecked water.
Then she remembered her humiliation of the night before.
Her face burned as the moment came back to her when she realised what a mistake she had made. If it had not been for Lord Castleton’s intervention, she would have felt an outcast.
He had been so kind.
She had a delightful feeling in her breast as she thought of his tall, aristocratic figure and the kind way he had spoken to her. She would have to tell her father when she wrote to him that they had met.
Then there had been Sir Thomas. What a good-looking man! And he had made her feel so attractive.
He had told her she was beautiful!
It was the first time anyone had said that to her. He had been almost too attentive.
Suddenly the door to her cabin crashed open.
Justina clutched the bedclothes to her chest half expecting it to be Sir Thomas.
But instead it was her Stewardess, Mrs. Grange.
“Good morning, miss. How are you feeling?”
“I am fine, but I don’t know about the ship.”
“It’s only the Bay of Biscay, miss,” Mrs. Grange informed her, holding onto the door frame. “Known for tossing us around a little.”
“A little?”
“We’ve sailed through much worse than this. Now, I can bring you rolls, some orange juice and a bottle of water or beer for breakfast, but if you want coffee, I’m afraid you’ll have to go to the Saloon.”
The thought of hot coffee was enticing and Justina said she would dress and have breakfast in the Saloon.
She put on the woollen skirt and jacket that Dorcas had so despised, thinking how sensible she had been to bring them.
Just as she was leaving her cabin, Mrs. Grange appeared again.
“Message from Mrs. Arbuthnot, miss. Presents her apologies. She and the Miss Arbuthnots are laid right low. Asks if your maid could exercise her little dog.”
Justina brightened.
She dismissed the idea of Dorcas walking their dog as she would be in a worse state than the Arbuthnots, but it would be a delightful activity for herself. She sent a message back to tell Mrs. Arbuthnot not to worry about Muffin.
The Dining Saloon was almost empty.
The Steward asked Justina if she would like to sit at the long table. At the far end were two young men tucking into plates of bacon and eggs.
Much further down the table was an elderly man reading a newspaper over toast and coffee. He had long sideburns and a large bald patch.
She went to sit beside him and he smiled at her.
“I like to see a young gel with sea legs. Come for a chota hazri, have you?”
“Chota hazri?”
“A little breakfast. Or perhaps a large one?”
“I’ve just learned my first Indian words!”
“That’s the way! Many of the Indian servants don’t speak English and you will need to learn at least some simple phrases if you are to get on with them.”
The elderly man introduced himself as Frank Wright.
“Travelling back to Bombay. I am afraid the wife is suffering from mal de mer, as it seems are most of the passengers.”
“I am Justina Mansell. Do you know India well?”
“Lived most of my life there – in the Indian Civil Service.”
She was delighted to meet someone else who could tell more her about India and she passed an enjoyable breakfast learning about the difficulties of organising the Indian Empire.
At the end of the meal she asked Mr. Wright how she could find where a dog would be kennelled for the voyage.
Instantly he clicked his fingers for the Steward and soon Justina received directions on how to reach the upper deck.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Mr. Wright asked her. “It’s blowing a bit out there.”
She smiled and said she would be fine on her own.
“I expect Mrs. Wright needs you to see how she’s getting on and I have to check on my maid.” Then added hastily, “and Mrs. Arbuthnot and her daughters, of course.”
“Of course.”
Justina went immediately to check on Dorcas. Her maid’s cabin was now fully occupied with moaning and groaning women. Dorcas, though, seemed worse than them.
It was a relief to leave the airless and foetid cabin. Justina thought if she had stayed any longer in there, she would begin to feel seasick herself!
The Arbuthnots’ cabin was not much better.
She told them not to worry about the dog and escaped as soon as she could.
She put on an outer coat and found her way to the upper deck where the kennels were kept. Once in the fresh air, she breathed deeply and tried to forget the poor souls who had succumbed to seasickness.
There were four kennels secured near one of the funnels, but only two were occupied. A terrific barking from a large dog greeted her as she arrived, but the little terrier was silent.
She lay with her nose between outstretched legs and looked miserable.
A Steward gave her a lead and opened the kennel. She reached in and picked up the dog. As Justina lifted her, she could feel her shivering badly, but it did not stop her licking her face in welcome.
“Come on now, let’s go for a bit of a run.”
Justina soothed the small animal and soon the shivering stopped. She attached the lead and, hanging onto the railings, took Muffin round the upper deck a couple of times. She trotted through the rain beside her happily enough.
But when she was taken back to the kennel, the shivering started again and she uttered little whimpers of distress.
Justina hated the idea of putting her back into the dark and chilly kennel. She looked around the deck. The Steward was nowhere in sight.
Quickly, she shut the door and closed the padlock.
Then she slipped Muffin under her jacket and arranged it so that it hung loosely with no betraying bulge.
The rain seemed relentless and Justina was very happy to return to the warmth and safety of the ship’s interior. She was also happy to see that her bed had been made up and the cabin looked beautifully tidy.
Locking the door, Justina rescued the dog from inside her jacket. There were more frantic lickings of her face.
She took a cushion from the little sofa and put it down in a corner.
“Your bed,” she told the dog.
Muffin looked up at her, her head on one side and then arranged herself comfortably on it. Despite the motion of the ship, she seemed to fall asleep almost immediately.
Justina looked at her for a few moments and satisfied that she would be happy for a while, found her sketch book and some chalks.
The main lounge was almost empty. Only two elderly men were there, fast asleep in comfortable chairs.
Through the huge windows were marvellous views of the stormy waves with crests of white foam. In the distance, Justina could see a large sailing ship coming towards them.
Then she turned to a new page in her sketch book. Soon she was lost in capturing the wildness of the scene and the ship having a hard time making way against the wind with one small sail.
“Well, well,” said a familiar voice a little later. “Still not suffering from mal de mer I see.”
She looked up to find Sir Thomas standing beside her.
“Good morning,” she greeted him.
Wearing a smart blazer and a cravat, he looked very dashing.
“Quite an artist, aren’t you?” he said, taking a look at her sketch.
Justina forgot the slight unease she had felt in his company at the end of the previous evening and grinned. She had spent enough time on her own and was delighted to see him.
He sat down in the chair next to Justina and summoned the Steward.
“Now, you must join me in a brandy, nothing better for settling the stomach.”
“But my stomach does not need settling though – I thank you,” Justina responded hastily. “Are you feeling under the weather, Sir Thomas? Is that why you need brandy?”
“I am very good sailor,” he protested. “I hope you don’t think I look as though I am a victim of the ship’s motion like most of our fellow passengers.”
He looked around the almost empty lounge.
Justina told him the truth, which was that he looked very well.
“I haven’t seen Mrs. Arbuthnot or her girls this morning.”
“Victims – ” replied Justina succinctly. “I have been walking their dog.”
“Good Heavens, don’t tell me you like animals?”
“Don’t you?” Justina was amazed as she could not imagine anyone not liking man’s best friend.
“Horses are fine for getting me around, in fact, I rather pride myself on my equestrian abilities. For the rest,” he gave a shrug, “I’d rather not come into contact.”
Justina was about to start arguing with Sir Thomas when he continued,
“I prefer to spend my time with attractive members of the human race.”
He bared his teeth at her in a way that Justina hoped he meant for a joke.
“You,” he added, “are one of the most beautiful and unusual women it has been my privilege to meet for a long time.”
Justina gazed at him in astonishment. Exciting as it had been to hear him call her beautiful last night, it was extraordinary to be told again in the morning! It almost persuaded her that he meant it.
He moved his chair closer to hers.
“Last night you looked wonderful. I was so glad the Arbuthnots had to leave the table as they might have been insulted by the way I only had time for you.”
He smiled at her, a dangerous smile that made her heart flutter in a way it never had before.
“You have the most astonishing eyebrows. In another woman they might dominate her face too much, but yours are perfect, they balance the straightness of your nose and the size of those eyes, which have a depth of grey like the sea today.”
Justina could not stop staring at him.
Never before had any man spoken to her in such a way. One part of her wished him to continue, another was afraid of where it might lead.
She gave a nervous laugh.
“Now you are talking nonsense, Sir Thomas. Especially when I am dressed in my oldest clothes, I only brought them in case of rough weather.”
“When I look into those remarkable eyes, I cannot see anything else,” he mumbled.
Justina found herself almost unable to think. She swiftly gathered up her chalks and sketch pad.
“I – I must go – go and change before lunch is served. I cannot enter the Saloon dressed like this,” she managed to say.
“No one will notice.”
Sir Thomas tried to catch hold of her arm.
But Justina evaded his hand and, helped by the way the ship lurched, moved quickly out of the Lounge.
Gradually her heart stopped beating so rapidly and her breath came back.
She fought the motion of the ship as she made her way back to her cabin and wondered about her feelings.
Was this the sort of emotion Vicky had felt when she fell in love with Edward? Or Elizabeth when she was with Philip?
But at the thought of her eldest sister’s disastrous relationship, Justina felt panic.
She would have to be careful next time she met Sir Thomas not to allow him to raise such exciting feelings in her again.
Approaching her cabin, Justina became aware of a commotion. Her door was partly open and several Stewards and Stewardesses were outside, exclaiming and offering advice.
From inside the cabin came a furious mixture of barking and growling.
Muffin!
“What is happening?” she demanded.
“Miss Mansell, there is a dog in your cabin and it is preventing access,” Chappell said, fired up to the point where he was prepared to forget that she was one of his cherished passengers.
“I am so sorry,” she muttered and slipped past him.
Muffin was just inside the door, feet firmly planted on the floor, ears on end, sharp teeth bared, determined to repel all who would attempt to enter.
Justina bent down and scooped her up.
“There, there,” she cooed soothingly. “No need to be on guard, these are friends.”
“Thank you, miss,” Chappell said stiffly.
“I do apologise,” Justina replied, stroking a panting Muffin. “She thought she was protecting my territory, you see.”
“I don’t knows about that, miss. What I do know is that animals ain’t – isn’t allowed in the cabins. That dog should be in a kennel on the top deck.”
“But it’s so cold and miserable up there, she was so unhappy.” Justina started to get angry. “How can you condemn this poor little animal to such an awful fate when the weather is getting rougher and rougher?”
“Miss, it’s the rules and if you won’t obey them, I’ll have to call an Officer.”
“I don’t care if you fetch the Captain, I am not taking Muffin back up there,” Justina shouted.
Suddenly an authoritative voice broke into the argument.
“Will someone please explain what this noise is all about? I am finding it impossible to work in my cabin.”
To Justina’s amazement, Lord Castleton stood by the open door, a well-shaped eyebrow raised as he assessed the scene in front of him.
“Oh, my Lord, please help me,” she blurted out impulsively, remembering how kind he had been the previous evening. “They are trying to insist that this poor little dog is sent back to those awful kennels.”
Lord Castleton came into the cabin and looked at the terrier panting excitedly in Justina’s arms.
“Is this your dog?”
“No, she is Mrs. Arbuthnot’s.”
“So what are you doing with her?”
“Mrs. Arbuthnot is seasick and sent me a message asking if Dorcas would exercise her.”
“And who is Dorcas?”
“My maid, only she is seasick too, much worse than Mrs. Arbuthnot.”
“So you took on the duty,” he proclaimed as though the whole scene had now become clear to him. “And then decided that your cabin would be a more acceptable home for her than the official kennel?”
Justina looked up at him with relief.
“Yes, it was raining and cold and she was shivering and, well, I couldn’t do anything else.”
“You didn’t like it up on deck so you decided that – what is this animal’s name?”
“Muffin.”
“So you decided that Muffin didn’t like it either. Do you know what that process of deduction is called?”
Justina looked at him in surprise. What on earth was he talking about? Then suddenly she understood.
“Anthropomorphism?” she asked doubtfully.
“Good girl!”
“I don’t know what you’re on about, but that animal is not allowed in the cabins, my Lord,” broke in Chappell.
“Leave this to me, will you, please?” he said firmly but politely.
“Right you are, my Lord, as long as you understand ships’ regulations.”
“Quite,” said Lord Castleton.
He waited until the little group had dispersed, but made no move to shut the cabin door.
“Thank you so much, my Lord,” sighed Justina. She sank down on the little sofa. “I didn’t know what to do.”
He looked at her ruefully.
“What we have to do, I am afraid, is return this mutt to her kennel.”
Justina could not believe her ears.
“She’s not a mutt, surely you can see she is a Highland terrier. And surely you don’t expect her to go back to that dreadful kennel?”
“I admit that the accommodation is not what that spoilt animal is used to, but I promise you she will settle down quickly. Her ancestors were used to far worse.”
“But she isn’t,” Justina flared at him. “You are heartless if you condemn her to go back up there.”
Lord Castleton sighed.
“Call me what you like, but I have a dog in the kennels myself and I am known as a lover of animals.”
“I don’t believe it!”
“You don’t believe I’m a lover of animals?”
“I don’t believe you have a dog up there. You couldn’t have.”
“Shall we go and see?”
Justina looked up at him. There was nothing threatening about the way he stood there, but somehow she found it difficult to refuse him.
“Yes, let’s, then you will see exactly what I am talking about.”
“I was up there earlier myself, giving Breck a walk,” he said mildly, indicating the way into the corridor.
“Breck?”
“My dog. He is an Irish Wolf Hound. I expect to go hunting in India with one of the Maharajahs. I told him about Breck last time I was in India and he insisted I brought him on my next trip.”
Justina was so interested in this story, she forgot to insist that he need not expect her to leave Muffin in the kennel.
As they climbed to the upper deck, she plied him with questions.
Lord Castleton seemed happy to tell her about hunting wild boar and the fabulous palaces he had stayed in.
It was still raining, but the rocking of the ship seemed to have quietened a little.
As they emerged, the Steward in charge of the kennels came up to them.
“Have you got the little dog, miss? I’ve been that worried, seeing that the kennel was locked with no animal in it.”
“It’s fine, Parsons,” said Lord Castleton. “Miss Mansell has been good enough to introduce Muffin to me. Now I am going to introduce her to Breck. Would you be good enough to open both kennels?”
“Right away, my Lord. But I would ask you not to be too long as I’m not supposed to allow passengers on the deck in this weather.”
“We will be very careful,” responded Lord Castleton soothingly.
The Steward unlocked two of the kennels then stood by the funnel keeping an anxious eye on them.
“I am not leaving Muffin here,” Justina said pointedly.
“Come and meet Breck.”
He opened the door of his kennel and whistled. Out came a great, lanky and majestic looking brindle hound that bounded up to his master and gently licked his hand.
Lord Castleton took a firm grip of his collar.
“Shall we take them both inside for a few moments?” he suggested.
Justina was delighted. She was sure she could convince him that both animals should not be outside in this weather.
“Now, say hallo,” he commanded his dog.
Breck looked up at Justina still holding Muffin in her arms and licked at her hand. He was so tall that it was an easy reach for him.
“Oh, you darling,” she cried and caressed his head, feeling his coarse springy hair.
“Why don’t you put Muffin down and let them meet.”
Carefully she put Muffin on the ground. The little dog looked curiously at the huge animal and bared her teeth but did not growl.
Breck maintained a lordly disinterest for a few moments and then bent his head to sniff at the terrier. Muffin backed away and sat down while Breck circled her, sniffing gently and curiously.
As Justina watched, the two dogs seemed to reach an understanding. All at once Muffin started frisking around Breck and the huge hound settled to the ground so that their heads were on the same level.
Lord Castleton grinned at Justina.
“I think we can say they are now friends.”
“Shall we take them both back to my cabin?” she asked hopefully.
He laughed.
“Come, Miss Mansell, you are too intelligent to expect me to agree to that.”
He looked at the two dogs, now lying head to head, the hound taking up most of the landing space.
“Let’s get them put in adjacent kennels so they can be company for each other.”
Justina looked up at him distractedly. She had meant to insist on taking Muffin back with her, whether he could smooth things over with the Stewards or not. But now she was not so sure.
Would little Muffin really be happy, though, in that draughty kennel?
“Are you sure they will be all right?”
His eyes as he looked at her were kind and she felt something inside her melt.
“Quite, quite sure.”
Justina suddenly had an idea.
“Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
It took her rather more time than a minute to return, but Lord Castleton was still on the landing with the dogs playing happily together.
He smiled as she came up the companionway.
“Got what you went for?”
“Yes!” She waved a wrap at him. “If we put this in Muffin’s kennel, it will keep her warm.”
“You have a very good heart. Giving up your wardrobe to a dog that isn’t even your own.”
“Pooh. I don’t care about clothes nearly as much as animals.”
“Looking at you last night, I would never have believed it!”
“Please, let us not mention that ever again, I felt humiliated.”
She looked up at him shyly.
“And thank you for rescuing me.”
“I did nothing. Everybody would have forgiven you for not knowing the form.”
Lord Castleton was so grand and yet so approachable. She felt she could trust him in any situation.
It was a very different feeling from the one Sir Thomas inspired in her, much more comfortable and yet, in its own way, also unsettling.
Justina enveloped Muffin in the warm wrap and straightened up with the little dog in her arms. Lord Castleton looked at her with a humour and companionship that made her feel they were friends.
Lord Castleton spoke to the Steward and Muffin’s kennel was moved so it was next to Breck’s and the two dogs could see each other.
Justina organised the wrap inside and arranged Muffin in its folds. She took time to talk to her, saying that she was going to be all right, that Breck would keep an eye on her and that she would come back to see how she was.
The little dog looked up at her trustingly and did not seem at all distressed at having the door closed on her.
Justina stood up and apologised for taking so long.
“Not to worry. If we’ve made Muffin happier with her lot, it’s time well spent.”
Then he pulled out his watch.
“We can just catch lunch.”
*
Lord Castleton led the way into the Saloon. He headed for his small table at the back of the large room, waving off Merton, who had hurried forward.
Then he realised that Justina had stopped at the long table.
He was surprised to see her talking with another passenger, an elderly man with gold-rimmed glasses. He smiled as he saw the comfortable way she chatted to him.
“Shall we sit here?” he suggested.
Her large grey eyes looked pleased.
“May I introduce Mr. Wright, my Lord? He is a member of the Indian Civil Service.”
“Delighted to meet you, Mr. Wright. I shall be having many meetings with the ICS during the next few months.”
He sat down beside Justina, opposite the civil servant.
“How is your wife? Feeling any better?” asked Justina. “I think the motion of the ship has eased a little during the morning.”
“Not enough,” he replied ruefully. He polished off a piece of steamed pudding and rose. “I must go and see how she is, though I doubt I’ll get more than a few whispered words of wishing for death from her. I trust you will enjoy your meal, it is a pleasure to see a young lady with such fine sea legs.”
They watched him walk away.
Lord Castleton asked if Justina would like some wine and was amused to see her wrinkling her nose as she debated with herself over whether to accept his offer.
“It’s very kind of you, my Lord, but I think my father would say alcohol should be restricted to the evenings. But, please,” she added hastily, “do have some yourself.”
“I will,” he assured her and ordered a bottle of claret.
“I find I am very hungry,” Justina confided in him. “But perhaps that is unladylike to confess.”
“Does it worry you to be thought unladylike?” he enquired, amused at the unexpected nature of this girl.
“I am always being told how important it is to comport myself with due decorum,” she said and looked at him through her long eyelashes, a proper picture of demureness.
“And you find that difficult?”
Justina sighed heavily.
“I want to say what I think, so many aspects of life are exciting and interesting, or make me angry. Instead of being able to discuss them with, well, with anyone, I am supposed to make commonplace comments.”
Any of Lord Castleton’s many friends would have been amazed to see him in conversation with a girl only just ‘out’.
On the rare occasions he attended balls and dinner parties, he spent most of his time avoiding the attentions of husband-hunting mothers and debutantes.
The previous evening he had obeyed an impulse to rescue a girl who seemed, despite the style of her inappropriate gown, to be all at sea in every sense.
When he had been disturbed by the noise in the next door cabin, he had at first hardly recognised her. Gone was the elegant dress, exchanged for clothes more suited to a Second than a First Class passenger. Her flaming hair was drawn back in an unbecoming knot and her rigidly controlled demeanour had given way to unashamed passion – all on behalf of a small dog!
Once again he had obeyed an impulse. Instead of allowing the Stewards to send for a ship’s Officer, who would have known exactly how to insist the dog was returned to its kennel and would probably have left the girl feeling bruised and resentful, he had taken charge himself.
What was it about her that caused him to behave in such a reckless fashion?
“Are you ‘out’?” he asked her.
Justina gave another great sigh.
“My aunt, Lady Elder, gave me a Season last year. I am afraid I let her down badly.”
“In what way did you let her down?” he asked curiously. “I am sure your manners could not be found wanting and you have a remarkable presence.”
She flushed, disconcerted at his remark.
“Presence, my Lord? My aunt would say I lacked tact and social graces.” She lent towards him in her engagingly confiding manner. “Perhaps you know how to speak to girls who seem to have no thoughts in their heads beyond eligible men and the latest fashions, as I don’t. And is it my fault if young men prefer blonde curls and simpering misses who never contradict a single thing they say?”
Lord Castleton laughed.
“No doubt you told them when they said something less than sensible?”
Justina grinned at him, perfectly at ease again.
“They would make the most asinine remarks, such as wasn’t the weather perfect, or didn’t I think the current Royal Academy exhibition such a topping lot of pictures? Most of the time I stood at the side of the dance floor watching other girls look at them as though they were Gods.”
She gave a most unladylike snort.
Miss Mansell had a very mobile face and Lord Castleton enjoyed himself watching dismay gradually dawn over it.
“You see what a wretched grasp of etiquette I have,” she said. “I should be asking you about yourself, why you are going to India, which I would dearly love to hear about, and thanking you again for sorting out poor Muffin instead of telling you how impossible I am.”
“Are you impossible?”
“Mama and Papa are expecting me to attract a suitable husband on this visit to my brother. They are worried I shall end an old maid. I used to think that I would like to remain a spinster as that way I could think and say what I liked, but now I wonder if it might not be better to find someone I could love with all my heart. Then I would please Mama and Papa and be happy myself. Would that be impossible, do you think, my Lord?”
He was taken aback.
Not at the sentiments, he could understand those all too well, but that she should be expressing them to himself.
But this girl was simply talking to him as though he was her – damn it, as though he was her uncle! A man of her father’s generation.
Lord Castleton was in his early thirties and nothing in his life so far had suggested young women could look on him as anything other than desirable husband material.
Until now!
He picked up his wine glass and drank deeply.
Justina was looking at him anxiously. She obviously expected a sincere response.
“Not at all impossible, Miss Mansell,” he said quietly. “I was fortunate enough to enjoy a most loving relationship until death took my beloved Ariadne from me.”
“What a tragedy,” Justina sighed. She put a slim hand on his arm. “I feel so much for you.”
He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.
“Thank you. And I hope that you will find someone you can love as deeply.” He tried for a lighter tone. “I am sure you will meet a wide variety of single men during your time in India. Why not give them a chance to attract you. I am sure they will find you a delightful companion.”
Then she proved that she had both tact and social skills by enquiring about the reasons for his visit to India.
He enjoyed telling her how he would be meeting many of the Maharajas.
The rest of the meal passed very quickly as he held her entranced with tales of bejewelled and autocratic rulers.
“And you must try and see Jaipur,” he suggested as their dessert plates were removed. “When the Prince of Wales visited there some twenty years ago, the town was painted a fetching shade of ochre and now it is known as the Pink City.”
“How amazing! Fancy painting a whole town just because a foreign Prince was to pay a visit.”
“Remember that he will be Emperor of India one day.”
“I must say, though, that ochre doesn’t sound very pink.”
“It’s the sun that gives it that special tinge.”
“Oh, how wonderful it would be to see it at sunset,” Justina clapped her hands, immediately entranced with the vision. “I must ask Peter if he can organise a visit.”
Lord Castleton wanted to say that he would arrange it for her, but restrained himself.
“It is still raining and the motion of the ship is keeping most passengers in their cabins. Would you like to play some cards? Simple games,” he added hastily. “I do not mean we should gamble.”
Justina gave him one of her delightful grins.
“Vicky and I often play a sort of double-handed patience. I wonder if you know it?”
“You can show me and I am sure you can teach me quite quickly.”
Justina could hardly believe that here she was playing cards with Lord Castleton. She in fact spent several hours with him in an atmosphere of great amiability. It was almost as though he was one of the family.
It was no doubt wrong of her to tell him all about her worries over finding a suitable husband, but he had not seemed to mind.
With a cry of triumph, Justina won the latest of their games. She glanced delightedly up at Lord Castleton and caught him looking at her with a warm smile.
All of a sudden, deep within her, she felt her heart stop and it was if the world halted in its motion.
Moments later her heart thumped back with a strange beat, the world continued its spinning and her breath returned.
But it was as if a layer of her skin had been removed, leaving her ultra-sensitive to the man sitting on the other side of the table. She was conscious of every breath he drew, every movement he made.
Justina gathered up the cards with trembling hands. She tried to shuffle them, but she had no control and they spilled everywhere.
Lord Castleton did not seem to notice anything strange. His attention was caught by someone who had just entered the Lounge.
“Well, well,” said Sir Thomas. “I see you are having fun. Can I join your little party?”
Without waiting for an invitation, he brought a chair up to their table, sat down and started to help Justina gather together the cards.
His presence helped her regain some sort of control.
In one way she was pleased that Sir Thomas had arrived, but in another she resented him intruding on the happy time she had been enjoying with Lord Castleton.
“What is the game?” enquired Sir Thomas, shuffling the pack expertly.
Lord Castleton rose.
“I am afraid I have to return to my papers,” he said and Justina could not understand why his voice was suddenly so cold.
“Have I said something?” Sir Thomas asked in a jovial voice.
“Not at all. It is unfortunate I have had to bring so much work with me. Miss Mansell, thank you for your company.”
He gave Justina a small stiff bow and left the Lounge.
She felt abandoned.
Before Sir Thomas arrived, they had been friends, now it was as though he had been undertaking some kind of duty in being with her, a duty that the arrival of the other man had removed from him.
“I have to apologise for my clothes, Sir Thomas. As you can see, I have not been able to change.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You still look enchanting to me, but what prevented you?”
“There was some trouble with Mrs. Arbuthnot’s dog. Lord Castleton helped sort things out. We were very late for lunch.”
“Castleton helped you?”
“He was very kind.”
Sir Thomas ran a thumb over the edge of the cards in a way that Justina found irritating.
She suddenly felt drained. It had been an exhausting day. Coping with the motion of the ship was tiring. The difficulties with Muffin had caused her a great deal of stress.
Then there was that heart-stopping moment with Lord Castleton that she could not understand, or why when he left so abruptly she should feel so lost.
And now there was Sir Thomas. She enjoyed the way he made her feel attractive, but he raised tensions in her that, again, she did not understand.
“I am so sorry,” she said, rising. “I am afraid I must have a rest. The ship rocks so much.”
He looked up and she saw that he was angry.
“I understand, but you are not tired enough to play cards with Lord Castleton,” he gave the title a derisive emphasis.
“But when I come along, suddenly you have to go and rest,” he mimicked a mincing way of speaking that Justina did not feel resembled at all her straight-forward delivery. “Well, let me tell you that there is little to admire about Lord Castleton.”
“What – what do you mean?”
Sir Thomas looked at her, his dark eyes serious.
“Perhaps I should not have spoken as I did, but I knew the late Lady Castleton very well – poor woman.”
“Why do you say, ‘poor woman’ like that?”
“Because she was to be pitied, married to Castleton with his proud airs and political ambitions. She found life, shall we say, unsatisfactory.”
Justina could not take in what he was saying.
“Ariadne was a beautiful woman, she could have had any number of men. She must have regretted her choice many a time, left on her own while Castleton danced attendance on his political masters, always at the House of Lords or in Whitehall instead of accompanying her to dinner or spending time at their country estate.”
Sir Thomas gave a bark of a laugh.
“Don’t let that smooth manner fool you, Castleton lacks a heart.”
“I cannot believe – ” she started to say when he interrupted her with a deprecating laugh.
“Of course you can’t. You or the rest of the world.” He sighed heavily. “Perhaps I see things differently because I was so fond of Ariadne.”
He looked so sad that Justina in her impulsive way felt sorry for him. She could not, though, believe that Lord Castleton had been anything but a model husband.
“But I am keeping you from your rest.” Sir Thomas rose. “I shall look forward to seeing you this evening. Perhaps if Mrs. Arbuthnot and her daughters are still not well, you will join me for dinner?”
Justina muttered something to the effect that he was very kind and left the Lounge.
The ship was now pitching and rolling more than ever and, even though she did not feel seasick, she was not sorry to lie on her bed.
On the other side of the bulkhead was Lord Castleton’s cabin.
She wanted to go and ask him why he had left their card game so abruptly.
What had it had to do with the arrival of Sir Thomas?
Was he going to spend the rest of the voyage working in his cabin? She wanted so much to be able to talk to him again.
Sir Thomas had asked her to dine with him. The prospect was exciting but unnerving and, even more important, she was sure that her aunt would not approve.
When Sir Thomas looked at her with his dark eyes, she felt her heart begin to race, but he was a very unsettling companion.
Was he to be trusted?