By the Light of the Silvery Moon (18 page)

An officer strolled the deck. He wore a sharp, dark black uniform with two rows of gold buttons on his lapel. Under his jacket was a white dress shirt and tie. A black cap with a gold insignia topped the uniform.

Damien offered him a wave. “Thanks for all you do.” He called out to the man.

The officer smiled in surprise. “Thanks, lad, but ‘tis not hard on this ship. The
Titanic
runs herself, but I appreciate you saying as much.”

“Do you know him?” Amelia asked as the officer strode off.

“Now I do. Now we both do.” Damien winked.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I suppose so.”

“My mother is to blame for that. Growing up, I’d hear her thanking our drivers, our cooks. She smiled and chatted with the sailors on the ships and the conductors on the trains. To strangers she seemed an awful flirt, but that was simply her nature.”

“Trains, ships … So, do you travel like this often?” She glanced at the handsome deck chairs with lush fabric cushions. “This is quite a sight for me to behold, but maybe you’re used to it.”

“My father does love to travel, but I’ve always told him it’s the company we travel with that makes the trip worthwhile. So tell me, Amelia, what are you doing here? And where are you headed?”

He paused, leaning one hip against the deck’s rail.

“I’m heading to live in America. My aunt and I will be living near my cousin. It will be great to reunite—and there is a man there my cousin wants me to meet.”

Damien cocked an eyebrow.

“Are you interested in opening your heart to this stranger?” Damien asked.

“I don’t know many strangers, only friends I haven’t gotten to know well yet. Similar to you.” She chuckled. “Or at least that’s what my aunt Neda has told me many times.” She shrugged. “I’m not committed, yet I’m open. I’m open to see what’s out there—who’s out there.”

Damien smiled. “Yes, I see. I’m finding myself in the same place.” And with that he let out a long, low sigh.

Quiet fell between them. Their eyes met, looked away, met again. There was an attraction there she couldn’t deny. What would it be like to spend her life with someone like this? Someone who traveled the world yet didn’t seem caught up in the trappings of luxury as others she observed and read about. Damien was easy to talk to, was outgoing and kind to strangers, yet he also did his duty to help mankind. She never thought a man like him existed—not until now.

The way his dark eyes embraced her made her trust him as she hadn’t trusted any other man. It also made her want to reveal what she knew about Quentin.

Damien would help his brother … if Quentin would only give him a chance.

“I appreciate your invitation. Also, if you were wondering about your brother—”

“I wasn’t.” His words interrupted.

“But I assumed that was what you wanted to talk to me about.”

“You assumed wrong.” His eyes fixed on hers. “When you say that you knew him briefly, that there was no relationship, I believe you. It’s good he’s out of your life.”

“But how could you be certain? I could have lied.”

He shook his head. “My brother, Quentin, ruins all he touches. He has not touched you, my dear, for there is nothing tarnished about you.”

“I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment for myself or as a jab at your brother. He seemed like a very nice fellow the times we talked.”

“He lies. He cheats. He ruins…. You have no idea how he’s ruined my father. My father’s name—his pocketbook—would be greater than John Jacob Astor if not for my brother, Quentin.” He spat his brother’s name as if it were poison on his lips. “If not for my brother, we’d be able to afford the largest stateroom on this ship. The one with a private deck.”

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle.
Maybe I judged him too favorably.

“Are you complaining about your accommodations? That you don’t have the biggest or best? I’m sorry, sir, if first class does not suit you. I’m sure if you have a moment you can travel down a few more decks and explain to the men and women in steerage that you would have the largest and most luxurious suite had it not been for your brother’s betrayal. You seem rather spoiled to me.” Her eyes narrowed, but instead of indignation in his gaze, Damien’s laughter filled the air.

The sound came from his gut, and his face reddened. He paused, attempting to catch his breath.

Anger bubbled up inside Amelia, and she placed her fists on her hips. “I’m so glad you find me so amusing.” She turned, but his soft grip caught her arm.

“No, wait.” He sucked in a breath and gently turned her around. “I’m laughing at myself. How foolish—how spoiled I did sound. I’m laughing because in all my days I’ve never had a woman speak to me that way, and amazingly I found it refreshing.”

Amelia felt heat rising to her cheeks. She sat down in the nearest lounge chair and took a sudden interest in running her hand over the curve of the armrest. “Yes, well … I suppose you did need to be put in your place.”

He laughed again and then sat down in the chair next to her. The toe of his shined leather shoe tapped along to music that drifted out from one of the nearby rooms.

“This is a short voyage,” he said, “and I’m not allowed on your deck—or you on mine—but I’m going to talk to someone to see if we can rectify that problem. And if we can find a way, I’d like to spend more time getting to know you. As much time as possible.”

“It’s a wonderful thought, but I hardly know you, sir. I am sure you are very nice, but …”

But what? How could she argue that she couldn’t spend time with him because she didn’t know him well enough? Wasn’t that the point?

“Also, I do have my aunt,” she hurriedly continued. Her anger of a moment before dissipated with the smile that lit up his eyes. She tried to ignore his gaze. Mostly she tried to ignore how that gaze made her feel seen, truly seen, and wanted. “I must spend time with my aunt,” she repeated. “And you have your father.”

“I’ve spent nearly every day with my father for the last five years. I think he’ll be fine if I spend a little time wooing a beautiful woman.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Wooing?”

“Only if you don’t mind.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

“How about you say yes to supper tonight … in first class?”

“Really?” She thought of the peek she’d gotten into the first-class dining room. The fine linens and silver and crystal and fresh flowers.
Oh my!
Just looking into that room was the closest she’d ever been to feeling like royalty.

“Yes, really.” He laughed.

Goose bumps rose on her arms as she considered accepting his offer. But she also chided herself for getting so excited about it.

“I’m not sure.” She cocked her chin, rising and moving back to the rail. Damien followed. “One minute I’m calling you spoiled, and then—“

“And then you accept my invitation to be spoiled alongside me?” He folded his hands as if in prayer and pulled them up close to his lips. She couldn’t help but laugh.

Amelia blew out a sigh and fingered the pearl buttons on the wrist of her sleeve. “Yes, I suppose so. How can I resist that? Then I accept your invitation.”

He beamed radiantly. “Tonight, then?” He placed his hand on hers and turned her so their backs were to the deck rail. As he did, she again caught the intoxicating whiff of his cologne. Most likely something from one of those pricey shops in London. Or Paris. It probably cost more than her aunt made in six months … and from the way it caused her stomach to flip, it might just be worth it.

They walked back to the enclosed deck. Why had he approached her? Why was he being so flattering? What did he really know about her other than the fact that she’d seen his brother?

His brother.
The lightness that danced around her heart sank a bit. He pretended he didn’t care about Quentin, but was that the truth?

Maybe he was causing her to lower her defenses so she’d freely give up any information she had. Did she dare let Damien know Quentin was a passenger on this very ship? Even though she’d promised Quentin she wouldn’t tell them, it was a valid question. Even though they were still stuck on the same boat, Quentin was still running from his family. A family who worried about his well-being.

If she tried to talk to Quentin about the need for reconciliation, it would do little good, but if his older brother approached—maybe he’d listen then. She’d need time to think about that—to figure out what to do, what to say. For now she decided to enjoy this time with Damien.

“Yes, tonight I’ll join you for supper,” she finally relented. “It’ll be quite a challenge, though, to keep you off your high horse.”

“You’re right, and I’m glad you’re up to the challenge. I have a feeling, Amelia, you’ll keep me on my toes.”

A
unt Neda didn’t wait for Amelia to find her. Instead, as Amelia sat on one of the lounge chairs on the promenade deck, she lifted her face to see her aunt hurrying toward her. A smile tugged at Amelia’s lips, as she was sure she hadn’t seen her aunt move so quickly in years.

“Amelia, dear, you do have to let your dear aunt know more of your comings and goings on this trip. Our friends at tea wanted to know all the details of your acquaintance with Mr. Walpole, and I had nothing to share with them. One dear woman seated next to me pointed out that Mr. Damien Walpole looked very similar to the man who’d approached you at breakfast, but I assured her there was no connection.”

Amelia nodded. “I’m sure you’re right, Aunt,” she said simply.

Aunt Neda sat down on the cushioned chair next to her. “So tell me, dear, where ever did you meet Mr. Walpole?”

“Yesterday when I went to first class, I met Damien and his father there.”

“And you spoke to them? Amelia, dear, I thought you were only going to find your friend’s book. You shouldn’t have bothered those dear people in first class. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Tension stirred in Amelia’s chest. How could she explain what had happened? It wasn’t as if she tried to be a bother. She’d made an honest mistake and believed Damien to be Quentin. She sat a little straighter, flustered by the displeased look in her aunt’s eyes.

“And what do you mean by that, Aunt? What aren’t you surprised about?”

Aunt Neda sighed. “If there is a side of town where you hear it is too dangerous, you will find yourself there. If you know someone has a contagious disease, you are the first taking food. If there is a sign saying, F
IRST
-C
LASS
P
ASSENGERS
O
NLY
, you’re going to cross it. Not only that, you’re going to strike up conversations. We’ve only been on the ship one day, and you’ve already stuck your nose into quite a few places.”

“But it’s not like that. It’s not that I’m trying to bother anyone. I never asked for any of this. I promise I will try to mind myself better in the days ahead.”

Her aunt nodded, as if she was finally satisfied that Amelia was put in her place. And as Amelia watched, her aunt’s concerned look turned again into one of curiosity. “So, dear, it is clear you shouldn’t have talked with the man and his father. But since you did, I’m curious to know what happened. More than that, what did he wish to speak to you about?”

Amelia shrugged and blew out a soft breath. “He didn’t want much. Damien Walpole just wanted to know if I’d join him for supper tonight … in first class.”

Aunt Neda’s eyes widened. “Did you agree to it?”

Amelia smoothed the fabric on her skirt. She pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling like a fool for accepting. “Well, I did. I mean, how often will one get to experience such a thing?”

Even as she spoke, Amelia knew she wasn’t convincing, not even to herself. “But I could send a note…. Maybe a steward could get a message to him saying I changed my mind.” The stirrings of attraction and interest in her chest told her she was doing the right thing by saying no. She should never let silly, girlish attraction for a man like that grow. He most likely was someone who dated often. Who knew, maybe Damien had a girlfriend on every trip. Maybe asking her to dinner was part of his onboard entertainment.

“No.” The word shot from Aunt Neda’s lips, interrupting her thoughts. “I wouldn’t do that … just yet.”

Amelia scratched her head. “You don’t want me to cancel?” “It’s only dinner….”

“I know that, but part of me worries. I mean, I wouldn’t be here without the help of Mr. Chapman….”

“’Tis true.” Her aunt looked away, pretending to be interested in two young women who paused near them on the deck, chatting about their family members who were waiting for them in New York. “But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I was talking to the women at lunch. They were from America. They said the Walpoles are well known and have endeared themselves to the community in which they live. This Damien sounds like a nice man, Amelia.”

A nice man.
Amelia already knew he was much more than nice. She only hoped she wasn’t setting herself up for heartbreak.

“Well, I suppose I should keep my word….” She let her words trail off as she noticed approval in her aunt’s gaze.

Amelia was wistful as she, too, watched the young women at the railing—the wind whipping through their hair. If only she could just enjoy the journey. When had everything become so complicated? How was it possible she was juggling feelings for three men?

“And, I have to say,” her aunt continued, “someone like Damien Walpole would make a very nice catch.”