“Aye, sir.” Ian stood and offered a conciliatory bow of his head.
Amelia gave him a final piercing look that Ian took as a blatant warning before she followed the captain.
Outside, the woman in the oilskin coat, Birdie, leaned lazily against the warehouse wall. She watched Ian like a gull scanning the shore at low tide. “Have you agreed to behave yourself? ’Cos if not, I enjoy renderin’ a bit of the old discipline, now and again.”
At Ian’s silence, she pushed herself off the building and led him to the gangplank. He searched the dark foredeck for some sign of Diana, but only spotted deckhands moving about. At the stern, one of them hung up a lantern. It bobbed back and forth, and the light cascaded over the port side of the ship, where they’d painted the vessel’s name in neat, white letters.
Ever Hart.
Ian released a rough laugh.
Birdie rolled her eyes. “It ain’t a mistake. Thought a toff like you would know what a hart is.”
He smirked, unwilling to let on that he knew bloody well that a hart was a more poetic name for a red stag. “Haven’t read much Homer, have you, Birdie?”
“No, pet. Been meanin’ to, after I have the ballroom redecorated.”
Her sarcasm was original. Ian was beginning to enjoy it. “He’s the ancient Greek poet who composed theIliadand theOdyssey. They say Homer was the first person to transcribe the oral tradition of Greek myths. If you know how to navigate by the stars, I reckon you’ve heard about the Greek gods and goddesses.”
“Aye, I know my constellations and some stories.”
“There’s one goddess in particular you’d like. Artemis, goddess of the hunt.” He jutted his chin to the ship. “Her symbol was a deer. An ever-faithful white stag.”
Birdie’s skeptical frown faded. “Didn’t know that.”
“The Romans had a different name for Artemis.” Ian peered up at the bridge of the ship. “They called her Diana.”
Chapter Eleven
Dianawaitedthreeinsufferablehours before she began her inspection of theEver Hartat the bowels of the ship.
In the dimly lit corridor, she held herself back from descending the narrow ladder leading all the way through to the boilers. She didn’t want her presence to raise suspicion and unnecessary turmoil among the crew working the most grueling and important job onboard. The arduous work demanded not only physical strength but resilience to the scalding heat and careful attention. One stray movement, one toss of a burning coal, and the entire ship could go up in flames.
When the operating shift came up for the mandatory water break, Ian was the last to emerge.
Like the other crew members, he wore nothing but the cotton drawstring trousers and linen undervest they provided to keep the men cool as they worked. The fine fabric was damp and clung to the well-formed muscles of his chest.
Her sharp intake of breath reverberated in the narrow confines of the corridor.
Ian’s eyes snapped to her corner of the hallway. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched in that way that was supposed to scare her.
Instead, it stoked her arousal.
She drew her posture to its full height and ignored the wild patter of her heart as she turned away and strode down the corridor.
She proceeded through the steerage deck, which they’d assigned to the crew forEver Hart’sfirst voyage, to further incentivize them for their silence about the cargo and the ship. Then she stopped in the galley to confirm the food on board was enough to supply them for three days before they docked in France. When she reached the promenade deck, she assessed that all twenty passengers—women and children—had settled into their quarters without issue.
Finally, she made her way outside to the weather deck and worked her lungs to find the even pattern of breathing she’d lost the minute Ian had locked eyes with her.
Amelia found her standing beneath the eaves of the foredeck as she futilely searched the cloudy sky for stars.
“Rain’s on the way,” Diana murmured. “We should let the passengers know the sea may turn choppy.”
“I’ll handle it. Have you spoken with Virgil?”
“Yes. Everything’s sorted for the navigation exercises tomorrow. We have a chance of making it to Guernsey tomorrow evening. If that storm doesn’t slow us down.”
“The crew are all settling in?”