If You Deceive

Chapter Twenty-seven

Ethan stared at the ceiling of the train car, reeling from the magnitude of what he'd done.

The chit seemed determined to stick to him like glue. Because sheliked him. He'd admitted to murder, and she'd given him that adoring expression again.

Sometimes being with her reminded him of going hunting with Hugh. His brother was a master rifleman, so fast to aim and shoot that even Ethan, no slouch, found himself doing a double take, frowning. That's what he felt like with her. Always doing a double take. Always perplexed with her.

Ach, if he wasn't careful, he could get used to those looks she gave him.

And when she'd met him eye to eye and told him she'd chosen him over Quin? The excitement he'd felt from winning her was indescribable….

"I have to warn you," she said, then, "Trains have a tendency to make me very"—she yawned—"sleepy."

Within five minutes of their departure, her body slumped and her forehead hit his shoulder, but she jerked awake.

She did this several times until he said, "Just fall asleep. I will no' let anything happen to you."

She nodded. "Maybe I could just lie there…" She stared hungrily at his chest as if she was fantasizing sleeping against it.

"I thought you dinna like sleeping with another."

"Only in bed."

"Why?" Before he'd thought better of it, he'd patted his chest, coaxing her to lie there. When she curled up against him, his arm decided to slide around her. "Why only in bed?"

"When I broke my arm, I had to go to l'Hotel Dieu. A hospital for indigents. And they packed four girls into a cot." Her voice was getting softer. "Every night, these fevered girls would thrash about, hitting my arm again and again. If the floor hadn't been freezing and covered with filth, I would have slept there." When she fell silent, he jostled her a bit until she continued, "I had to wait there for days after I'd been cleared to leave."

"Had your mother already died, then?"

She sighed. "Corrine told you."

"Aye. Doona blame her—I can be persuasive, as you know. Now, answer the question."

"No, she hadn't."

"Why were you stuck there?"

"My mother just…forgot me for a little while. When she was getting us a new place to live."

Ethan briefly closed his eyes. Yes, he'd hoped she'd had much in common with Sylvie. Instead, she had more in common with Ethan. They'd both been hurt by the woman.

"Why didn't you tell me your mother died?"

"Orphansounds so…pitiful. And I didn't want Claudia and Quin to know anything about how terrible it is—was—in La Marais. I didn't know if I could trust you not to tell your friends."

"How did Sylvie die?"

Madeleine drew back. "Did you know her?" she asked with a frown.

Lying easily, he said, "Never met her."

"You called her by her first name."

"Quin told me your parents' names and Corrine called her that today." He put his whole hand on the side of her head and pressed her back to him.

"Oh. Well, she died of cholera when I was fourteen."

That disease was a grueling way to die, and in his job, he'd seen it firsthand more than once. The victim's body evacuated all liquids, then pain and spasms wracked the muscles, blood thickening in every vein. And all the while the victim was sentient—very aware of dying.

He felt a ruthless satisfaction to know that was how Sylvie had met her end, but then his brows drew together. "You were no'…you were no'with her when she died?"

"Yes. But she passed away very quickly. Within a day."

Yetanother horror she'd witnessed. "You dinna get it from her?" Cholera was highly contagious if one didn't know how to prevent its spread.

She tensed. "I'm stronger than I appear, Ethan."

"Of course, lass." She was one of the strongest women he'd ever encountered—even if she looked like a defenseless waif. She was brave and resourceful as well.

He could stare at her for hours.

He'd taken her with him. And, God help them both, he was glad he'd done it.

Maddy woke alone in a luxurious stateroom. A circle of bright sunlight beamed in through a port window, telling her it was late morning. She remembered passing out in the train last night and supposed the last few weeks of worry had caught up with her. Ethan must have carried her aboard and put her to bed.

Rising to examine the room, she ran her fingers over the rosewood furnishings, wrought with ormolu and gilt, then over the rich counterpane.

The bed and the bathtub were as large as the hotel's. In fact, everything in this room was big—as if the designer had been dared that he couldn't possibly have such large fixtures and furnishings on a ship. Apparently Ethan never did anything second-best.

Eager to go find him and to explore the ship, she quickly washed then dressed in a cobalt blue walking gown of stiff fitted silk. She'd just finished unpacking the broad-brimmed hat with the matching cobalt ribbon when he returned.

"Good. You're awake."

"Good morning, Scot," Maddy said, giving him a bright smile.

He frowned at her. "You look well rested."

"I should be. I think I slept eighteen hours." She waved a hand around the room. "I could get used to this. You weren't jesting when you said the ship would be luxurious."

He took a seat at the mounted desk and motioned her to sit on the bed. "Now that we're here, there are some things I want to speak to you about. Some rules."

"Certainly." She sat with her hands in her lap.

"First of all, there's to beno stealing . And we're to act as husband and wife, which means you will no' be flirting with any of the men as you did in the tavern," he said with a glower. "And doona bloody steal anything. You ken?"

She blinked at him. "I'm getting the feeling that you don't want me to…steal?" Growing serious, she said, "I didn'tenjoy taking things that didn't belong to me. I only did it out of necessity. Take away the necessity, and I won't steal. It's as simple as that."

"What about the flirting?"

"Jealous, Scot?"

"No' likely. If you blatantly trifle with other men, people will wonder about our marriage."

"Are those the only rules? Should be simple enough. How long should I say we've been married?"

"A week. This is our honeymoon."

"Would you like me to fawn over you when we go about in public?"

"No' at all. In fact, I will no' want you underfoot. There's no reason for us to be constantly together." At her surprised expression, he said, "Understand, Madeleine, I've been a bachelor for many a year and a loner besides. It will irritate me if you're always around."

Though his words hurt her feelings, she nonchalantly tapped her temple. "Be overfoot."

"There's more than one hundred and fifty other passengers aboard. I'm sure if you make an effort, you can befriend one of the other wives on board."

"I'm not a wife."

"They don't know that. So you should be able to entertain yourself during the days—all day."

"I shall endeavor to make friends and stay busy—and out of your way."

"But I'll expect you back in the cabin when the sun goes down."

"Very well. You've made my instructions clear." She rose, kissed him on the cheek, then collected her reticule.

"So you're going?"

"Of course," she said, her tone sunny. "Have a wonderful day, Ethan."

The baffled look on his face before she walked out was priceless. Had he expected her to fight for the right to be near him? She couldn't force him to want to spend more time with her. That just had to come.

Besides, Maddy well understood what it was like to be saddled with someone she'd rather not be around. Her own mother had had a cloying personality, and her neediness had always made Maddy crazed. Maddy would be deuced if she'd behave the same way.Distant, aloof. That's what she would be like.

Out on deck, Maddy discovered that theBlue Riband was one of the finest ships she'd ever seen. It was a sleek steamer with full sail rigging—and no paddle wheels above the waterline. She'd have to ask Ethan about that. If she hadn't seen the two smokestacks, she would have sworn they were on a sailboat.

Though they weren't to get under way until the high tide tonight, the ship already appeared full. Couples strolled a marked promenade; game tables were set up on board, with special holders for the playing cards so they wouldn't blow away. Nannies chased children across decks that gleamed in the bright sun.

The activity helped distract her from her wounded feelings, and now that she had the luxury of a day at leisure, she would enjoy it. She would lie on a chaise and have someone fetch her tea while she reveled in the fact that her boots didn't hurt her.The life!

The wind blew up, whipping the stiff fabric of her dress, and the crisp sound pleased her. After a quick scan of the decks, Maddy determined that her dress was finer than any she could see on the other women.

A group of seated young wives took her measure—they reminded Maddy of the boulangerie women, but these were richer. Maddy subtly raised her chin, but only so she could incline her head to them when she passed, as if she were royalty.

They all had jewelry—pearl earrings, chokers, and diamond brooches. Maddy's ears and neck felt bare. But it didn't matter, because she could brazen out the situation, fabricate reasons why she had none.

L'audace fait les reines. Audacity makes queens.

By the time the ship made port, she'd have convinced the "other" young wives that she yearned to wear all her many, many jewels, but she was a helpless slave to fashion—and this year Paris fashion dictated wearing no jewelry—except,naturellement , when dining at court.