Miles Before I Sleep (12 page)

13

Sitting as still as possible on the horsehair sofa in her large stateroom, Andrea tried to breathe slowly and remain calm. She was dumbfounded by her brazen behavior the night before. It was not just that she had allowed him to walk her back to her room and let him kiss her without rebuke, but she had actually said things that could only be deemed as encouragement, if not outright flirting. How could she when she knew Miles Huntington was the cousin of the man she had jilted?

She should stay as far away from him as possible. The man was a danger to her in so many ways. But in truth, she enjoyed his company and strangely enough, she was attracted to him. Andrea could not understand how it was possible to be attracted to someone when she knew it could lead to the dreaded wedding bed. She supposed she might compare it to eating a whole box of chocolates knowing it would make her sick if she ate the whole thing. Andrea knew there was a price to be paid if she did not stop. But she just kept telling herself, just a little more.

For the first time in her life, Andrea began to understand what those silly girls at school were talking about. Andrea sighed, knowing this could not last. When he discovered who she was, he was going to be furious and think she played him for a fool. Would he turn her over to her father or to his cousin? Perhaps if she explained herself, maybe he would be understanding and keep her secret.

Andrea needed to keep her goal in mind. If she could prove that she could comprehend and run her father’s company, there would be no reason why she would have to get married. Why could she not have been betrothed to Miles instead of his cousin? It would have been a much more logical union. His business was very similar to theirs—much more similar than running warehouses. It was so frustrating.

Biting her lip, Andrea wondered if it was true that her father was not going to force her. She doubted it. Her father was accustomed to getting his way.

~*~

When Miles Huntington’s firm knock sounded at the door, she jumped.

“One moment,” she called out. In truth, she only had to walk from the sofa to the door, but she did not want him to think she was eagerly waiting on him. She counted to sixty before opening the door.

“Good morning, Mr. Huntington,” she said shyly. “Thank you for walking me into breakfast.”

“I thought you had decided to call me by my given name.”

“I’m afraid the evening emboldened me.”

“We shared a kiss. You may call me Miles.”

As she finished locking her door, she looked over her shoulder at him. “You stole a kiss.”

He leaned closer and spoke into her ear. “You look so pretty this morning, I may have to steal another.”

Andrea turned, putting her back against the door. “It’s only stealing if it’s not freely given, Miles,” she said before darting down the corridor with Miles close on her heels.

She could not believe she had the nerve to be so daring. What was it about this man that made her say such things? Why would she play with fire so? Did she want to know where a man’s breaking point was? Did she want him to do despicable things to her?

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Andrea said when he caught up with her. “You must think I’m a hussy.”

“I think no such thing,” he assured her. “Shall I pretend I didn’t hear you?”

She gave him a sideways glance. “It’s too late for that, I suppose, but next time I say something so horrid, please do.”

“I can’t imagine anything horrid has ever come out of your mouth.”

A look of vexation crossed her face. “Lady Pike would disagree with you.”

“Lady Pike is an old windbag,” he said quietly into her ear.

As they entered the dining room, Andrea remembered Miles’s table sat eight people. “Would you like me to sit towards the other end of your table?”

“Do you want to hear me shouting across the room to talk to you?”

“But your invited guests are important to your business.”

A boyish grin crossed his face. “I didn’t think to invite anyone for breakfast, and even if I did, there is no one on this ship more important than you.”

Andrea wished she had brought a fan with her not only to cool her face when she blushed, but also to hide her embarrassment when he said such things. “Mr. Huntington! What foolishness,” she said, casting her eyes about to make sure no one had heard him. She lowered her voice. “My mother warned me about men and their flattery.”

Miles laughed. “It’s not mere flattery, if it’s true.”

The maître d’ showed them to their table which seemed a bit silly to Andrea since they would be eating at the same table the whole voyage. As she perused the menu, Miles asked her if she would like him to order for her again.

“No, thank you.”

“You didn’t like what I ordered for you last night?”

“All my life, my parents have made my decisions for me. Even at school, I had to eat what was placed before me. I’d like to make my own choices.”

A silent sigh deflated his shoulders as Miles regretted ordering for her the previous night. Here she was, trying to break free of her parents, and he was unintentionally stepping into the role. “I hope what I ordered for you last night….”

“It was delicious,” she cut in. “I might have ordered it myself. What are flapjacks?”

“They’re just pancakes. Our steward thought the menu would sound more international if we put less common names for some of the more common entrées on it.”

Andrea nodded her head and continued to look at her menu. She dismissed them as soon as she realized what they were. Her mother didn’t let her eat sweet things except for fruit. Lillian said they would make her fat and she would never marry into the aristocracy.

“I’ll just have some fruit and porridge.”

His face came up from the menu as a slight chuckle shook his body. “Well, I certainly would not have ordered
that
for you.”

“What would you have ordered?”

“An assortment of pastries for you to choose from.”

He watched as her eyes grew wide and a smile spread across her face. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. If I ate one, I would eat them all. I have a horrible affinity for sweets. My mother banned them from our house.”

“This isn’t your parents’ home. Besides, you are no longer a child, Jayne. I bet you can stop after one or two…or three…or four.”

Andrea’s eyes fell to the menu and stayed there as she spoke. Gone was the lightness in her words. “You should see how much bread pudding I ate at Christmas one year. I stole down the steps to the kitchen in the middle of the night and ate a second bowl. Unfortunately, the cook blamed the scullery maids for the theft, and I had to confess to keep the poor girls from being sacked.”

“How old were you?” Miles gently pried the menu from her hands in an attempt to get her to look up.

“Maybe nine or ten, I suppose.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“And what was your punishment?”

Andrea took a deep breath and looked unseeingly at her empty hands as if her mind was repeating the memory. “I had to apologize to all the servants. I didn’t know they were allowed to have the remainders from our table. Cook was quite nice about it and told me if I ever wanted more, just to ask her. It was only because she didn’t know where it had gone that she raised the alarm.”

Miles could sense that she still felt guilty over her supposed crime. “I stole whole apple pies off the window sill three different times and ate them all by myself.”

“You didn’t!”

Miles laughed at her shocked expression. “I did. The first time, my mother scolded me. The second time, my stepfather took me behind the woodshed, and the third time, I had to peel and core three bushels of apples for my mother when she canned her apple butter. Look,” he said, pointing at his hand. “I still have a scar from cutting myself.”

She held his hand towards the light. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

He pointed toward his palm near his index finger. “There.”

“Oh, I see it, barely.”

It was less than half an inch long, and with time, it had faded into near nothingness. As she eyed the small line, she became acutely aware of the warmth of his hand and realized, if society deemed they should wear gloved when they danced, she probably should not be touching his hand over the breakfast table. Reluctantly, she released his hand.

“If I had known it would get me out of peeling the rest of the apples, I would’ve done it on the first bushel, not the third.”

Andrea laughed until she caught him looking at her and dropped her gaze.

Phillip, the same waiter from the night before, arrived to take their order. He gave her a friendly smile that made Andrea think he looked to be very close to her age.

“Porridge with a small bowl of fresh fruit and a cup of tea,” Andrea said.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Miles’s shoulders drop a fraction when she ordered.

“Mutton chops, fried potatoes, flapjacks and coffee.”

When Phillip was gone, Miles cast a sorrowful look at her. She sensed his disappointment in her. “At school, some of the girls put sugar in their porridge. It was my intention to do so as well.”

“You mean some people eat it without sugar?”

At his plaintiff tone, a little giggle bubbled up from inside her. Andrea tried to suppress it, which made it come out as a little snort. Her hand flew to her mouth at the unladylike sound. Miles laughed, making her giggle-snort again, which made him laugh harder.

“Stop,” she cried between snorts.

She could feel the eyes of the other diners turning towards them and closed her eyes so she could not see him. She felt mortified that they were causing a scene. It took her a few more seconds to stop laughing and another five seconds after that to open her eyes.

Miles sensed the change in her immediately. She sat tall in her chair, her back and neck ramrod straight and not against the chair back.

“I’m sorry. That was very unseemly. I didn’t mean to disturb your other passengers.”

“No one was disturbed—or at least, not overly so.”

“But they were looking.”

Miles put his hand on hers. “They only wanted in on the joke.”

The carefree Andrea was gone, and the ice princess, as Rory called her, was back.

Miles tried to draw her out as they ate, but she could only manage short polite answers. He offered her the first bite of his flapjacks so she could see if she liked them, and was politely told, “No, thank you.” She did not even put sugar in her porridge, and he wondered if she was punishing herself for some supposed wrong.

He did not understand it. One moment they were laughing, the next they were polite strangers again. Was she embarrassed that she had drawn the attention of the other passengers? Was she not allowed to enjoy herself and laugh?

“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb your meal,” Phillips said as they were finishing. “Word has just come from the engine room. Mr. Ness believes they have found the problem with the engine.”

“Thank you, Phillip,” Miles said to the waiter. “Miss Andrews, will you think it rude of me…?”

“Your ship takes priority,” she said. “If you’ll escort me out of the dining room before you go, I would appreciate it.”

Phillip helped Andrea with her chair and Miles offered his arm. “Shall I come for you at 11:00 o’clock for our tour?” he asked.

Andrea’s nod was nearly imperceivable.

14

Andrea and Miles parted ways outside the dining room. She was afraid to take a direct path to her cabin for fear that Clyde Sully was waiting somewhere along the way and tried to find a route that would bring her to her stateroom from the opposite direction. Unfortunately, the passageway to her cabin only had one way in, so it was impossible to be completely unseen. As she entered the corridor, she realized she was being followed. Quickly, she slid the key into the lock and rushed in. Before she could slam it shut, a foot stopped the door’s progress. With all her might, she pushed against the door only to have it easily pushed open from the other side.

Clyde Sully squeezed in and shove the door shut behind him. He stood against the door, blocking her only avenue of escape. One side of his lips shot up in a lopsided sneer revealing a row of crooked grimy teeth.

“My, my, what luck to have you fall into my lap like this.”

She stared at him incredulously, slowly backing until she came to the wall on the other side of the cabin. “Does your pappy know you’re here? No?” he answered for her. “I can see it in your scared jackrabbit eyes.”

“Get out of my stateroom, Mr. Sully,” she said shakily. “If you don’t, I’ll scream and have the whole ship descend upon this cabin.”

His sneer faded. “You won’t if you don’t want me to tell Huntington who you are.” He carefully measured her reaction, and knew he was on the right track. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you with him. He actually didn’t recognize you. But I think he would be quite interested to know who is in the cabin next to his.”

“What do you want, Mr. Sully?”

He took a deliberate step towards her, his eyes gleaming lustily. With each step closer, she felt herself shrinking. Desperately, she looked for something she could use to defend herself.

“I seem to find myself in a bit of a dilemma,” he said with deliberate slowness. “As I recall, there is a rather tidy sum on your head. I don’t suppose you could equal that amount to ensure my silence.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head mutely.

“I thought not,” he murmured. His eyebrows deepened into a scowl. “Now where does that leave us? I could see that you get home safely. However, that would mean finding lodgings in New York until I could secure passage back to London for us and I would be forced to watch you until you are safe in your pappy’s arms. It sounds like a thankless job and one without reward if you should decide to escape me or jump ship. And should you return home damaged…I shudder to think what my reward would be,” he said mockingly. “Of course, I could walk next door—”

“No!” she cried quickly.

“A hundred pounds a day will buy my silence for the rest of the journey to New York.”

“A hundred? It might as well be a million, Mr. Sully,” she spat with disgust. “Even at ten pounds a day, I could only pay you for four days.”

His eyes narrowed as he considered this new information. “It’s not enough,” he announced. “But perhaps you can persuade me.” His lips parted and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“I-I don’t understand.”

He moved closer, laughing cruelly, again making her shrink back against the wall. “I only want a kiss to compensate me for my generous concession.”

“Indeed,” she said haughtily making him smile with genuine pleasure. “And what will you take from me when I have no more money?”

His smile widened and he rubbed his hands together. He was standing inches from her now. “I will
take
nothing. If you want my silence, you must willingly
give
me what I want—be it your money or your kisses. Put your arms around me.”

“I won’t!”

“You will,” he stated firmly. “And you will return my kisses also—that is if you don’t want me to seek out the owner of the ship. I am on his payroll, after all. He would expect me to inform him of your presence on board.”

Andrea’s breath was coming hard and fast. Her hands and knees trembled so fiercely, she could barely stand. The man was mere inches away from her. As he closed the gap with one small step, she sent her knee into his groin, doubling him over in pain. Andrea bolted for the door, but he managed to grab a handful of her skirt. Over the sound of his curses, she heard the fabric rend.

“Help!” she screamed, as her hand clutched the knob.  “Help me!” 

She had the door open less than a foot before he slammed it closed.  Sully grabbed her around the waist and threw her on the floor, her head hitting the wooden leg of the sofa.  Knowing rescue would have to come from outside the door, Andrea screamed, and cried out loudly until he clamped his hand over her mouth.  His body was stretched over hers, his foot firmly against the closed heavy door as he reached his free hand under her skirt.

“You bitch,” he said, low and menacingly. “Keep fighting. That’s the way I like it.” 

Andrea bit his hand so hard, she tasted his blood, and only let go when she realized the flesh between her teeth was the only thing keeping his hand in place. As soon as her mouth was free, she screamed again.

“Help!  God help me!”

As if in answer to her prayer, she felt Clyde Sully’s entire body jolt as someone tried to force the door open. It gave her renewed strength to know that someone was on the other side of the door trying to help her. Her hands struck out blindly at him striking him repeatedly. With a loud crack of splintering wood, the door burst open, hanging awkwardly on its lower hinge. Miles Huntington grabbed Clyde Sully by his clothing and hauled him off her. He twisted the sailor’s arm behind his back and shoved him into the corridor wall.

“Andrea, go into my cabin and lock the door,” he ordered. “Don’t open it for anyone but me.”