Besides, she’d made her decision long ago not to get involved with any man. There had been plenty who’d made offers. Plenty who’d wanted her. But she’d never paid them any heed. And she couldn’t start now.

Against her will, her attention drifted to Joseph’s mouth. And her thoughts shifted to the taste of his lips upon hers, the dizzying sensation of the connection. An exhilaration and a passion she never knew existed, one she craved again. With him. Only him.

Mercy wrestled to free herself from the pull of desire, dragging her sights up to his eyes only to find herself drowning in them, drowning in whatever this was between them.

She released her hold on the bunk. “I’m a-going back to my cabin now.” She took several unsteady steps in the direction of the door.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop her.

The lurching of the ship propelled her in long stilted steps, giving her no choice but to grab on to the door handle. She knew she should be grateful the ship had pushed her away from Joseph instead of directly into his arms. She sensed he was as weak in this moment as she was, that he would have swept her close again, and he’d be as powerless to let go of her as she would him.

Her fingers tightened around the handle. She took a deep breath and forced the door open.

A cold sea wind threatened to shove her back inside the room. She fought against it, stepped onto the deck, and wrestled the door closed behind her.

The rushing of the ship as it cut through the sea, the spraying of the waves, and the splattering of rain pushed her against the outer wall of Joseph’s cabin. She clutched the paneling as though she could somehow hang on to him.

Then the ship tilted and urged her away, and she let the motion carry her stumbling down the deck. Her ship and journey were different from Twiggy’s. She was different. She had to be.

No matter how difficult it might be, she would prove to herself that she could chart a new way forward. That was all she’d ever wanted. And now that she was so close, she wouldn’t let herself be thrown off course because of one stolen moment of pleasure.

She’d forget it ever happened. She’d forget about Joseph. And she’d forge ahead.

twenty-two

Joseph stared out into the thick fog and tried to focus on Captain Hellyer’s prayers.

“‘Man, that is born of a woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.’” The captain’s voice rang out over the assembly.