“I understand.” She tried to speak calmly but everything within her rose up in protest, making her want to scream at him not to leave. “Then I bid you farewell.”

She squeezed his hands and started to let go. But he didn’t release his grip. Instead, he clung to her as if he had no intention of releasing her. For just an instant, she pictured him sweeping her up in his arms, carrying her to the steamer, and sailing away with her.

As quickly as the image came, she forced it from her mind. She couldn’t go anywhere. Not with the possibility of Patience arriving on the next bride ship. Even if she’d been free to leave, she wouldn’t let him ruin his life and future. If the gentlemen at the dance had looked down upon her, how much more would his friends and family in England despise him because of her?

“Mercy, I—” he started, but then halted, closing his eyes and clamping his lips together. He held himself stiffly for a moment longer before pulling her closer.

She didn’t resist but fell against him eagerly. His arms slid around her at the same time that she wrapped him into an embrace.

With the solid length of his body against hers, she was intensely aware of his thick arms about her, his broad chest, and his heartbeat thudding in tempo with hers. When he leaned in and buried his nose into her hair, warmth spread low in her abdomen, the same pool of desire that had formed when she’d kissed him on the ship.

If she lifted her face and gave him access, she suspected he’d kiss her. For as strong as he was, as much as he lived with integrity, their attraction was living and breathing and wouldn’t easily be put to death, even as they went their separate ways. At least it wouldn’t easily be put to death for her.

Instead, she pressed further into his chest and breathed in his clean musky scent. His hands at her lower back spread, as though he needed to hold more of her and couldn’t quite get enough. He kissed the side of her head, his lips hard and possessive before he dropped his mouth to her ear, his breathing ragged and echoing into every limb of her body.

“Mercy,” he whispered, longing stretching his voice taut. Was he asking her for a kiss?

She fought against the powerful, almost overwhelming sense of being pulled forward into him. She’d come out here to say good-bye, not to complicate the matter with passion and kisses and affection. As drawn as they were to each other, indulging in a farewell kiss would only make their parting more difficult.

“Good-bye, Joseph,” she whispered, prying her arms away from him and taking a step back.